We Three free porn video

We Three By [email protected] She'd cheated on him once. But that was all it took. There was a lot to work through and she thought they had managed it, but now she wasn't so sure. What she was sure of was that he was spying on her. Well, her guts were sure of it, even if the rest of her wasn't. She had a suspicion, an intuitive certainty, but she couldn't prove it. She felt his eyes on her sometimes, yet he was nowhere to be seen. When she went out with her girlfriends, she could feel his eyes upon her. She asked her friends to keep an eye open for him, but no one could spot him. If she went shopping alone, she'd feel him watching. She'd try and trip him up, dart around a corner, hide behind a rack of clothes, but he was nowhere to be found. Was she going crazy? The truth was more remarkable than she could ever have imagined. Finally, she brought up the subject of Angela's party. He didn't want to go. He was busy. Would he mind if she went alone? She could tell he didn't liked the idea, but he dismissed it with a shrug. It was a nice party. She was cautious. There were a few good looking guys, one in particular that had been eyeing her all evening. She knew better. Even dolled up, she knew better than to start something she couldn't finish. Still, he was attractive, but she was not about to risk things with Kevin. (And even now she swore she could feel his stare.) "Robin?" Angela called. She turned and smiled. "I might get going." "Oh no. Not so soon." She shrugged. "Come on, someone's been asking about you all night. He wants me to introduce him." "No, I can't. Kevin. You know." Angela smiled her sweet, dimpled, you-know-you-want-to smile and dragged her towards the fellow in question, which happened to be him, the guy that had been eyeing her all night. "Caleb? Robin. Robin? Caleb." They greeted each other, shook hands, talked for awhile, and almost at once there was a wonderful familiarity about it all. It was as if they'd known each other their entire lives. He was charming and warm and he smelled good and he looked good and was sweet and God oh God oh God! She tried to get away, but he followed her to her car. "I'm very much involved," she told him. She could feel Kevin nearby, judging. "So am I," he admitted. "Then that's it then." He reached out and tucked a lock of her lush black hair behind her ear. Her earring jangled like a tiny bell in her exposed ear. "It doesn't have to be." She blushed from head to toe, felt sick, felt horny, and withdrew. "I can't." "He doesn't have to know." "I--it's--look... I cheated on him once and it just almost killed us." The guilt was in her eyes, along with remorse. "I can't do that to him again. To us." He nodded. "Okay. I understand." She turned to get in her car and used the window's reflection for one last glimpse. He did a funny little step. A quick bounce like he was getting a good start on the walk back. The thing was... it was *exactly* like the funny little step Kevin always did. She turned and looked at him and realized he was moving just like Kevin. A lot of his behavior was just like Kevin's. But Kevin had no brothers that she was aware of. "How--" she started to say, and it spilled out of her. "Kevin." He stopped and looked at her. "What?" "You. You're Kevin." She wasn't making sense. She was just blurting it out in hopes that the puzzle would somehow piece itself together. "You're Kevin. I don't understand it, but you are." He said, "What are you talking about?" but his voice was thick and uneven and his face was pasted with guilt. Slowly, she repeated it though it still made no sense. "You're... Kevin. I don't know how, but you are." He took a deep breath, glanced around and when it was clear no one had heard, hurried over to her. "Get in the car." "How--you--I don't--" "Just get in the car." She poked her face into his and examined every detail, every line, every wrinkle. It didn't look anything like him. There was no makeup, no mask, nothing but flesh. She started to touch his cheek, but he caught her hand. "Yes," he whispered, "it's me. Just get in the car and I'll explain." She stood and shook her head in disbelief. 1 He could change himself. His face, his body. She didn't believe it of course; she kept thinking it was some sort of Hollywood magic. He showed her, laying on the bed, relaxing, skin turning pale and waxy, body turning to ice, and slowly, so slowly she almost couldn't believe she was seeing it, he altered his face. Not just the flesh, but the bone, the skull, the entire facial structure. "That's amazing!" she told him in a hush. It took him the better part of thirty minutes, but his face was again the face of the man she loved. His body, however, was still foreign. When he came out of it, she grilled him like a steak. "How do you do it?" He shrugged. "I've always been able to do it. As far back as I can remember. I used to go into a store with my mom and change my face so she couldn't see me. I could walk right past her and she would say, 'Oh look, that little boy is wearing the exact same outfit as Kevin!' but she wouldn't recognize me. For a long time, I thought she was just having fun with me, but then one day it dawned on me that she really didn't know who I was." "But how?" That required some thought. "I'm... not sure. I just go into a kind of trance and I start moving things around. At first I could only change my face, but after some practice I started getting where I could change my whole body." She shook her head. "C'mon," he laughed. "I'm starving!" Apparently, it took a lot of energy as well. He went through two grill cheese sandwiches and was frying a third before she thought of her next question. "Have you ever become a girl?" 2 She hounded him for days. He tried his usual tactics of avoidance, and when those failed, he invented a few more, but she was relentless. Finally, she called out the big guns: she got him into bed. When he was softened up, she tried again. "Okay, no," he answered. "I've never even tried." "Have you ever thought about it?" she pressed. He shrugged. "I don't know." "Come on. We all wonder what it would be like, what it feels like. Don't tell me you've never even considered it." "It's not like that." "So, what is it like?" "Those kind of changes are way beyond me. You might as well ask me to change myself into an elephant." Robin laughed. "Oh, pish-posh. Men and women are almost identical to one another." "Changing my face or my height is one thing, something like this is way out of my league." "But there was a time when you could only change your face, then you learned you could do more." He said, "Yeah," like he was considering it. But if she thought she had him on the ropes, she was wrong. He rebounded. "But see, you don't get it. Stretching my bones is like... well like when you stretch your legs, only I can sort of make them lock in place. But you're talking about hormonal things, brain things, and... uh, internal things." "But," Robin hummed sweetly in his ear, "that should be even easier. Those are all *soft* tissues." She placed the word *soft* deep in his ear and sealed it in with a kiss and a breath. He shivered, sighed. "I don't know." "Besides," she whispered, "you're missing a whole angle to this thing." "What's that?" "Kevin--" She wrapped her small hand around that delightful lump in his lap and gave it an encouraging squeeze. "--have you forgotten?" "What?" "Before I met you... I was bi." His brain played a wonderful picture show before sending the signal to his mouth to say, "Jesus!" 