Nandita To Nandini
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Half And Half Part 2 free porn video
Half and Half
by T.R. Sias
Part 2
Roger Harmon sat in his car cursing the trick that had been
played on him at the beach House. The lower half of his
body had become female, and his host had given him two
choices: remain half female for the rest of his life, or
put on the bathing suit top, go back into the ocean, and
become a complete woman. There was no other alternative.
What's more, if he managed to get himself pregnant in his
present form, the spell would be broken and the second
choice would no longer be an option.
"Damn that Gypsy and his sister!" Roger swore, convinced
one of the guys at the office had found out about his
secret habit of cross dressing, and had set the whole thing
up with the Roma. Roger was pretty sure who it may have
been: one of the other stockbrokers named Nick Ainsley, who
didn't particularly like Roger and who was his biggest
rival each month for the honor of top producer. If when he
got back to the office Ainsley was all over him about the
beach house with a sinister expression on his face, Roger
would know for certain.
At he same time, Roger had to admit to himself he got a
strange pleasure out of being a woman, at least below the
belt -- it would make cross dressing a hell of a kick when
he put on women's clothing again -- in fact he couldn't
wait to see himself in pantyhose, high heels and a skirt
when he got back to his condominium in Boston.
The hard part was going to be what to do the 99 per cent of
the time he had to function as a man. Would it be apparent
to everyone that he was not completely male? Would his
parents notice right away? And what of his girl friend,
Terry, with whom it would be impossible now to have normal
intercourse. Perhaps he could feign an injury to his penis
and try to satisfy her orally. But how long could he go on
with that deception, knowing how much Terry enjoyed
penetration? And what if he came clean and told her
everything, would he lose her forever? Roger assured
himself he would deal with his predicament one problem at a
time, and turned on the radio in the car as he sped along
the highway.
Getting dressed in a hurry to leave the beach house,
Roger's shoes had not fit him and he had to get into his
car and contemplate driving barefooted. The old man had
annoyed him no end in observing his departure with
amusement. "Good luck? I hope to see you back here. It will
be much better, you'll see," the Gypsy had taunted him.
Roger's trousers had been stretched very tightly in the
seat and around his hips, and were also very difficult to
zip up. His belt was useless -- there were not enough holes
to tighten it --but rolling up the pant legs of the
trousers, he regarded himself as appearing masculine enough
so as to not arouse suspicion (or so he thought). "You
might as well throw that bathing suit away," he shot back
at the old man, as he got into his car and drove away.
The first thing Roger noticed in the car was how much
higher he sat in the front seat. His ass, he thought, had
really gotten an extra layer or two of fat beneath it. His
legs had not quite the length they had before, and he had
to move the seat forward to reach the pedals comfortably.
Adjusting the rear view mirror, Roger headed for the Mid-
Cape Highway and home, wondering if what had happened to
him might not be undone by a change of scenery and a good
night's sleep.
After about a half hour Roger began to feel uncomfortable
driving barefooted. For one thing his right foot kept
slipping off the brake pedal and hitting the accelerator.
Remembering hearing there was a mall near the Mid-Cape, he
exited the highway and headed in the mall's direction. Told
he could not enter the mall in his bare feet, he noticed an
outdoor stand selling flip-flops, and quickly found a pair
that fit him.
"Now what size shoe do you normally wear? " The clerk in
the shoe store had startled him. About to respond with
"twelve," Roger caught himself in time and told the clerk
he wasn't sure. A short, bald-headed man with a thin
mustache, the clerk brought out a device to measure his
feet, and Roger sat down.
Maybe it was his imagination, but while his foot was being
measured Roger thought the clerk was stealing a few too
many furtive glances in the direction of his crotch. "You
take a size six," the clerk said, a trifle confused.
"That's awful small. I don't think we have a six in the
store." He eyed Roger curiously, staring at his chest with
a quizzical expression.
Irritated at the man's preoccupation with his body, Roger
stood up abruptly. "Well, I've got to get some shoes." He
walked over to the women's section and picked out a sneaker
on a rack. "I'll take these in a six. I think you must have
them," he said, but then remembering when buying women's
clothing that shoe sizes do not always correspond. "Maybe a
seven," he added.
It turned out a size seven fit him fairly well, and Roger
walked out of the store, leaving a completely perplexed
clerk scratching his head behind him . Heading in the
direction of the rest rooms, Roger was surprised he had the
feeling he had to pee again so soon after leaving the beach
house.
Inside the men's room, he found a stall open and went
inside. The latch on the door was broken, but the door
managed to remain closed, though just barely when Roger
pushed it. Tugging on the zipper to his pants, Roger
finally got the stubborn tab down and lowered his trousers
and shorts. Relieved that he didn't pee in his pants
while struggling with the zipper, Roger spread his legs
apart and relaxed, allowing the warm pee to gush downward
and out of him.
Just then someone opened the door to his stall and came
forward, unaware Roger was inside. The intruder, a black
man, had his penis out and was preparing to urinate when he
noticed with astonishment the occupant on the toilet.
"Hey!" the man bellowed. "Whaz up?" Looking down he viewed
what was surely the wide open hairy cunt of a young woman,
only it was attached to what appeared above to be the body
of a man.
"Get the fuck out of here," Roger yelled in his deepest
voice, reaching for the toilet paper to finish what he was
doing.
"Sorry, Man" the intruder mumbled, and stepped back out of
the stall, but not before his penis had bobbed up, aroused
by what he had witnessed.
