The Greatest Miracle of Life Chapter Two
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The Greatest Miracle Of Life, Chapter Three free porn video
The rest of that first Sunday was relatively uneventful. I watched
Desperate Housewives on TV, and found myself really enjoying the plot.
Whenever I could, I tried to pull myself back to Scott's interests,
which normally would include the Sunday night NBA game, but I just
couldn't do it. The magic was simply too powerful. So I finally gave
in. I munched on a salad, curled up on the couch, and pretty much
treated it like any other extremely bizarre bad sci-fi horror flick
Sunday evening.
Monday brought with it the start of a work week. Knowing that Stephanie
is in sales, or account management really, for a software company, I
prepared myself for taking on the task. Fortunately, given that Scott
was in product management for another technology company, it wasn't a
complete leap, and Stephanie's habits were quickly kicking into gear.
Waking up early, I dragged myself out of bed in the dark and wandered
into the bathroom. Any hope I had of waking up as Scott again '
verifying that this was all a crazy dream ' were quickly squashed as I
felt my breasts pressed against the mattress, felt my long hair brushing
against my neck, and, worst of all, felt the nausea building deep in my
stomach.
"Not again," I groaned to no one in particular as I rushed to the
toilet. Holding my hair in a makeshift pony tail with my right hand, I
proceeded to involuntarily purge the remnants of last night's dinner
from my body. Once the wave had passed, I stood up and washed my mouth
out. "I need to get some mints and put them in the bathroom," I thought
idly, turning on the shower.
Thus the routine began. Shower. Shave (potentially). Bra and panties
(simple white cotton again today). Hair, which was a chore given its
length and style ' I worked it for close to ten minutes with a brush and
blow dryer until I was satisfied with it. Make up again, which took
another 10 minutes to perfect. Finally, a smart grey skirt suit, white
blouse, and nylons. The grip of the nylons and the swishing sound of
the skirt made me feel decidedly feminine in a way I couldn't put into
words. Finally, I slid on a pair of black, low heel pumps that I knew
accented my calves.
"Jesus, what is happening to me?" I whispered to myself as I did a once
over in the mirror. I looked good 'pretty, I knew' even though inside I
was still battling the nausea and, again, my breasts were starting to
throb as my body prepared for the eventual birth of the baby.
Walking downstairs, I listened to the sound of my low heels clacking on
the floor, which only heightened my sense of femininity, and again I was
hit with a feeling of being a foreigner in a strange land. Like I was
at a costume party. I paused in the hallway between the stairwell and
the kitchen, mustering up the courage to continue. After all, other
than sitting in my kitchen yesterday afternoon with Amy, this was my
first foray into the outside world as a woman.
Before I could reconsider, I grabbed by purse off the bench next to the
garage door. I quickly surveyed the contents, and everything I expected
to be there was in fact there. Keys, wallet, lipstick, some receipts, a
tampon (won't need that, thank God!), and a few other miscellaneous
items. It looked right, so I grabbed the keys and stepped out to the
garage.
Looking at the champagne colored Lexus LX450, I thought back to when
Stephanie first brought it over to my and Jessica's house after she
bought it. She was so excited 'it was the first luxury car any of us
had ever owned' and she couldn't wait to share it with her friends. As
I thought about the memory, I had the disorienting sensation of
remembering the day from two different vantage points at the same time,
both from the eyes of Scott and from the eyes of Stephanie. "Good lord,
I'm going to be schizophrenic by the time that this is all done," I
thought with a sigh.
I sat in the car, opened the garage, and turned on the powerful engine.
The mirrors and seat were already set for my petite frame, as I
momentarily did relish the fact that I fit in the car so well ' the big
6'4" Scott would have been crammed in this small seat. I guess being a
woman did have some advantages after all.
The actual work day itself was nowhere near as stressful as I had
expected it to be, mainly because my 'Stephanie instincts', as I was
starting to think of them, were in full gear. I found myself working on
autopilot far more often than under my own control, responding to
questions as Stephanie surely would, reacting to conversations as a
normal 25 year old woman would, and engaging in tasks as an account
manager at her company would. No one noticed a difference as far as I
could tell. I was constantly shocked by changes to my own demeanor, my
own motions, my own vocabulary. Plus I couldn't help but notice a few
key differences that were, in all honesty, frustrating as hell.