3 They did a little research. She coached him where she could. An extra layer of fat beneath the epidermis to increase the softness of his skin. He would have to grow more nerves. Could he do such a thing? He didn't know, but he'd give it a try. Shrinking himself was easy. He'd tried being shorter before. Being smaller-boned was a mere hour long adjustment. He had some limited experience with changing his hair color and texture, from straight to curly and back again. Even the pigment of his skin and eyes had always been surprisingly easy. It was the rest of it that was difficult. He grew as pale as the sheets that covered him. His breath and heart rate slowed; his skin became ice cold. His breasts did not so much plump and swell as they folded over themselves and drooped. His face did not become feminine, but leonine. And while his pelvis did broaden, they did not match his narrow shoulders. When the blood finally warmed his cheeks again, when his eyes finally came to life again, he smiled brightly and asked, "How does it look?" in his familiar and out-of-place male voice. She winced. "We'll have to do better." "What do you mean?" "I mean you look like all jumbled up." One look in the mirror was all it took to convince him. He sighed heavily. She placed a reassuring arm around his shoulders, surprised by their even heights. "See?" He shook his head. "It's a lot harder than I figured. And I didn't even try the hard stuff." "What do you mean?" He grabbed his crotch, demonstrating that there was still definitely something there to grab. "Well," she shrugged, "maybe we're trying too much at once." He shook his head. "It's not that." "Then what?" "Well," he thought aloud, "before I always had a clear idea of how to move my face. It was easy to build or shrink muscle and bone because I knew what I was shooting for." Her eyes fell as the thought found her. "You need a woman's touch." He frowned. "Isn't it the other way around?" "How do you do it exactly?" she asked. "What? Change myself?" She nodded. "I just do. I talk myself down and then change things." "Okay," she touched her lips, "once you have yourself down, can you hear me?" He thought about it. "No, the whole world sort of fades away. I don't even know you're there." "But could you? Once you had yourself in the trance, could you tell yourself to listen to me, let me help with the changes?" His eyes drifted. "Maybe...." 4 He was unconscious for a long time before making contact. They'd discussed having him return to his old body and start from the beginning, but she'd convinced him they'd have better luck continuing where he'd left off. With a long exhale, he said, "Oooookaaaaayyy." She used the time to consider what kind of woman she should make of him. Creating beauty was easy. She didn't have to be a bisexual to know who and what was beautiful. Being female was all the advantage she needed. She was painfully familiar with her own facial features, what she liked, what she didn't, what she wished she had, and what she'd always wanted to change. Years of makeup had given her an expertise for accentuating and concealing. She'd started out trying to think of a beautiful female face she could emulate, but could only come up with friends and celebrities. Then she realized that there was a much easier way. She could just soften his face, make his existing face more feminine and make little adjustments from there. She talked to him. His responses where thick and slow. With his cooperation she rounded the shape of his face, narrowed his nose, raised his cheek bones, thickened and shaped his lips, tinkered with his eyes and eyebrows, and whitened his complexion till it was a rosy pink. When she was done, she stepped back, took a breath, and told him to come out of it. It took nearly ten minutes for the life to flow back into his eyes. "How did we do?" he croaked. "You tell me." At the mirror, his mouth dropped. The deep baritone leaving the pretty lips of the girl was a peculiar sight. "Oh my God!" "You like?" Robin smiled with pride. "It's... incredible!" Robin swept up his coarse male hair and gazed over his shoulder at their reflection. "I was thinking auburn hair. We could keep the brown eyes, but green would be spectacular." He nodded, speechless. "But then, there's always blonde. Anyway, let's work on the rest of you," she suggested. He continued to nod. "I think I can make it easier for you this time." "Oh?" "Yes. When I was under, it was everything I could do to listen to you and then make the changes. Toward the end I wasn't really making them anymore. You were. My body was listening to you. I just sort of drifted away and let you do your thing. I'll really let go this time, let you have your way." Robin rubbed her cheek against Kevin's neck. "I can't wait to have my way with you." 5 She made a few mistakes along the way, but they were easily corrected. When he was dead to the world, his body soft and malleable, she narrowed his shoulders, broadened his hips, and began the long process of adding an extra layer of fat beneath his skin. A few million extra nerves grown in the right area would give him just the right response. She enjoyed plumping his breasts to perfection, widening his ass till it dimpled, and displacing everything that was male about him. The body was the easy part. What she did to his mind was insidious. Since he'd surrendered his very identity to her, she decided to test his limits, and was surprised by the results. By the time his eyes flooded with life again, there was little resemblance to the man he'd once been. The girl who awoke on the bed stretched like a man, but did not sound like one. "So... how did we do." She got the cutest little expression then, a quirky, befuddled look. "Why do I sound like a chipmunk?" Robin grinned ear to ear, eyes glittering, cheeks warm. Kevin felt the oddest pair of twinges on his chest. His hands fell instinctively and discovered two spongy mounds. His fingers fiddled with the hard rubbery nubs that popped up with a mind of their own. His nipples were cold, but warming. "Wow. This is different." She eyed him quizzically. "Is it?" "Yes. They're so... right there!" It was Kevin's laugh, but changed, thinner, higher, softer, not quite a girlish giggle, but damn close. With a hand, Robin caressed Kevin's new flat tummy, slid it down to the dark, coarse tangle of pubic hair and pressed lightly on the tender mound. Sounding entranced, Robin replied, "They're perfect." Kevin looked down at himself, peering over the rise of his breasts, over the concave oasis of his belly, over his girlfriend's petting hand, mesmerized by the shimmer of light traveling down his long slick legs. "My God!" Robin slid a finger so lightly between his thighs it nearly tickled. Kevin's breath caught in his throat. Robin giggled and grinned. She let her finger take a quick dip. Kevin's now vivid green eyes shone with surprise. He closed them and shivered. "That feels incredible! And weird." "Of course," Robin said, then swatted the extra padding enveloping his hips. "Now, let's get you dressed and really show you what being a woman is about!" Just the slip from bed was different. Sitting up, swinging his legs off the edge--he couldn't help rubbing them together, they were so smooth--he leaned forward to get up and his breasts knocked sharply together. 6 He stood before the mirror and stared. He stared hard. He couldn't find himself anywhere. There was only *her*, a frowning delicate face, cheeks smudged with roses, big startlingly green eyes. He blinked and watched her dark lush lashes flutter. His eyes dropped to her breasts. *They look like torpedoes!* He laughed at the thought, but it was true. Two fat torpedoes, jutting out from his sternum, lurching out and away, making a break for his armpits. They would always be a step ahead, always be right out in front, impossible to hide. And they jiggled. Dear God, how they jiggled. They rose and fell with each breath, swayed with each movement, and trembled with each step. And the jiggle itself was mesmerizing. He stood on his tiptoes-- finding it surprisingly easy (he'd have to remember to take a good close look at his feet next)--and dropped to his heels. His breasts bounced once and jiggled to a rest. He did it again, and again, enjoying the effect. Then he noticed something. 