The Life and Times of Bethany Clark Chapter 2 Twintuition
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The Life And Times Of Bethany Clark, Chapter 1 - Bethany free porn video
The Life and Times of Bethany Clark
written by LaMystika ([email protected])
Chapter 1 - Bethany
Damn it, I'm a nervous wreck.
That was pretty much the only thing running through my mind since my
lunch break. Where I had feelings of excitement and contentment earlier
today, they have since been replaced with nervousness, even as I was
driving home from work one Friday afternoon. I was constantly fidgeting
in my seat, trying to keep my seatbelt nestled in between my breasts as I
drove.
My brother is flying in today to visit me for our birthday.
It was a day that I have been looking forward to for a long time, but at
the same time, it was a day that I have been dreading. This was the
first time that I will celebrate a birthday with my twin brother since
our 21st one, and a lot of things have changed in the seven years since
then. My brother and I were now self sufficient, had very differing, yet
very successful careers (he a successful lawyer and myself a game
designer), and as a whole, we were pretty satisfied with the way that our
lives have gone. That rang far more true for me than my brother Will,
however, as I absolutely loathed my life seven years prior. My life felt
totally hollow, always alone even amongst friends, if you could really
call them that, since none of them truly knew me and realistically
wouldn't have called me a friend had they truly known the turmoil going
on in my head. My life felt completely empty, for the truth is that
seven years prior, I was a bitter, angry and isolated "man" (if you could
call me that) who, as several of my female acquaintances quickly pointed
out, seemed to hate the world and everything in it.
That's all in the past now. I need to stop thinking about it.
Finally arriving home, I let myself into my studio apartment, which I
rented out for not only the sake of saving money, but also to have more
money available to pay off all of the loans that I accumulated during
school. The apartment was hardly decorated in what one would call a
feminine manner, however: I had wall scrolls of video games and anime
covering my walls, as well as paintings of landscapes and other things
that I had done for school projects. I had a bookshelf filled with books
ranging from mystery to self-help, from manga to steamy romance novels.
My entertainment center housed a 30" high-definition TV, as well as a
Nintendo Wii perched beside it. A portrait of Bruce Lee hung in one
corner of the apartment, as well as a heavy bag, as I tried to practice
kickboxing every other day. Even though I was finally free to express
myself in the way that I've always wanted, even before I truly realized
it, I was never one to decorate my surroundings with a lot of pastel
colors, although I did have a few flowery things around the apartment. I
liked what I liked, and no one was going to sway my opinions on them.
Although several have tried, they have all failed.
I need to do something to calm myself down, I thought to myself. I'm
starting to think too much. That was a bad habit of mine.
I walked over to my bed and began to undress. It was casual Friday at
work, so I kept my work clothes simple. I took off my 2.5" black boots,
and the foot socks I wore underneath them. I pulled off my dark blue
bootcut jeans, and then whipped my long sleeved graphic t-shirt off over
my head. I was only wearing a plain black bra and a dark purple pair of
panties now, and I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror I
kept next to my closet, and a familiar chill came over my body. I loved
what was staring back at me. My long black hair, which I had recently
cut after growing it out for over 4 years yet was still long enough to
reach the center of my back, had been recently styled into big soft
curls, which cascaded down my head, almost like a waterfall, reaching
down just above my B cup breasts. My brown skin had a nice glow to it,
almost looking bronzed, and it felt so soft, and my 34 inch legs reached
all the way up to my firmly sculpted behind, which I then turned to get a
glimpse of. Turning back to face the mirror, a small giggle escaped my
lips once I spied the camel toe made by my tiny panties. It had been a
little over a year since I had my final surgery (it was an early
"birthday present" from the year prior), and although I thoroughly
enjoyed the final results of my journey into womanhood, the only thing I
have lamented was that I still have not been able to properly "test
drive" my new equipment outside of self maintenance.
Although, I opined, I never really used the "old equipment" either.
Damn, I'm going to be a 28 year old virgin.
