The Great Shift: Outside Looking In free porn video
The Great Shift: Outside Looking In
by BlueshifTG
Everybody tells me I'm lucky. It didn't really affect me.
Like most people, I got shifted. I wound up in my brother's body.
Everybody said we were practically identical, hard to tell apart.
Not for me.
I look in the mirror, and yes, it's very similar. But the tiny
differences stand out like mountains to me. Did you know there's a word
for that little indentation on your upper lip under the septum? Yeah.
Philtrum. Well, it's wrong; it's too wide at the bottom, spreads out
too much. It leaps out at me every morning when I shave. There's a
tooth in back with a filling that isn't quite perfect, and I can't stop
worrying it with my tongue. There's a scar on my shin but not on my
side, where I cracked a rib when I was eleven. And the eyes are the
wrong shade of brown. I'll tell you later about something else.
When I talk to people, I'm convinced they don't notice details about
themselves because they're too focused on the big differences. I guess
we only have so much attention, and if we notice big, we won't notice
small.
But I admit it's been easy for me to adjust. Really all I had to deal
with was a vague sense of alienness. The world still seems much the
same. Some people got taller or shorter, some lighter or heavier--which
means that everything from chairs to stairs feels different--or older or
younger, changed race, ability or disability, all of which means people
treat you differently.
Then there are those like my friend.
He got The Big One, La Difference. Almost half the population did, one
way or the other. It's hard to imagine, for us "lucky ones". I can't
get my head around it. I can tell that it isn't really a bad thing, and
mostly they're done freaking out and well on the way to making peace
with the changes. Most of them have realized the other changes are
plenty big.
I answered the door. She was wearing a skirt that covered half her
calves, not real loose but definitely not tight, with a sweater. She
must have seen me glance at it, because she shrugged and said, "It's
comfortable."
"Come on in, man, it's good to see you." I'd already offered a Coke
before I realized what I'd said.
"Do you have Diet?" she asked.
I turned down the stereo a little so we could talk. That burned up a
few seconds. Another moment of silence beyond that was OK, but any
longer would get awkward, so I grabbed a deck of cards. She was
obviously relieved. "Yeah!"
We sat across from each other at a folding table. She crossed her
ankles. I offered her the deck. "Thanks," she said and shuffled, then
put it down for me to cut. I tapped it and leaned on my elbows, folding
hands under my chin. "What's the game?"
"Bullshit."
"All righty." She dealt, and we both looked at our hands.
I said, "A three," and placed a card face down. She had a poker face
on. A poker face with makeup. "Two sevens," she said.
"Already? Fine. A jack."
"Four. So, are you gonna ask?"
"Five. Ask what?"
"What it's like. Two." She smiled. "Again."
"Do you have an answer this time? Queen."
Her eyes flickered. "I'll give it a try. Seven."
"Bullshit."
"No, really." She folded her cards on the table. "Here, I'll make it
easy for you. I'll ask the first question. What's it like having
breasts?"
I glanced at her, away, back at her. Raised an eyebrow.
"The trouble with breasts is that they're always there. To a guy,
breasts exist when you think about them, notice them, see them. Not
when you're asleep, or cooking, or working at the computer, or driving,
or choosing clothes. They're always here, not really in the way but not
staying out of it either. Clothes can hold them or change the position
or kinda hide them, but they're always there."
"Um, hiding them with clothes? Not fooling anybody."
"You'd be surprised," she said. "Most of what you're seeing is the bra.
That's the shape, the firmness, whether there's nipple..." She noticed
I was starting to blush. "I'm learning about color and texture and what
they do."
"Less than girls think they do."
She bobbed her head slightly. "Yeah, I know, but I don't entirely
believe it anymore. Let's just say the girl point of view makes more
sense to me now."
"More than it used to, or more than the guy point of view?"
"Mm," she chuckled once. She tilted her head and bobbed an eyebrow.
She picked up her hand of cards.
"Two," she said.
"OK," I said. "Ace. What about your point of view?"
"What do you mean? Jack."
"Are all girls alike, or are you an individual?"