'The right one's lower than the left.' He cupped his right breast with his right hand and was surprised by its coolness. The nipple was hard and warm, and the slightest touch, the slightest breeze or breath (he could imagine it already) only stiffened it further. The breast itself felt like nothing more than a mound of Jell-O. He raised it so it was level with the other one, raised it higher to inspect it, then dropped it, watching it bounce and jiggle back into position. 'Is it my imagination or did she make them bigger than hers?' He would have to ask her about that, ask and compare. He touched the dark brown areola with his fingertip. It was so much softer, so much smoother, like dipping his finger into a saucer of butter. The rest of his flesh was rugged in comparison. His finger nudged a nipple accidentally and the effect was dramatic. He heard a light "Ohhh" of pleasure in a little girl's moan and couldn't get over how foreign own his voice was to him. He stood there, in the mirror, in all his female splendor with *both* hands massaging his breasts now, head tilted back, back arched, eyes closed, breath erratic and shallow, then realized he was on his tiptoes again. He took a deep breath, stared into *her* eyes, now dreamy and half-closed with arousal, and forced his hands away. Shaking his head, he whispered to her reflection. "... wow." And that was just his breasts. He hadn't even gotten to the good part yet, though he was clearly aware of *it*. Already, something was missing. Usually, when he got aroused, it was obvious. Blatantly obvious. There was a tight, sometimes painful, lump in his shorts. He could just reach down and grab it and stretch it and he was ready to fuck anything in sight, but this was different. This felt gushy, leaky, maybe a little swollen; it was hard to tell. There was a knock on the door behind him. "Hey, what's going on in there?" Robin's voice startled him. He laughed at the girl in the mirror, whose large green eyes narrowed and twinkled like never before, whose face turned beet red, whose full lips stretched into a smile. "Uh, nothing." "Well, come on. We've got clothes to try on." He got it now. The desire to dress up. It was like being a doll. Here he was, she was, perfect in form--plump breasts, tiny waist, broad sloping hips, shiny legs and all--and why not dress her up? What would she look like in a skirt? How about a big long prom dress? Or a wedding dress? Heels? What would denim shorts do to her legs? There was cleavage to play with, outfits to sample--tee shirts and ponytails; midriff baring blouses, exposing her little "outy"; cocktail dresses; everything he'd ever seen a woman wear in the movies or at parties. *He* could now wear those things. And if he did, he'd be the center of attention. There was no doubt about that. He flipped the ends of his blonde hair (was it his imagination or was there streaks of white in it?), tossed his long hair like he'd seem women do in shampoo commercials. He froze then and gathered his wits. Where in the hell did all that come from? Robin called through the bathroom door. "Come on, Kayla." He turned and opened it. "Who's Kayla?" She grinned and took his hand, their soft palms melding together. "You don't like it? How about Karen? That's closer to Kevin, but I like Kayla better." He swallowed. "What are you talking about?" She tugged him into the bedroom, met his eyes, and explained. "If you're going to be a girl, you have to have a girl's name, don't you?" He frowned. "I don't know." She laughed. "Just go with it. You'll love it. I promise." She turned and whipped open the closet doors, revealing a portal of feminine accouterment, giggling. "Oh, this is going to be such fun!" 7 It didn't take long, one outfit actually, before he realized that Robin had indeed made his breasts bigger than her own. Kevin spilled out of every top he tried on, but being a typical guy, he mostly liked the effect. She put a hand on his arm and explained, "Believe me, sweetie, you're not ready for that kind of attention." "What are you talking about? I'm hot!" "You're hot enough without advertising. No matter what you wear, you'll be hot, okay? This kind of thing--" she eyed Kevin's ample cleavage "--will bring the wrong kind of attention." Kevin hoisted up his breasts, winced a little, fiddling for the umpteenth time with the undersized bra. The straps were digging into his shoulders and armpits. "Are you kidding? Look at me. I could open doors with these puppies." Robin nodded and tried harder. "Look, it's like this. A girl dresses for her mood. Well, sometimes she dresses for how late she is." She waved her hands in the air, forcing her brain back on track. "Anyway, a girl dresses to send a message. This message says, 'Fuck me'. Get it? I think you want something a little more subdued than that." "Well, what difference does it make. It's not like I'm going to a bar or anything." "No, but we are going to the mall." He stared at her solemnly. "No, we're not." "Sweetie, we have to. It's clear my clothes won't fit you." Kevin's mind raced, his eyes shifted back and forth. "Then-- then I have to change." Robin smiled. "That's the spirit." "No, I mean I have to *change*. You know... back into a guy." "Why? We'll need your new girly shape to get a good fit." "What do you mean?" "Kayla, sweetie, we're going as girls to get you some girl clothes." "But--" "You can't wear mine. That much is obvious." "But you could just shrink me. Or I could--" "Oh, no. You're not messing around with my work. You're perfect. Look at yourself." Kevin's eyes flitted back to the full length mirror. There *she* stood in all her glory, black knit skirt, just above the knee, tight red sleeveless blouse, breasts spilling out, legs dark and silky in black hose, propped up on a pair of red pumps, absolutely gorgeous, even with her long blonde hair uncombed and her face unpainted. "Do you really want to change back so soon?" Robin asked. It wasn't that he didn't want to change back; it was that he didn't want to lose sight of this beautiful girl. He was still all guy inside, and enjoying having his own personal centerfold/doll to pose however he wanted, to say whatever sexy things he wanted. Then there was the promise of a girl on girl tryst with Robin. He'd have to get out the camcorder for that. "Well...." "Besides, part of a girl experience is shopping. Haven't we had fun so far?" He nodded, smiled, watched Kayla nod and smile in the mirror. Her green eyes seemed larger somehow. She looked baby soft, innocent, even in the "fuck me" clothes. "But we do have to get you into some shopping clothes." He turned, his pretty face so cute with its befuddled expression. "Shopping clothes?" She stroked his cheek. "You need something that's still sexy and smart, but that's easy to slip in and out of." Robin dived into the closet for just the thing, leaving Kevin to think. When she reemerged with the first hopeful, he said, "Can I ask you something?" "You can ask me as you're getting dressed." He unbuttoned the blouse and felt his breasts explode out. They slapped against his rib cage and jiggled to a halt. He liked the effect so much he did a little jump to make them do it again. He jumped up and down, then froze, slapping his arms across them. "Ooh." Robin eyed him with a smirk. "Doesn't feel so good. Does it?" "No, it kind of hurt." She nodded. "What was your question?" Before he could ask it, she snapped at him. "Come on, don't dawdle. Let's go." He twisted his arms behind him, and began the awkward, blind search for the skirt zipper. "Why is it?" He searched further and started to turn slowly like a dog chasing its tail. "Why, uh--" She was just about to help when he seized on it and slid the zipper down. Next was the bra, which even he had to admit didn't quite go with the blouse. It wasn't supposed to be so visible, was it? "Why did you make me so short? Even in heels I'm shorter than you. " "Guys like girls who are petite. Besides, I wanted you to get a feeling for how it is to always be smaller than everyone else. You wouldn't get that very much if we were the same size. So I made you a little smaller." Kevin held up his breasts and eyed her. "Oops," she laughed, "and a little bigger." 