First and foremost, everyone treated me differently. Having spent my
life as a tall and assertive man in the workplace, I was shocked and
immediately frustrated by the fact that people talked to me almost as if
I was a child. Particularly the men ' they used a different tone of
voice when speaking with me, and generally I felt that they were talking
down to me and not with me. Maybe I felt that way because they were
constantly moving their eyes between my face and my breasts. I found
myself continuously checking to insure that my blouse was buttoned and
that I didn't have a stain or something on my coat. It really made me
uncomfortable, and I felt like a twelve year old standing around a bunch
of adults. It didn't help that I found myself always looking wide eyed
at everyone, smiling a lot more than I ever did as Scott, and standing
or sitting with my back straight, which caused my chest to stick out
prominently. These were all unconscious motions that were apparently
part of Stephanie's outward appearance and demeanor, and I had therefore
inherited them in full. It didn't help people to take me serious as a
working man?er?woman.
My boss, a nice enough older guy who I had met a few times before as
Scott, had a constant playful attitude with me that I didn't see him
share with the men on the team. While he would wander into their
cubicles and talk about strategic initiatives surrounding their
accounts, his only banter with me had to do with the current plot line
from Brothers & Sisters ' yes, I had watched it last night ' and his
plans for his kids during their next holiday break. The difference was
immediately obvious and, as I said, it was pissing me off. When I
brought up an issue (that had popped in my head) with one of my biggest
clients, he just smiled and nodded, and said he was sure it would work
itself out.
Surprisingly, it wasn't only the men that treated me differently, it was
the women too. Whereas as Scott I would normally flirt playfully with
the women in my old office, as Stephanie I found that the women were
split into two camps: those that talked to me in a conspiratorial and
hushed tone and those that seemed to constantly be sizing me up and, at
times, scowl at me. It was downright bizarre. Julie Carlson, a cute
enough blonde in the marketing department, was constantly scurrying into
my cubicle to share a tidbit about what someone was wearing or what
someone had said or who was supposedly hooking up with who. As much as
I didn't want to, I couldn't help but enjoy the gossip, and I found
myself giggling in hushed tones when she told me little stories, as my
Stephanie instincts overrode my Scott desires. Other women, like Marian
the receptionist, wouldn't even look at me, instead just grunting quick
responses to the questions I often asked. My 'Stephanie memories' told
me that this was the status quo.
I twice found myself in the bathroom getting sick, although I hadn't
eaten anything more than half a muffin so there wasn't too much to come
up. I made sure that no one was in the bathroom so that I wouldn't give
away my secret. The baby was a little secret compared to my bigger
secret, but no one could peel back the onion that far. The spell would
prohibit it.
I won't bore you with all the sordid details, but it was a tough day
trying to adjust to this radically different environment. By noon I was
back in the ladies' room but this time I was sitting on the toilet with
the door shut and my head in my hands. This whole thing was just way
too overwhelming. I couldn't keep doing this, putting up this charade
even though my mind and body were forcing me to do so due to this stupid
spell. I couldn't stand this body, I couldn't stand these clothes,
which were so damn uncomfortable and constricting, and I couldn't stand
the way everyone was treating me. This simply wasn't me ' I was a guy,
for Christ's sake! I can't be here, sitting on a toilet in the woman's
bathroom, wearing a skirt and a blouse, feeling the nylons pressing
against my legs, worried that my tears were going to mess up my make up!
Jesus, I sure as hell couldn't have a baby!
After I regained my composure, I ate my lunch at my desk which consisted
of some carrot sticks with ranch dressing and an apple. It filled me up
and let me wrap up a few things that I knew needed caring for, but the
afternoon was free. Needing to get out of there, I told my boss that I
was meeting with a customer all afternoon and I hopped in my car. He
just smiled and waved his approval.