She stared at me. This is what I mean; she was so busy trying to figure
out "girl" that she wasn't looking at herself.
I asked, "Do you have any scars? Is your index finger as long as your
ring finger?" She looked at her hand. "Is your nose straight or
curved? Are your earlobes attached? I notice you haven't cut your
hair." Her hands moved to each spot as I asked, and I toyed with trying
to make her touch herself indiscreetly.
"Oh," she said, twirling a lock in her fingers, "I had it long a couple
years ago, so that isn't really weird. I figured it would take a long
time to grow back, so I'd better see if I liked it first."
"Do you?"
"Hm." She half-smiled, looking down at her cards.
"Do you wear the same makeup as Linda?"
She laughed. "God, she looks like a clown. He was a real man-whore; I
guess he translated pretty well. I put on too much, too bright colours,
a couple times at first, but if I was going to be out and about I only
put on what really seemed needed. I guess I've been seeing more needed
as time goes on." She licked her lips. "Also, putting on less means
less chance of smearing it."
"High heels?"
"You know, they're uncomfortable as hell, and awkward, but sometimes I
like the extra height, the extra poise. I stayed away from them at
first. They make me bounce more."
There was some more blushing at the table.
"Okay," I said. "How about people coming after you for things she did?
I always got that from my brother since we looked so much alike, but now
I'm getting mistaken identity against the jerk that got me."
"Um. One of her ex-boyfriends was unshifted and apparently never got
over her. He seems like an okay guy, but gggggggg." She shivered.
"Her driver's license doesn't look much like me, which is a pain." She
paused, seemed to come to a decision. "And the other thing she left
me..."
"Was?"
She sighed. "She posed nude. I found the pictures on her computer."
I couldn't name the expression I tried to hide, but I wasn't fast
enough.
"Oh my God," she said. "You're going to search for them."
"Did you recognize them when you saw?"
"What do you mean? Of course I--oh!" Her turn to blush. "Well, there
are a lot of sites, you know, and nobody uses real names..."
"Do you still look at the same sites?"
She looked up. "Didn't pull that punch, did you? Yeah, well, some.
It's different, but the same. I mean, a lot of the same things turn me
on. Sometimes for different reasons, in different ways, and sometimes
just because they always did. But..." she put her cards down again.
"Well, I changed, no way around it. I didn't suddenly become boy-crazy,
but I do notice guys. I notice shoulders, the way they walk. It's
because they're different from me. The unknown is interesting."
"But it isn't unknown for you."
"Thing is, it's hard to remember what it felt like when I'm feeling like
this. It's imagination, probably only a little better than what a born
girl could do. You see, being a girl is a whole-body thing. Imagining
a few different parts just doesn't work. They don't fit. And if you
try to imaging an entire different body, even if it used to be yours,
it's too much to do at once. Plus you're getting too much from your
current body."
"So you're gonna take the plunge."
"Eh? Oh. Yes, I'm sure sooner or later. But--" she looked at me--
"not with someone I know now, knew before. Too weird, too many
expectations. It would have to be somebody who only knows me as me."
"Why?"
"Because that's the only way I'd know how to act. You see, I've picked
up a lot of feminine mannerisms, a few behaviours and some attitudes.
It's because of all the social cues you get, from everybody. I'm a lot
more cognizant of the subtle approvals and disapprovals for everything I
do. Maybe it's being self-conscious because I changed, maybe the brain
is more attuned to it, and maybe girls just get a lot more expectations
put on them. But I think I'll know when I'm doing right."
"Weird," I said. "Letting society choose your identity."
"Oh, no, nothing like that," she said with reasonable sincerity. "Just
some guidelines. It only applies to the differences--there are a lot, I
admit. But I know how to drive, how to manage a budget, how to do my
job, the importance of family and friends, and generally how to live as
an adult. We're the same species, after all."
"A diverse species. A bee reads flower patterns in ultraviolet we don't
see."
"Jake would know all about that," she said. "Thanks for introducing
us."
Jake had been color-blind. His new body had all the rods and cones, and
it was a source of wonder to him.