8 An entire of day slipping into and out of every outfit had left them exhausted and broke. Although, there was something about it all that was pleasing. "Kayla" now had more clothes to play with, and they fit her to a T. They were no less gorgeous or sexy, but slightly less busty. There were tops that accentuated her breasts and tops that hid them. And the latter, when coupled with just the right skirt, accentuated instead her hips and legs. There were shoes that were almost comfortable, and shoes that were not about comfort, but which, even Kevin had to admit, looked so drop-dead gorgeous on her that she had to get them, she just had to. And he'd noticed something else. Like his old guy self, this new body had a mind of its own. Perhaps even more so. The most he ever had to worry about before was acquiring the odd, unexpected, public erection. Now, it seemed his body, or her body, had a way of doing things that were unconsciously sexy, full of signals that *she* wasn't even aware of. On the way into the store, a cool breeze had slipped through her hair, lightly kissed the nape of her neck, stroked her bare arms, and her nipples had instantly popped up. She felt them, looked down and saw them, through the bra, through the shirt, and suddenly felt warm in the face. There was that "leaky" feeling again. If being a man had been about feeling hard and strong, being a girl was about feeling soft and gushy. The cool air conditioning of the mall didn't help. Her nipples remained "up". The thing was--and he'd never noticed this before (not consciously anyway)--that a girl moved differently when she was aroused. Kevin wasn't sure he *was* aroused frankly. He just felt good. His nipples were up, he had a slight sensation of dampness "down there", but that was about it. There was no urge to fuck or even to be fucked, just an overall kind of dreamy feeling. She felt good, she felt sexy, she felt relaxed and happy, and her body was finding ways to display it without her knowledge. Once Robin had whispered, "Cut that out." He hadn't known what she was talking about. "The way you're walking. Tame it down." Then he noticed that he *was* doing things: brushing his hair out of his eyes, tossing it with quick shakes of the head; licking his lips; twisting his hips a little. Jesus, he had been strutting and hadn't even known it! Suddenly, he became aware of the eyes, men's eyes, boy's eyes, watching them. He tried to ignore them, but there was a lot to ignore. Every once in awhile, on the usual look around, he'd make contact. And what a contact. This was not the, "Hey, how's it going?" kind of contact. Oh, no. This was, "I want to devour you whole." It popped the story of Little Red Riding Hood into Kayla's mind. She felt like a little girl surrounded by wolves. How did women put up with it all? You couldn't make eye contact with anyone. Short of keeping your eyes on the ground, it was a constant day of looking past people, looking through people, pretending you didn't notice their stares. Kayla felt constantly exposed, constantly on display. 9 A quick, sweet kiss had Kevin breathless. Even kissing was different. The sensations were softer, deeper, more subtle somehow, and yet it was the same lips to lips phenomena. "Had a nice nap?" Robin purred. Kevin stretched and felt like purring himself. In his little girl voice he smiled and said, "What now?" The invitation was offered and taken. Robin crawled on top of him and giggled. "I have an idea." Before, when Robin was on top, Kevin knew he could throw her off anytime, turn the tables at a moment's notice, sink his cock deep into her and firmly take control. Now, it was a toss up. Kayla was smaller, her arms thinner, her wrists tiny in comparison. But far from alarming him, he was surprised to find it excited him. As a man, it was all about control. As a woman, it was all about control. Same coin, but vastly different sides. He didn't struggle, didn't try to turn the tables. He enjoyed the feeling of being trapped beneath her, felt oddly comforted by it. The thrill of passivity rushed through him. Robin wrapped her hands around Kevin's small wrists. At once, Kevin's breath became shallow; he swallowed, licked his lips unconsciously and parted them. "What's your idea?" Robin grinned, gazing hard into his eyes. "We should get you all dolled up. Really do it right. Show how you it feels, and--" Robin laughed "--show you how long it really takes." Kevin's laugh was like the titter of a happy four year old. He couldn't believe such a baby-girl's giggle had come out of him. "You're going to clue me in on the forbidden secrets of the female?" Robin's lips hovered above his, but when he opened his mouth to receive her, she bit his chin instead. His nipples twitched to life. Robin's thumb found one of them, flipped back and forth across it idly. He closed his eyes and smiled dreamily, floated for a moment in the hot foamy bubble-bath of pleasure. He was ordered to the shower, and given a regiment in no uncertain terms: Use this shampoo. Use this conditioner. Put it in, count to sixty, then rinse it *all* out. Use this soap. Use this razor and this cream. Shave like this, legs *and* pits. Be careful around the knees and ankles. Call me when you're done. When he stepped from the tub, dripping and glistening and squeaky clean, Robin handed him two towels. He frowned at her. "What's the other one for?" She draped one around his torso, then showed him how to make a turban out of the other, twisting his hair up inside it, explaining, "You don't want your hair to dry too fast." "Why not?" "Because we have lots to do to it. Anyway, first things first. We've still got your skin to take care of." First came the lotion. He expected a greasy mess, but was surprised at how quickly it soaked in. If his legs had been smooth before, now they were as slick as an eel and twice as shiny. By the time Robin was done, arms, belly, and breasts, paying special attention to his buttocks, he was soft all over. It was a good feeling, being soft; he felt like an angel in the billowy clouds, and the way Robin leered at his naked body heated him up from the inside out. Now he knew how Robin had been feeling all this time. Every time he sank his fingers into her breasts, or clutched her ass, showing her his wanton desire, his need for her, she experienced what he felt now. Suddenly, he wanted to see *her* again--Kayla. He needed the shock of her again, needed to desire her again. The eat-you-up desire was becoming harder and harder to hold on to. Running through his head now were the being-swallowed-whole fantasies. He needed to awaken his male libido once again. Robin admonished him playfully, wagging her finger in front of his face. "No-no, no peeking. I want the full effect." "What are--" But he didn't have a chance. He was led to a tall barstool in the living room. Robin had rolled two enormous curlers into his hair, one for each side, and he'd been left to drip dry. She began handing him clothes, one by one. Slip into these panties. Why those? No questions. A thong, of course. He should've known. Every female torture would become known to him before she was through. It was so low cut, so shoestring skimpy that it barely covered anything at all. The brassiere wasn't much better. Black and lacy and lifting. So that's how cleavage was made. He poked his finger down into it and giggled. "Hi guys." "Please," Robin