On the drive home I was stopped at a light when a good looking guy
pulled up in an Escalade. He was dark skinned with a slight five
o'clock shadow and black wavy hair. He had beautiful brown eyes. "Damn
it!" I thought, "I can't help it but I'm checking him out!" The guy
noticed my attentions and the next thing I knew he was rolling down his
window to try and talk with me. Fortunately, the light turned green and
I was able to slam the accelerator. I took the first left I could and
got away from the Escalade. For the rest of the ride home I made sure
to stare straight ahead and ignore everyone else.
When I got home, I sluffed off my clothes and put on a comfortable sweat
shirt and sweat pants. Good old Stephanie ' of course it was a pink
velvet-like material. She didn't own any other color, apparently. I
wandered over to the refrigerator, grabbed a pint of Chocolate Chunk ice
cream, and dug in. I tried calling Amy, but no joy.
I spent the rest of that second day pretty much watching trash TV '
Ellen, Oprah, and a brief stint with Judge Judy. Again, I couldn't help
it. I tried desperately to get into ESPN, to get some thread of my old
life back that I lost just two days ago, but no matter what I did I
couldn't get interested in all the meaningless banter about this player
or this team. I finally succumbed and fell back on talk TV, and,
speaking honestly, I found it a hell of a lot more interesting anyway.
At any rate, the ice cream and the TV allowed me ignore my plight, and
at about 7pm my phone rang. It was Pete. I froze.
In all honesty, I hadn't even realized that Pete and I hadn't talked
since yesterday morning when he was suddenly gone on this "business
trip". As I thought that, a random pre-programmed thought entered my
mind and I knew that it was by design?so that I could adjust a bit
before jumping into that pool. (Wow, Stephanie really thought this
through!) However, it was now game on. I took a deep breath.
"Hi, Sweetie," came Pete's familiar voice from the other side of the
line. "How you doin'?"
"I'm OK. How about you?" was my tentative reply. "How's Chicago?"
"Oh man, it's great. We're having a great time. Sorry I didn't call
yesterday, but our schedule was packed with meetings and then a big team
dinner."
"Oh. No problem. I've been real busy anyway. Amy came over
yesterday."
I couldn't believe how awkward this felt. I finally decided to just
blank my mind and let Stephanie take over I suddenly found myself
falling into a far more easy banter with Pete, talking about Chicago and
his friends from work (some of which Scott knew, some of which Scott
didn't, but all of who Stephanie knew and could even picture in my
mind). We talked about the house and few other things. I felt almost
disconnected from everything ' like I was floating above my body and
just watching myself interact on the phone. It was bizarre. Finally,
we wrapped up.
"OK, sweetie," Pete said, "I don't have much chance to talk, so I
probably won't be able to call you until Wednesday, and I'll be back
Thursday night. I love you."
"I love you too," I said automatically, thinking about what that really
meant. I never thought I would tell a man that I loved him. I actually
took my fingernails and pressed them to my face, as if I wanted to rip
off this mask. Except it wasn't a mask ' it was my face. My beautiful,
soft, makeup-enhanced face.
After I hung up, I sat back on the couch and got back into the TV.
Without even realizing it, I was casually rubbing my chest ' my breast.
Suddenly, my fingernail flicked my nipple and an electric shock rifled
through my body.
I came alert immediately. 'Wow, what was that?' I thought to myself. I
repeated the motion and felt the same effect. It was amazing. This led
to some exploration, and soon I found myself rubbing my crotch
delicately with my finger. The feelings were both foreign and amazing,
much warmer and more all-encompassing than anything I had ever
experienced as Scott. It was like an erotic pressure building up
throughout my body, with an incredible sensitivity focused on my
breasts, my thighs, and my crotch. As my finger entered me, a feeling
so foreign I couldn't find words to describe it, the intensity built
further. After about five minutes of continued exploration, my body
burst with an orgasm that made me squeal quickly, followed by a low
moan. My eyes were shut, but colors were shooting across my mind.
'My God, that was incredible,' I thought, sitting there with my hands
still on my body. 'Is that what it's like for a woman?' My body
continued to hum and I didn't want to move. Suddenly the doorbell rang,
which brought me out of my reverie.
Leaping up, I quickly worked to organize myself. I pulled my bra back
down, straightened my sweatshirt, and pulled up my pants. Oh man, this
is embarrassing! I shuffled to the door and opened it.
