Woulda Shoulda Coulda
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I Would If I Could free porn video
I Would If I Could
By Deane Christopher [email protected]
Copyright 2000
It was five of two when Greg woke up and blearily glanced
over at the clock.
'Should I wake her? Or, should I wait?' he asked of
himself.
A minute later, hearing the gurgling cries of their newborn
beginning to issue out of the baby monitor that sat alongside of
the digital alarm clock, Greg realized that the decision was
taken completely out of his hands.
"Grace!" he softly intoned as he reached over and gentle
nudged his wife's arm. "I'm sorry to have to be the one to have
to tell you this, honey, but by the sound of it, our baby wants
to be fed. And, I believe she wants to be fee now."
"Alright!" an annoyed Grace Miller petulantly complained as
she began to get out of bed and wearily struggle into her
bathrobe. "I'll attend to her!"
"Maybe you ought to reconsider." Greg suggested.
Grumpily, Grace grumbled. "Reconsider what?"
"The breast feeding business!"
"And, why - May I ask! - would I want to do that?"
"Well..." Greg returned with a yawn, "If you went with
bottles, I could pitch in and lend a hand. You know, as in I
could alleviate you of having to attend to some or, perhaps all
of these two o'clock feedings for you. You know, so you could get
a good night's sleep. You know, like every once in awhile."
"I mean, as it is now - You know, with you breast feeding
like you are! - it's pretty much an 'I would if I could but I
can't' kind of situation! You know, because while I might have
tits, they don't quite work the way that yours do!"
"I know, dear! You don't have to rub it in! I am well aware
of that fact already!" Grace, who was still a whole lot more
asleep than she was awake, laconically muttered as she passed out
of their bedroom and began to gingerly feel her way along the
upper hallway.
***
Unbeknownst to either Grace or her husband Greg, there had
been an interloper who had been clandestinely eavesdropping on
their brief exchange.
"So," Grace's mother said smugly, as she continued to gaze
deep into her trusty crystal ball, "you would if you could, but
you can't!"
"Well, oh son-in-law of mine, how about we just see if you
are a man of your word or not..."
***
The following night, Greg once again woke from a sound
sleep just a little before two. Sure enough, a few minutes after
he did so, he heard a gurgle, followed by a coo, which was in
turn followed up with an escalating series of whimpers. Knowing
that little Allison's whimpers would soon become the desperate
wail of a newborn in need of nourishment, Greg felt strangely
compelled to get up.
Taking get pains not to wake his wife as he did so, Greg
slid out from under the covers and gingerly got out of bed.
Picking up his bathrobe en route, Greg began to draw it on as he
made for little Allison's bedroom.
Ten minutes later, Grace stirred in her sleep. As she did
so, she reflexively endeavored to reposition herself so as to
snuggle up against that husband of hers. Then, when her repeated
efforts to locate Greg proved futile, a fear born premonition
began to solidify in the darker recesses of the middle-mind of
her id.
Rousted from sleep by an intuitive feeling that something
was wrong, Grace, on the verge of frantically calling out for her
husband, heard what she took to be the sound of an oddly
familiar, though eerily elusive, voice softly emanating out of
the baby monitor.
"Hush, little baby. Don't you cry. You'll be an angel by
and by..."
Grace knew the song. Every now and again she had heard Greg
sing a line or two of it while attending to little Allison.
However, even though the voice that was doing the singing
bore an uncanny similarity to her husband's, Grace wasn't
convinced that it was Greg who was doing the singing. The voice,
she thought, didn't sound like a man's voice. Rather, its' timbre
was more in tune with the melodic contralto voice of a woman's.
Grabbing up her bathrobe as she went, a fearful Grace
dashing out of the room, down the hallway, and into the nursery.
'Oh, my God!' Grace thought as she beheld the figure who
was seated in the rocking chair and cuddling that precious bundle
of joy she had given birth to a couple of weeks before.
Though the room was dimly lit, illuminated as was by a
couple of strategically placed nightlights, Grace could clearly
make out the fact that the figure holding her child bore an
uncanny resemblance to her husband, in that the figure could
clearly pass for Greg's twin sister.
Trouble was: Greg had neither a twin nor a sister. He had
two brothers. One older. The other, younger. But, no sisters.
Then, as an alarmed Grace endeavored to fathom what was
going on, she came to the stark realization that the woman seated
in the rocker wasn't merely holding her baby, but that her little
Alison was suckling away on the woman's rather ample and nicely
conical right breast.
"Greg?" Grace intoned uneasily.
In response, the young woman who was nursing Grace's
newborn looked up and, with a beatific smile blossoming on her
face, tenderly replied, "Isn't she wonderful, honey? I mean, our
little Alison has to be the most beautiful baby in the whole wide
world!"
"Yes..." a clearly confused and thoroughly disturbed Grace
stammered. "Yes, she is!