complained, "they're girls." Stockings were next and they were nice and cool and tingly. Those he liked. The shoes, which he could just spot in the box, were killers. Killer fashion, death to the feet. He squeezed into the leather skirt, which thankfully zipped up on the side, even if it was a little tight, but as he reached for the blouse(his first assertive act all evening) she slapped his hand. "You can't put that on now." "Why not?" "Do you want to get makeup all over it?" "Why do I need makeup. I'm hot enough already." Robin looked to the heavens and shook her head. "He just doesn't get it." Cupping Kayla's little chin in hers, she smirked like the devil. "Just wait and see." Makeup was greasy and sticky and smelled like medicine. He did not like makeup. Through foundation, powdered blush, the painful precision of eyeliner, the ticklishness of eye shadow, the fly-crawling slowness of the lip liner, the gluey lipstick, and the constant contortion of his face, he sat, whining like a child in a museum. "Aren't we through yet?" He got a top coat of powder to "set" everything, a coat of gloss, and he was done. He sighed with relief feeling like an entombed queen, mask and all. Robin, however, had just gotten started. The curlers came out and so did the hair dryer, mousse, and two kinds of brushes, one round, one flat. She was like Presto The Amazing, flitting from side to side, jabbing him in the ribs every time he sagged. Afterwards, he felt stiff and very unsexy. He couldn't touch his face, couldn't itch his nose, couldn't touch his hair, couldn't move. At all. And it was hot. The stretch top had long sleeves and a low cut front, which had looked awesome in the store, but was giving him second thoughts now. He was a little *too* on display. He might as well be in a store front window. She dangled two long earrings from his lobes, which she had the foresight to pierce while "creating" him, and they were nothing but annoying. He lived in constant fear that they would get caught in his hair and he would look like a fool trying to untangle them. "Here." Robin handed him the strappy sandals. Again, gorgeous in the store, not so ideal for walking around in. Kevin tightened the tiny buckle and felt a foot taller, if a little wobbly. "Practice," she ordered, disappearing into the bedroom, barking out instructions. "Remember! Heel toe!" "Christ," he muttered, "they won't let me walk any other way." Just as he made it to the opposite side of the room and was preparing to turn, he spotted Robin out of the corner of his eye. It wasn't easy, he was hemmed in by hair. He had to toss it out of his way to get a better look. "Let your hips go more. Don't be afraid to exaggerate them a little. You can tame them down later. Move like you were moving in the mall." "I can't." "Why not?" 'Because I was horny as hell then and now I feel like The Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz.' Robin was busy shaking a small red bottle at the bedroom door. "That's better. Smaller steps though. Let your hands relax." Kevin stopped and sighed. "Just shut up already. I'll get it." He was so cute, she couldn't help but laugh. His anger added pink to the blush on his cheeks, made his green eyes huge, and flashed his earrings as he shook his head. He stopped and glared at her, both hands poised dramatically on his pretty hips. "What's so funny?" "Well," she giggled, "look at yourself." He was going to say, "I can't! You won't let me have a mirror!", but when he noticed his pose he couldn't help but laugh. It was the same pose she always adopted when she was giving him hell. Plus, he was surprised by how naturally his had hands drifted on to his hips. "So," he wondered, sounding more like a prepubescent girl than ever, "that's why girls always stand like this." Robin went to his aid, slipped an arm around him. "Come on, princess. Let's go have a look in the magic mirror. Then we can paint your nails." Teetering on his heels, he grumbled, "Don't call me princess." 10 Kayla was super model perfection. Flawless complexion, wet ruby lips, big innocent green eyes, her blonde hair brushed to a shine, the ends curled in, framing her sweet face. Red fingernails, red toenails. "Oh... " Her jaw dropped, eyes popped wide open, giving her the "deer in the headlights" expression. "Oh my... " She raised her hand in disbelief. This couldn't be her. It was an illusion. It had to be. While the hand was up there, she swept a strand of hair out of her eyes and it was so graceful, so feminine, Kevin almost forgot he'd ever been anyone else. He stared and stared and stared, looking *her* up and down, admiring the curves, admiring the clothes, even (God help him) admiring the shoes. As uncomfortable as they were, impossible to walk in, they made his legs so long and sexy that he couldn't resist them. Even Robin was impressed. This was something of a wish for her too. She couldn't have been that unconsciously sexy if she'd tried, and she had. 11 "Keep your legs crossed," Robin whispered to him across the table. There was an open bottle of Merlot before them and two filled glasses. "What?" "Cross them like this, above the knee. See?" He peered around the table at her legs. "Why?" "It's a good habit to get into." "But that doesn't tell me why." "Just do it and keep doing it. And don't lean across the table like that." Kevin rolled his eyes. Robin sighed and explained. "It's about not showing the world your goods." Kevin looked around at the busy place. "No one's even paying attention to--" One man made eye contact over his date's shoulder. Kevin looked away, and right into the eyes of another man walking by. He smiled at her eagerly. He looked away again. "When you lean across the table I can see right down your top. When you forget to cross your legs you risk showing your panties." He felt his cheeks redden, brushed a ticklish strand of hair from his cheek yet again, and crossed his legs. It wasn't uncomfortable; there wasn't anything to crush, and it was a chance to rub his slick legs together. He thought he could get used to crossing and uncrossing his legs just to feel the tingle of the nylons. "Okay, when the waiter comes, smile at him and kind of blink a lot." Kevin was just about to sip some wine when he laughed. He almost dribbled it on himself and that would've been a tragedy. "What? Why?" "Just do it." "Blink a lot," he said, trying to make his tone deadpan, but with his little girl voice it came out more like naivet?. "Well, not blink exactly. It's more like fluttering your eyelids every now and then. The rest of the time you should concentrate on keeping your eyes nailed to his. When you're doing that, blink really slow and smile slow. Do everything slow, and, um, try leaning a little towards him." He put the glass down, spotted the waiter, who spotted *her* immediately. To Robin, he said, "Why am I doing this? I mean, how dumb do you think this guy is? He's going to *know* what I'm doing." Robin smirked. "Try it and let's see if he does." As the waiter approached, Robin whispered one final piece of advice, "But don't make it obvious. Try it for real." "Hello, ladies. How's the wine?" They both said it was fine. Robin eyed him, urged him on. He wasn't sure he could go through with it. "So are, uh, we ready to order?" The "we" was aimed solely at Kayla. Robin was beginning to feel a little invisible. Kevin looked down at his menu, felt a light little kick under the table. "Um," Kayla looked up at him, blinked a couple of times, "could you recommend something?" The waiter moved to her side, brushing her arm. He leaned over her and peered down at the menu. The only way for him to get closer was to crawl into her lap. "Well," he said softly, his tone dropping, "this is delicious, if you like steak." He pointed to an item, the bottom of his hand resting on the top of hers. Kevin pulled away. "No, not really." He