"There's a guy busy noticing one detail and missing the rest," I
commented.
"He's an inspiration. Really makes you appreciate what you take for
granted. He can't go two evenings back to back without seeing a movie
or a laser show or an art gallery. I like to watch movies I've seen a
bunch of times with him. He makes it fresh."
I peered at her, then shook it off. "How about you? Still play?"
"The fingers don't know the moves, but they're agile enough. Gives me a
chance to relearn without some bad habits I had. But I'm much more
interested in the singing. She's got a good voice."
"You have a good voice."
"Thanks. It's a whole new set of inflections, the break is different--
falsetto doesn't feel like faking it, more like what my choir director
called it, 'head voice'. I'm listening to a lot of the singers I used
to like: Peggy Lee, Anne Murray, Judy Collins, Enya. It's pretty much
easier to sing along with rock 'n' roll, too. All those guys were
mutants."
I laughed with her. It's true. I could never sing along with Oldies in
a normal voice. Still can't.
She sang, "o/~ It's a whole new world o/~" then stopped and looked at
me. "So, I got all this new stuff, and you got... pretty much nothing?"
"I definitely notice the differences, but yeah, nothing like what you're
saying." The closest thing would be my difference down there. It was
longer than mine had been, but thinner. Looked weird. Fragile. Didn?t
belong.
She was watching me think. "You wish this had happened to you."
I froze. I gaped. I blushed. "Uhm, well--"
She waved her hand. "No, you don't, not really, but curiosity is
driving you crazy. I always wondered, maybe would have taken the chance
for a short experience, a few days maybe. But I wouldn't have chosen a
permanent change. And you wouldn't either. But it's kinda unfair that
you'll never know what it's like."
"Yeah," I swallowed. "And that was always true. But seeing that it's
possible does kinda make it more intense. It brings it to the
foreground."
"Who knows. As you say, now we know it's possible. Maybe someday you
will get the chance." She shrugged. "We play the hands we're dealt."
"And dress the part."
"That reminds me, I was going to ask. Did you ever cross-dress?" She
fixed me with a gaze.
"What?"
She shrugged. "It crossed my mind from time to time, but I never did.
You had sisters, so I thought maybe you'd had the opportunity."
"No. I admit I thought about it, but it was never really a big thing."
"It's funny," she said. "Some days I just feel like going all femmy.
I'll put on pink and lace and jewelry. Some days I'm a tomboy. Some
days I just don't care as long as it's comfortable. But those girly
days, I always feel like I'm getting away with something. Mischievous.
Not always. Sometimes I just kind of lose myself in a Care Bears
fantasy."
"You have got to be kidding me."
She flushed a little. "Maybe that's not the right way to say it. Maybe
that's not really what it is. But sometimes I can be this and sometimes
that. I'm a lot better with ambiguity than I was."
"Boy, I noticed."
She gave me a complicated expression, then glanced at the clock. "Uh
oh, I'd better be going." She'd called, finding herself near my
neighbourhood with an hour to spare. "It was good to see you. Thanks
for listening."
"It was an interesting conversation. Unexpected."
"Yeah, I guess I just finally felt like talking. There's not many
people I can just be me with, you know? Whoever I am. Sorry about
snubbing you, I mean, it's just..."
"'s okay," I said with a dismissive toss of my head. "You're hot, but
that doesn't mean there has to be anything like that."
"Wow," she said. "You're more mature than I was."
I stared at her for a moment. She stared back. The corner of her mouth
twitched. I couldn't help it. We both burst out laughing.
"Yeah, right!" we said in unison.
"Anyway, I'm sorry I've been distant. I promise we'll hang out like we
used to."
"Hey, we've all had a lot going on lately," I said. "I understand.
It's cool. But yeah, don't be a stranger."
"OK," she said. "I'll see you later."
"Bye." I waved her out, then closed the door and leaned against it.
God, I thought. That's a lot. A lot to think about. A lot of
reactions to sort out.
A lot of opportunity for growth.
Nanette
- 05.11.2022
- 11
- 0