"Man, that is one bad dude in there," Roger heard the black
man say to someone outside the stall. "I don't know if he
be a man or a woman, but he got a mean pussy."
"You should've got it on when you had it," the other man
said, both of them laughing loudly at the idea.
Roger hurriedly pulled up his trousers but the zipper stuck
again, causing him to put undue stress on the tab. Suddenly
the tab broke free, making it impossible to slide the
zipper either up or down. "Damn," he muttered, clutching
his trousers and holding them up with one hand while trying
to make a quick exit from the rest room and past the two
men, who watched him in silent wonder.
Roger concluded he would have to replace the trousers, and
walked immediately to a department store at one end of the
mall. Now he was in more familiar territory, he thought,
having purchased women's slacks a number of times in the
past to enable his cross dressing. The only problem was he
had always purchased a misses size 18, which he doubted
would go over his hips and ass in their present condition.
Not wanting to bother any of the sales personnel, he took a
couple of slacks from the racks marked "women's" and
carried them with him into one of the dressing rooms.
Removing his damaged trousers, he tried on one of the
slacks marked size 22. It fit him perfectly. Looking at his
reflection in the mirror, Roger noticed the slacks were a
tad short in length but otherwise appeared not to be too
tight around his hips and butt. However, his jockey
underwear bunched up in his groin area, preventing it from
having an entirely smooth appearance. "This will be all to
the good," he thought, since he had to go pay for a pair of
women's slacks while he was actually wearing them. Not
ever having gone out in public cross-dressed, he was a bit
apprehensive
The apprehension was magnified when as he walked with
swaying hips up to the counter, several people stopped to
stare at him and at the lower half of his body. It dawned
on Roger the slacks only emphasized his lower body
proportions despite the jockey shorts between them. He
noticed also that the two black men from the rest room had
followed him into the department store and remained
standing a slight distance away. One of the men smiled at
him and held up a forefinger, sticking it in and out of a
hole formed by the closed fingers and thumb of his other
hand. Remembering the long silky penis on the one man and
how it began to rise and fatten in front of him, Roger felt
a hot flash come over his vulva. Aroused by the thought of
the man's penis entering his body, and by the dampness he
suddenly felt in his crotch, Roger was also mindful that
unless he began to think seriously about some form of birth
control he might end up permanently trapped in his present
freakish condition. Not that he desired to become a woman
in all respects. It was just that the thought occurred to
him it might be sensible in the final analysis to at least
have a normal body, top and bottom, if that's what it took.
Suffering the stares and barely concealed laughter around
him as he paid for the slacks -- he had to raise both arms
while the clerk removed a tag from his waist -- Roger
hurried out of the mall to his car and continued on his
journey. As he drove along the highway, the excitement
caused by the black man's actions continued to dampen his
vulva, and for a few moments he was almost overwhelmed by
an intense desire to finger himself. Looking down between
his legs Roger was mesmerized by the shape of his crotch
and the tilt forward it seemed to have in relation to his
heavier thighs and wider hips. Ordinarily such a sight
would have produced a raging erection instead of a
pleasurable sinking feeling in his gut and a desire to
stuff himself silly with his fingers. Concentrating on his
driving, Roger tried to put such thoughts out of his mind
until he got home.
However, about an hour outside Boston, the dampness in his
crotch began to feel uncomfortable. Was it his imagination
or was the dampness increasing? It certainly was feeling
warmer, and even a little bit swishy. Glancing down quickly
between his legs Roger noticed a stain on his new slacks.
It appeared to be a brown stain, but he couldn't be
certain. Leaving the highway at the next exit, Roger pulled
off the road and stopped the car. Getting a good look at
his crotch, he saw the stain was clearly red and not brown,
"Oh my God," he thought. "It can't be, not so soon."
Luckily he still had his cargo shorts in his overnight bag,
but what to do about cleaning up and stopping the bleeding.
"My first period," he said to himself and almost snickered.
"The downside of being a woman."
Roger had no idea what town he was in as he drove from
street to street in search of a drug store. He knew he had
to get a tampon or a sanitary napkin of some kind and that
drug stores carried that stuff. He had often passed the
shelves containing such items when he visited the local CVS
in Boston. Finding the main part of the town, he spotted a
small pharmacy and parked the car. Reaching into his
overnight bag, he removed a sweat shirt and tied the
sleeves around his waist to make an apron and hide the
stain.
Inside the store Roger found what he was looking for. Not
knowing which was the best product to buy, he picked up
several and brought them to the pharmacist, who was busy in
the back filling prescriptions "Do you have someplace where
a person can use these," he asked. "It's an emergency."
"Sorry, that's her problem," the pharmacist said dryly. "We
just sell them. We don't help them put them on." At which a
young man behind the counter, undoubtedly a delivery boy,
cracked up with laughter.
"Go find a gas station, they got rest rooms." the young man
said.
"There's a McDonalds about five miles up the road. Take her
there," the pharmacist added. "And for heaven's sake tell
her to keep some in her purse."
Roger thought he was getting an education the hard way.
Maybe he should go to a motel and get properly cleaned up
with a shower. He wished that Terry was with him. Terry
would not only know what to do but might be sympathetic
with his plight. For the first time in his life Roger had a
clue why girls sometimes seemed to like the close company
of other girls. And for the first time, he realized that
being a girl, if even half a girl, was going to involve a
lot more than just putting on a girl's clothing.
End of Part 2
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