was trying to discourage the boy, but pulling away only seemed to draw him in further. The boy inched closer. She could feel his breath on her cheek. "Oh-oh, of course. You're probably trying to keep that incredible figure, am I right?" Kevin opened his mouth to speak but was promptly cut off. "Let's see, if you like chicken, this is really good. It has a nice cream sauce." It did sound good actually, and Kevin made the mistake of commenting on it. "Ooh, I like cream sauces." Even as the words were leaving Kayla's lips, he knew it was a mistake. He could hear the dry "clack" of the waiter's swallow. He retreated as far away from him as he could without falling off the chair. "I'll, uh, have that, I guess." The waiter smiled, gazed hard into her eyes. "Anything else?" Kevin looked up at him, saw the wolf in his eyes, and found it difficult to tear herself away. Feeling sexy and desirable was one thing, but this guy wanted something she couldn't deliver. Kayla felt trapped, felt small and helpless, and with a pitiful whisper replied, "N-no, thank you." "I'll have the steak," Robin blurted out. For a moment, Kevin was afraid the waiter was going to snap at her, but then he blinked and seemed to come out of his trance. To Robin he said, "Huh?" "The steak," Robin repeated. "I'd like that." "Oh, okay." He wrote her order down. He hadn't written Kevin's. Kevin guessed there was no doubt he'd remember it. "If you ladies," the waiter said to Kayla and Kayla alone, "need anything, just use that pretty voice of yours and I'll come running. Anything at all." Kevin smiled and fluttered her eyes as per Robin's instructions. When he'd gone, Robin laughed. "Christ, I thought he was gonna get down on his knees and start begging." Kevin breathed with relief, sank down in his chair, put his head in his hands and groaned. "I can't believe I ever agreed to this." "What do you mean? Didn't you feel it?" He looked at her. "Feel what?" Robin's jaw hung open. "What?" he repeated. "Kayla... the power. Didn't you feel it?" He thought about it. "What power?" She shook her head with disbelief. "He would've done anything for you--will do anything. All you have to do is smile and laugh and be sweet and toss your hair and give him a little cleavage and use that little girl voice and he'll come running. He'll give you anything you want. *That* power." Kevin narrowed his eyes, expecting a bad punch line. Then, when it didn't come, he was left to ponder her words. "Nah," he said, "men aren't that stupid." "Kayla, sweetie, I don't mean any disrespect. I mean--I love men, okay? But, yes, they are." "But it's not like I could get him to tear up the bill or anything." "Well, the more you want the more you have to give. If you agreed to a date with him, not only would he eat the bill, he'd probably swallow his own tongue. All you'd have to do is ask." "So we're suckers." Robin patted his small hand. "Not suckers. Just men." He wasn't about to go on a date with the guy, but he was curious about what he could get away with. How much *could* he get out of him? What could he make him do? How much power did just one of Kayla's smiles really have? He wasn't about to find out, but Robin kept pouring the wine, and in typical guy fashion, he kept drinking it, not thinking about his decreased tolerance. Kevin might have had a hollow leg, but Kayla did not. After only three glasses, he was feeling warm and squirmy and delicious. Kayla leaned towards the waiter every time he came around. Kayla smiled and giggled at the guy's compliments. Kayla's eyelids fluttered like two butterflies when he announced, unbelievably, "You have the prettiest eyes." And Robin knew a good thing when she saw one. With Kayla nice and warm and tipsy, it was an easy thing to convince her to engage in some after dinner plans. Why not a little dancing? "No, I couldn't. All those sweaty guys rubbing up against me." "Kayla, sweetie, we could get free drinks all night long. Hell, in most clubs we can get in free. And it's not like you have to do anything. You see how have our waiter running his ass off? Imagine what you can do once you've let a guy get his hands on you. Come on, it'll be fun." "But I hate dancing." "Kevin hates dancing. Kayla will love it. It's a chance to really let loose. You know you want to. You've been doing nothing but holding it in all day. Wouldn't you like to go a little wild, shake your self silly?" Kayla's eyes were glassy, but there was a grin on her face. "I don't know." She sipped some more wine and saw the print of her lipstick on the glass. At once she felt an urge to check her makeup, to recreate the glossy and sultry ruby red lips. "Think about it, Kevin. Imagine Kayla on the dance floor. Imagine her skirt riding up, tossing her hair. Imagine her making all the guys crazy. And then, afterward, you can leave them with their mouths wide open when you leave with me. We'll have a big kiss at the door and make them cream in their shorts." They laughed. But she was right, Kevin realized. Kayla really did have the power to get almost anything she wanted. Hell, if someone like her had come around before he met Robin.... 12 The music was infectious. It got under his skin, under his skirt, tickled his spine, tweaked his nipples. Was he more responsive to it now that he was a woman? Maybe it was the constant flow of liquor. Between the buzz that filled her head and the pounding music, Kayla had completely forgotten about Kevin. There was only the dance floor and men. Lots of men. For a guy who'd never so much as set foot on a stage, it was another world. A world filled with limelight. A world filled with gushing compliments. Even Robin was surprised by how much attention Kayla got. When she'd said Kayla would be fighting them off, she had no idea. From the moment she'd entered, there had been a constant stream of men, a constant stream of drinks appearing on the table. Without warning, Robin felt her heart growing black. Like a slow rot, jealousy set in. She could come to hate "Kayla". Kevin collapsed into the chair beside his girlfriend. "Whew!" he giggled. "You're right. This *is* fun!" "How come you're not dancing?" "I had to stop. *Someone* was getting too grabby." Yet another man approached them, or rather, Robin fumed, approached "Kayla". He squatted besides the giggly blonde and yelled into her ear, still barely audible over the music. "You were on fire out there!" Kayla turned and smiled, mouthing the word, "thanks". "Robert!" He offered his hand. She took it by the fingers and gave it a half shake, tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder and set her green eyes on him. Only a woman with a man inside could notice the way Robert shifted his position to accommodate his new "growth". "Kayla!" "I gotta get you back out there! Show you some of *my* stuff!" "Oh, thanks, but--" "We could put these assholes to shame!" He tugged on her hand, crushing her tender fingers in his relentless grip. "C'mon, let's show 'em some real shit!" "I'm tired just now, thanks!" She tried to reclaim her hand, but it wasn't happening. He leaned forward as if to yell in her ear again, but ended up nuzzling her neck, his unshaven chin scraping her soft shoulder. "I ain't taking no for an answer!" Kayla blinked like a frightened rabbit, glanced to Robin for help. Robin seriously considered letting "Kayla" fight her own battle. Let the bitch learn what men were really like. But, finally, she yielded to her better nature. She showed Kayla her watch and yelled, "Look at the time!" Kayla nodded. "Yeah, right!" She turned and shrugged. "Sorry! We're leaving! Maybe next time!" The man squeezed her hand tighter. "Just one dance!" "Can't! Gotta go!" He scowled, shook his head. "Bullshit! You're just blowing me off!" Robin was on her feet. She held Kayla's purse out to her. The man let Kayla's hand go so she could grab it. The man