Amy was standing on the porch. "Hey," she said.
"Hey. How are you? What's up?" I said while stepping back from the
door, still very embarrassed but working hard to act casual.
Amy gave me an odd look and stepped inside. Walking down the hall
towards the kitchen, she said without turning around, "So, did you have
fun?"
I stopped. "Fun? What are you talking about?"
"Oh come on. Your face is flushed, your hair is a mess, and your
clothes are wrinkled! You don't think I'd notice?"
Ugh, I was busted. Might as well fess up. "Honestly, it was awesome.
I couldn't help it. I don't know where it came from ' it just
happened."
Pulling a glass from the cupboard and pouring a glass of water, Amy
laughed. "Yeah, I know what you're saying. Hell, it happens to me all
the time too. Hey, we're all human!"
"Yep, I guess you're right."
"So, the big question." She set down her glass and stared at me. "Was
it better?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, was it better as a guy or as a woman?"
I looked at her for a second and really thought about what she was
asking. "That's tough to say. It's such a different feeling that it's
hard to compare. It was such an internal sensation whereas Scott ' I
mean me ' I mean before ' it was such an external feeling. But it was
great."
"Yeah, Scott told me that he 'enhanced' your sexual feelings, so I
thought it might be remarkable." She made the quotes sign with her
fingers in the air when she said 'enhanced'.
"What are you talking about? You talked to Scott?"
"Yeah, we grabbed lunch today. He ' err, I mean Steph ' is doing
great. She's really having a good time with this. She said she loves
seeing life from the other side, and said that it's much easier getting
around and handling life as a guy than it is as a girl. She looked
really relaxed, and just said she's trying to make the most of all
this."
"I believe it," I mumbled, thinking of everything I experienced in the
last 36 hours. Amy handed me a glass of water.
"So, I got your message. What's going on? You sounded pretty upset."
I proceeded to unload on Amy about all the challenges I had been facing
over the course of the day. The morning sickness, the issues at the
office, the odd way people were treating me, the fact that whenever I
walked I felt off balance, the damn clothes that felt like a iron grip,
the shoes that pinched my feet, the fact I felt like a child again. I
must have talked for five minutes straight, with Amy doing nothing other
than nodding and occasionally making a sound of acknowledgement.
Finally, I stopped. It was incredible how much better it felt to get
that load off my oversized chest.
Amy looked at me. "See, you're learning the good and the bad about
womanhood, Scott. It's not always easy, but trust me, there are times
that you'll love it."
"Oh yeah? When?"
"Just wait. Wait until you're truly pampered by a guy ' taken care of
to a point where you feel so safe and secure. Wait until you truly feel
beautiful in every way, and you just know that you're stepping out into
the world in perfect condition, and all eyes are on you. Wait until you
spend some time with a close friend, getting to know them, sharing your
feelings at the deepest and most intimate level. Wait until you and
Pete?"
"Hold it! This isn't helping, Amy. That doesn't sound great at all.
Believe me ' I just want to be Scott again!"
Amy shook her head. "Well, I don't know what to tell you, but I don't
think that's possible, and I think you know that. Scott told me that it
can't be reversed. However, I think if you would just relax, you'll
come to realize that it's not all bad, and a lot of what you now think
is horrible will eventually become the good."
I sighed. "Yeah, I know. I swear, I'm trying. My mind tries to let me
feel normal, but it just isn't working. Maybe the magic isn't strong
enough. I don't know."
"Maybe you just haven't experienced how great life as a woman can be,"
Amy said in response.
"Yeah, whatever. I'm just going to start counting the days until I get
back to normal."
The conversation slowly turned to more detail around the day, with Amy
offering advice on how to handle certain situations, a discussion on
spring fashion trends, and even a discussion on what I was going to
serve at our dinner party this weekend. It was amazing how quickly my
mind would flip between 'Scott mode' and 'Stephanie mode'. After about
two hours and two glasses of wine for Amy, I felt dramatically better '
she was right about how nice it was to just sit and gab. I never
appreciated that as Scott. I thanked her for coming by, and she left.
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