Ugh, I was still very skittish about dating. My job offered me little
respite, though that was about as much about me being a workaholic as
much as anything else. I know what I liked and what I want in a
relationship, but I was deathly afraid of divulging my past to potential
suitors. I did however, hear the same thing from my girlfriends that I
did from guys in my old life; that my problem is that my standards are
too high. Or according to some people, that I even have standards to
begin with.
"Giiiirrrrrrrl," my friend Rachel said to me the last night I went
barhopping with my girlfriends, "you don't need to find Mr. Right... you
need to find Mr. Right Now."
Of course, Rachel was two steps shy of being falling down drunk at that
point in the night, but what she said to me did rent space in my mind.
Maybe my first time SHOULD be like a one night stand. Quick and
painless, and I can find out what I like and don't like before I find the
right one.
Ugh, my conscience is getting to me again. I can't believe I'm even
considering this. I need to get my mind off of it. My brother will be
here in a few hours, and I need to make sure that this place looks good.
With that, I got dressed in a white t-shirt and a pair of denim short
shorts and set about cleaning up my apartment. The work was surprisingly
exhausting, and before long I was on my back, on my bed, and I drifted
off to sleep.
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The buzzing of my cell phone suddenly woke me from my slumber. I
groggily sat up from my bed and checked the clock radio on my nightstand.
The time read 7 pm. The apartment was clean, though it was dark, so I
switched on the light on my nightstand. I was still a little sleepy, and
very hungry. I forced herself off my bed and shuffled over to the
kitchen and pulled out a frozen dinner from the freezer, as I was in no
mood to cook tonight. I already cleaned the dishes once today.
I set my meal in the microwave and set the timer, while laughing quietly
to myself at the fact that I was preparing to eat a Hungry Man dinner.
Maybe I should've marketed the Hungry Woman dinner? Nah, that's what
Lean Cuisine and stuff like that is for, I guess.
After I finished eating, I took my evening dose of hormones, then went
over to my desk and switched on my laptop. I checked my email to see if
my brother had emailed me since last night. He did not. I then trotted
off to the bathroom, stripped, bundled my hair up into a shower cap, and
turned on the shower. Steam began to fill the room before I stepped
inside and began to wash up. I loved the feel of the hot water on my
body and I took the time to lather up my naked body, while slowly running
my douche inside my vagina.
I still can't believe that this is really my body, I thought to myself.
I hope I never wake up.
Deep down, though, I knew I was no longer dreaming, even though it was
definitely something that was on my mind at all times. Until I was 19, I
wasn't even aware that there were even others like me, and knowing that
had helped me immensely; I was not alone. There were others with similar
stories, as well as stories of those who managed to turn it all around
and become their true selves.
I was so happy that I could finally add my own name to that list.
No more dysphoria, I thought to herself, and with the douche still inside
me, I said out loud, to no one in particular:
"My penis is dead. Long live my vagina."
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After washing up and shaving my legs, I brushed my teeth, rubbed lotion
on my body, and went to get dressed. I went to my underwear drawer and
pulled out a pair of black cotton panties, then put them on. I then put
on a black bra and adjusted it to properly support my breasts. After
that, I put on a pair of white ankle socks, blue low rise skinny jeans,
and then zipped up a pair of black scrunch boots with buckles over my
jeans.
Now I need a top.
Going over to my closet, I hemmed and hawed over what to wear; I didn't
want to wear anything that would draw unnecessary attention. Nothing low
cut, I kept telling myself. You don't want your big brother to think
you're a slut.
I finally settled on a purple v-neck top, with sleeves that reached my
elbows. Finally dressed, I sat down in front of my vanity mirror and put
on my evening makeup. A little foundation (which I hardly ever did after
I had my facial hair removed), a bit of bronzer, blush and eyeshadow,
then a touch of dark red lip gloss. After spraying a bit of perfume, I
was set for a nice evening with my twin brother.
I'll take him someplace nice to get something to eat. He'll appreciate
that.
Taking a quick moment to fix up my hair, I checked the time on my cell
phone. It read 8:17. I then dropped the phone in my purse. After
checking to make sure I had everything I needed in my purse, I shut off
the lights in my cozy apartment and headed out, locking the door behind
me.
Lesley
- 24.11.2021
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