stood with her. "Aw, c'mon!" "Sorry!" She couldn't think of anything else to say. He was scaring the shit out of her. They headed for the door and Kayla made the mistake of looking back. The guy raised his hand and flipped her off. The busy street was like a silent movie in comparison, so quiet, so peaceful. Kayla cursed. "Can you believe that guy?" Robin nodded, made her way through the drunken crowd to the street corner. Kayla hurried after her, the strappy heels hampering her progress. "I mean, what an asshole! Jesus, I thought he was gonna like rape me or something! All I said was no. If he'd just given me a break I would've danced with him later. What a fucking jerk!" At the corner, Robin turned on her. "Well what do you fucking expect the way you were strutting it for everyone?" Kayla flinched. Robin started across the street. Kayla stood there, dumbfounded, too shocked to move. When the lights turned, she came to her senses and hurried after her. They walked in silence for awhile. "Robin." Kayla wrapped her arms around herself, tucked them under her breasts, feeling as if the world had suddenly turned impossibly cold. "Robin." Robin ignored her. Her voice thick with sorrow, tears streaming down her face, Kayla called again. "Robin." Robin paused, took a deep breath, rubbed her forehead with two fingers, and turned, surprised by what she saw. Kayla stood there sobbing, lips quivering in a sorrowful grimace, tears dripping off her chin, embracing herself with a death grip. Her knees were pressed tight together, feet slightly apart, giving her sexy, unbalanced appearance. "What did I do?" "Oh my god." "What?" Robin nearly laughed. "You're crying." Kevin realized she was right. It hadn't even occurred to him. He hadn't cried in years, not since the funeral of his favorite aunt. He brushed a wet cheek with a delicate hand and peered at it in the streetlight. "I--I can't help it." Robin folded her arms around her and Kayla really let go. "I don't understand what I did." Robin shushed her. "You did a terrible thing." Kayla met her eyes, sniffling. "What?" Robin rolled her eyes, sighed. "You upstaged me." Kayla blinked and a crease appeared between her thin shaped eyebrows. "Huh?" Robin laughed. "I got mad because you were getting all of the attention." "I'm sorry." "Don't be. I guess you just surprised me." "It feels so different. I had no idea how--how naked you guys feel all the time, how fragile." He wiped his cheeks. "God, what's wrong with me?" "Nothing," Robin replied. "It's just hormones." "Well, I hate it. I want to change back now." "Look at you. You're smudging your makeup." Kayla touched her face unconsciously. "Come on, let's get you fixed up, then we'll go home." Arm in arm, they found a bar with a subdued atmosphere and headed to the bathroom. Unfortunately, Kayla had yet to experience the phenomena of the never-ending "restroom line". 13 It took forever to get into the bathroom, and even then it was filled to capacity. Every stall, every counter, every mirror. Kayla locked the stall behind her and realized for the first time she would have to undress to do her business. Through the door, Robin called as softly as she could. "Don't forget what I told you." Kayla whispered back. "Okay, okay." She wanted to say, "I *have* gone to the bathroom before you know," but bit her tongue. Down came the hose, down came the panties--she massaged the crack of her ass and her hips where the straps had cut in. Up came the skirt, down went her bottom on the cold porcelain seat. It took only a second before the hot, acidic relief sent goose pimples crawling down her arms. Her shoulders shuddered. All that time in line had really boiled her kettle. By the time she made it in, she was ready to burst. What a weird night, Kevin thought and laughed quietly. He wiped--yeah, yeah, front to back--flushed, and started dressing himself again. What a pain in the ass. All women did all day was dress, undress, dress again, put on makeup, fix makeup, adjust their tops, adjust their skirts, straighten their hose, fix their hair again and again and again. It never stopped. While he waited for Robin, he spied an open space at the mirror. He caught a woman watching him and gave her a friendly smile. The woman scowled and turned away. It caught Kevin off guard. What had he done to deserve that? He tried fixing his makeup, but didn't do a very good job of it. By the time Robin joined him, he just wanted to get the hell out of there. Outside, it dawned on him, he hadn't managed one secretive glance at any of the women. Not one snapshot of a panty, not even a reaction to the woman who was hoisting her boobs back into position. Robin fixed his face as best as she could, but not to "Kayla's" satisfaction. "Look, we're never gonna get it as good as before," Robin told her, "just live with it." There was that tone again. He told her about the woman in the bathroom, and she nodded with understanding. "Well, you should probably get used to that." "But I don't get it. I don't even know her." "Kayla, sweetheart, girls aren't as nice and as sweet as you think. Oh, around men, sure, but around each other...." "Really." Kevin was truly shocked. "We're real bitches at heart." "But--" "You did the one thing that no woman can stand." "What was that?" "You were more beautiful than she was." "Okay, that settles it. I don't want to know anymore about you guys. I'm ready to change back now." Robin's smile dropped. "Wait a minute. Do this." She pressed her lips together. Kayla imitated her. "There. Now just apply a little powder and put on another coat." Kayla grumbled. "I'm getting sick of all this. I feel like I have a mask on." "Don't think of it as a mask. Think of it as a filter. It hides all the flaws and accentuates all the natural beauty." Kayla twisted the tube of ruby red lipstick open, and felt the greasy slip of it across her lips. When she was done, she glanced into the compact mirror again and checked her teeth. Even Robin was amazed at how quickly it had all became second nature for her. She didn't get two steps before she remembered. "Oh... gloss." Robin felt like the mother of a teenage girl who'd just discovered makeup. She rolled her eyes and made her way for the bar. 14 It didn't take long before someone "discovered" Kayla. Although, Kayla's reaction was anything but expected. The tall stranger sat a glass on the table before her and smiled. "Here ya go." Kayla waved it away. "No, thanks. I'm done drinking for the night." The man laughed. "It's not a drink. It's water." Kayla peered up at him, confused. "You look like a girl who's had a full night." He had nice eyes, blue, friendly, a warm Southern twang to his voice. His body was lean, a little lanky. He was nothing but smooth, and she felt the effects right away. It had taken less than three seconds for her to fall under his spell. A second more and she was utterly captivated. "Th-thanks." Before she could touch the glass, he added a straw. The foresight was touching. Now she wouldn't mess up her lipstick. Here was a guy who understood women. Even Kevin was impressed. This was the kind of guy who stole away all his girlfriends, and now he understood why. "Thanks," she repeated. She was reminded of the jerk that had driven her out of the last bar. With him, she'd found herself repeating "I'm sorry" over and over, but with this guy, it was "thank you, thank you, thank you." Robin watched as her boyfriend--firmly ensconced in Kayla's luscious body--was quietly swept off his feet. "I was just about to plug a quarter into the old jukebox over there. What do you say? You like the Eagles?" "Uh, sure, they're okay, I guess." His smile grew. "My goodness, you sure are a pretty thing, aren't you?" Her cheeks were on fire. She couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, could only squeak out yet another in a long string of "thank