"Are you alright?"
"Yes..." there was a sense of unfettered joy clearly
conveyed in the female Greg's response. "Alison and I are getting
along just fine."
"So, tell you what, honey. Since I can handle things in
here, why don't you go back to bed and get yourself some sleep.
Believe me! Not only have you earned it, but, given how
bedraggled you've been looking here lately, you need to get as
much rest as you can get!"
"So, don't worry! As soon as our little Alison gets her
fill, I'll be joining you..."
Shaking her head in abject disbelief as she did so, Grace,
knowing that she was leaving Alison in the good hands of her
fetchingly feminized husband, turned about and with a 'goodnight'
and 'you know where to find me if you need me' exited the
nursery.
***
In a voice that was reminiscent of the Samantha Stevens
character in the sitcom Bewitched, Grace, upon reentering the
master bedroom, harshly exclaimed, "Mother!"
To wit, a disembodied voice sagely replied, "Yes, dear."
"Why, mother? Why in the world did you turn Greg into a
woman?"
"To help you, dear. I turned that husband of yours into a
woman so that you could get a good night's sleep."
"You see, Grace, last night Greg said something or other
about how he would be more than happy to pitch in and help you
attend to breast feeding my grandchild. You know, if, that is: he
was anatomically capable of doing so."
"So, I just arrange things in such a way so that he was
capable of doing just that."
"But, mother!" Grace complained.
"Don't you 'but mother' me, child!" the disembodied voice
of Grace's mother returned sternly.
"As much as I hate to admit this: your husband's right!
You're not getting enough rest! You're starting to look far too
haggard to suit me!"
"Besides, Greg offered to help! All I did was to arrange
things so he could!"
"Alright, mom! I appreciate what you're trying to do! You
know, because I really do need to get some rest! But, a woman,
mom! You had to go so far as to actually turn my husband into a
woman?"
"Yes, dear. I'm sorry to say that I did."
"At first, I was only going to fit him out with a female
breast. But, my research showed me that while I could do that,
the breast I bestowed upon him would only be a cosmetic change.
You know, as in the breast I fitted out with wouldn't go so far
as to actually produce milk!"
"So, in order to make a long story short, given all the
hormonal crap involved in the production of breast milk, I found
that I had to go whole hog and turn that husband of yours into a
fully functioning woman."
"But, not to worry, dear! The change isn't in any way,
shape or form permanent!"
"It isn't?"
"No, dear! It most certainly isn't!"
"Once that adorable grandchild of mine has drank her fill,
that Greg of yours will - within the next half an hour or
thereabouts - revert to being a man again."
"That's to say that I've arranged things so that your
husband will only be a woman on a temporary basis."
"Also, I should tell you that he will only be changing into
a woman at night. You know, as in I wove the dusk till dawn
qualifier into the spell I used. However, I should warn you that
I had to set the maternal instinct I saddled that husband of
yours with on the highest level."
"In other words, dear, whenever Greg is a woman, I strongly
suggest that you leave little Allison's care to him. You know, as
in you need to butt out and let him take care of whatever it is
that needs to be taken care of! Otherwise, the two you could end
up butting heads. And, should that happen, you could be letting
yourself in for some real marital trouble!"
"But!" Grace managed to get in an objection. "Isn't he
going to remember his being a woman?"
"No, dear! Not if everything works the way it's supposed
to..."
"And, if he does remember anything, the way I've got things
rigged, it'll seem to him more like a dream than anything
else..."
***
Two weeks later, while the two of them were having dinner,
Greg broached a subject on a matter that had been bothering him.
"Grace. I think you ought to know that I've toying around
with the idea of going to see someone. You know, to get some
counseling."
"Whatever for?"
"Well... to be honest with you, I'm starting to think that
this baby business is doing a real number on my head!"
"Now don't get me wrong! You know, because I absolutely
love being a father and I think I've been a pretty good one so
far! It's just..."
"It's just what, honey?" Grace felt the need to nudge her
husband in order to get him to finish his statement.
"It's just that I find that I'm becoming increasingly
envious of you!"
"You see, dear... as much as I hate to admit this..." Greg
was having a hell of a hard time making his admission. "...I've
been having this - I guess what you might call! - really strange
reoccurring dream in which I'm the one who is breast-feeding
Allison!"
"You know, as in I'm woman in this dream and I'm actually
breast feeding our baby!"
"And, what's really disturbing is: I find that I'm starting
to really like it! You know, to the point where I find myself
sometimes actually wishing that I was a woman! You know, and a
mother as well!"
"Tell you what, Greg!" Grace's mother disembodied voice
chimed in with a self-satisfied smirk. "You continue to be a good
husband to my daughter and a good father to my grandchild and
maybe one of these days, I'll see what I can do to make that wish
of yours will come true!"
Incredulously, Grace fumed, "Mother!"
The End
Jayla
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