you's". He grinned at Robin, who felt firsthand the heat of his charm. "Excuse me, miss, but do you think I could steal away your friend here for a bit? I promise I'll take good care of her." Robin stammered. "Uh, well, uh--" "Thanks, darlin'." Before Kayla knew it she was on her feet and being led away. How did he do that? Kevin wondered. But before he could drudge up another thought, "Kayla" was distracted by the warmth of the man's hand on the small of her back. He ushered her to the jukebox, chatting the entire way. "I'm Matt, by the way. I didn't catch your name." "Kay--Kayla." "That's a pretty name you got there, Kayla." He fed the jukebox, punched A-15, and took her small hand in his. Was it just her or was his grip like a heated mitten, soft and warm and comfortable? "You don't mind if I lead, do you?" She couldn't help laughing. He used the moment to whip her around into his arms. It was thrilling. This guy was good. She responded automatically, her feet pivoting, her arms settling naturally into position around him. It was like he knew her body better than she did. He took her hand and held it against his shoulder, making her realize just how much shorter she was. With that hot hand glued to the small of her back, he gently, so gently it went unnoticed, drew her closer. Before she knew it, her breasts were pressing into his chest, her hips swaying in helpless obedience, matching his, their clasped hands melting together. Every time she started to get herself together, prepared to extricate herself, he whipped her around, thrilling her to the core, distracting her. Every time Kevin threatened to reemerge, Kayla's breath lodged higher in her throat, her cheeks inflamed a little more. Every time, she felt smaller, more firmly possessed. Every time, she melted further down and down, until she could no longer resist, and didn't want to. She was his. Oh God, was she his. She wanted to be his. She had to be. But what if he didn't want her? What if-- She responded, or rather, her body responded, no longer distant, but actively warming, glowing, spreading its delicate gossamer wings, placing the word "yes" on her wet lips. He must've noticed the difference, because he let her hand go and drew her closer. This was so much better than the mall. She wasn't just a little aroused, a little "leaky"; she was on fire, and the gush between her legs was like a flammable syrup. Her aching feet disappeared, and for a moment she thought about having him between her soft thighs, about him pressing her back as Robin had done, capturing her wrists in his large hands, with so much more strength, so much more force, imprisoning her securely and forever until-- His lips were on hers. For an instant, Kevin exploded back to life, whispering "Oh shit!" in her mind, then their mouths gushed hot and wet. His cologne intoxicated her. She tasted the flavor of his mouth, punctuated with whiskey, and the waxy flavor of her own lipstick, but the two soon melted and became one. It was a *deep* kiss, all the way down to her toes. She felt them curl, felt her back spasm and arch in compensation. She felt tiny enough to fit in his hand. She felt herself push against him, press her mouth into his, press her breasts into him, press everything she was into him. She wanted to disappear into him. She wanted to be swallowed whole. When the eternity had passed and the kiss broke, his breath fell like a warm cloud down over her face. "Whew, darlin'," he sighed. "I--" She had to get away. "I need--" God, it felt so good. "I need a break." He was on her heels back to the table. Her thoughts were swimming. She had to find a way to escape, to get Robin away, to surface and steal a quick breath. "Uh," she turned and smiled sweetly, thinking of the waiter she'd charmed so effortlessly earlier. She couldn't do it to Matt though. She was too aroused. Fortunately, her body was on automatic, eyes like glittering emeralds, lips glistening, voice soft and curious. "Could you go, uh, get me a drink?" He laughed. "Well, sure, darlin'. What'll you have?" "Um," she pretended to think, "something sweet?" Before he could suggest anything, she grabbed Robin by the hand and jerked her into the bathroom. "What's going on?" Robin wondered. "Why'd you stop? You guys were really hitting it off." "We gotta get me the hell out of here." "But why?" "Because this guy is pushing all my buttons." Robin grinned. "I can see that. You're all in a tizzy." "Robin," Kevin panted, "help me." She lifted Kayla's chin with a finger, which only served to make her feel helpless and childlike again. "I will help. I'll give you some advice. Are you listening?" Kayla looked up into Robin's eyes and nodded. Robin brought her face close and whispered intimately. "Go with it. Let him take you. Let him flood over you and wash you away. He's a good guy. You'll always end up on shore with him. Although, maybe a little weak in the knees." Kayla swallowed, dropped her eyes. "My knees are already weak." Kevin thought about it. How bad could it be? Kayla wanted it. Her *body* wanted it. Why not? "What am I thinking? No, damnit!" "What's the problem?" Robin's voice was quiet and reassuring. "The problem is I don't want to be with this guy. I'm with you. He only wants one thing and I can't let that happen." Robin let her catch her breath. "So, you're saying you don't want him because he only wants sex? Because he doesn't want a relationship?" She started to say yes, then realized how ridiculous that sounded. Robin continued. "Kayla... that's all you want too." "Yes, but... he just wants to use me." She put her arm around her. "Sweetie, he can't use if you want to be used. Get it?" Kayla was on the verge. If she broke now, she'd never be able to stop herself. One more gaze into Matt's blue eyes and she would be lost. Kevin would get the experience of a lifetime. After a long silence, Kevin said, hating his tiny chipmunk voice, "I can't. I just can't." Robin sighed. "Okay." 15 It had not been an easy escape. "Kayla" had surrendered her number, which was really Robin's number. They would think of something to tell Matt when he called, right now Kevin was too exhausted to think. At home, he kicked off his shoes and sat down to massage his feet. Robin heated some soup for them and listened to his sighs from the other room. After a quick meal, Kevin turned to her and said, "I'm done. I'm going to change back." "I don't think so." "What do you mean?" She wore a solemn expression. The truth was coming out and he wasn't going to like it. "I made it so you can't change back without me." After a short pause, he laughed. She shrugged. "Try if you want, but you're not going to have much luck." "I've been changing myself all my life. What makes you think it's a power you can take away." She shifted on the couch, turned to eye him directly. "When you were under, you gave me everything, your body and, yes, your mind too. I made a few changes myself." He smirked, stood, smirked again, and went to the bedroom. After nearly thirty minutes, she went in to check on him. She'd stripped down, cleaned up, and got into her pajamas. When she crawled in with him, she felt his body stiffen. The silence passed slowly. The darkness was just claiming her, when his voice awoke her. "Why?" "Because." She rolled toward him, rubbed his shoulders. "Because why?" "Because I want you to experience all of it. Tonight, you almost did. You should've. I would've let you change back if you had." Robin's hands dipped down. He was still dressed in his club clothes. She caressed his thigh, worked her way up, past the top of his stocking, until she came to his panties. "Why is it so important for me to get laid as a woman?" Her fingers knew the way. They slipped beneath the silk and found his lips. With a light touch she rubbed up and down, tickling the curls, until his thighs parted. It was an almost invo