Wishes Do Not Exisit, But You Always Have Choices! free porn video

Wishes don't exist, but you always have choices! Greetings to anyone that finds this journal/story. My name is Brandon. I will once again be a 20+ year old male living in Northern California, sorry for being cryptic but I will explain what I mean later. My wife and I have to sacrifice our memories of the events I am about to transcribe, so I am writing this letter and hoping it finds someone who believes me. I am leaving this letter to be a testament to all that has happened and a warning to all. I will try to start at the beginning. Monica and I had been the two kids that knew we were meant for each other since we first met in grade school. I of course showed it by wiping boogers on her, and she showed she cared by making sure the teacher knew of every prank I was ever involved in. It was true love, but of course high school was something entirely different. I did not suffer the awkward years like many of my peers, and therefore enjoyed some popularity and attention from the more matured girls. Monica on the other hand grew disproportionately. She looked like a pimpled freak through her freshman year of high school. I never dated her then, but I stayed friends with her because of how well she listened and gave subtle advice. The summer vacation between our freshman and sophomore year changed everything. She came back to high school with a slammin' body. She still only had B sized breasts, but nobody was complaining. I asked her out and we have been an item for 5 years now. This is where my story begins. "Wow, three more college review magazines. How much more do you want to know?" Monica asked. "You just don't get it do you. The wrong college could ruin the rest of my life. There is not much work out their anymore and most organizations have hundreds of overqualified applicants to choose from," I explained. "Then why didn't you go to college right out of high school like everyone else," Monica replied. "Wish I had," Brandon said under his breath. Times were hard in Lewiston, Ca. My dad was laid off, my mother was trying to finish her degree, and my little brother and sister were still in school. I had to take a job at the town's oil change shop and help out my family. I thought about joining the Air Force, but I could not bring myself to fight in a war that I did not believe in. Oil was not worth my life. Monica and I were engaged when everything went down hill. We have postponed our wedding plans since then and we both have taken on local jobs to help out as we can, but things are finally looking better. My mom finished nursing school and acquired a job at the hospital. The pay is pretty good, so my parents won't take the money I have been earning. Last month I applied for a college grant and won. I have 40K and all I have to do is pick a school. So far I have selected three that are within my budget. "Ok, I want to go and see Michigan Technological University," I stated. "Finally, but that school is in the middle of no where. I will go wherever you go, but what makes you want to go up there," Monica asked. "It is not the location that counts. They have one of the best Mechanical Engineering programs in the US, and when I compare quality to cost I cannot beat it," I replied. Monica seemed to warm up to the idea over time. I enticed her with the idea of awesome ski slopes and showed her pictures of the winter carnival statues. We were use to living on little money so it was easy to save the extra we had been giving to my family. We decided we needed at least 2K to drive to MTU and spend a week there. The 3 day trip up there and 3 day trip back would cost $65 per night for a hotel, $250 per day in gas, and $50 per day on food. Once up there we would only need $50 per day for a hotel and still just $50 per day on food. The next admission was not scheduled for another 3 months, but the university gave regular tours. In little time we had saved the money we needed and scheduled a tour with MTU. The three day drive up there was not that bad. Monica and I were great friends and she was still a fantastic listener. I loved to talk so it worked out well. We made hotel reservations 20 minutes south of MTU in a small town called Baraga. You might call it a big town when you compare to the rest of the cities in Upper Michigan. The place was very quiet and peaceful. At night you could see the hints of the northern lights and the stars seemed to be a thousand times brighter then they did back home. We unpacked the car and decided to go for a walk and enjoy the sunset. We took a walking tour of the town and ended up on a hill crest overlooking Lake Superior. The sunset was perfect, and I had finally found the moment I had been waiting for. "Monica, we have been through so much, and you have stayed by me this whole time. I want to quit waiting and get married. We keep saying we will marry when we have more money, or when everything settles down. I do not want to wait anymore. You are the love of my life," I confessed. "I.....don't know. You are changing so fast. I want a family and kids as soon as I get married. I just don't think you know me well enough. What makes you think you still want me or will still want me after you finish college," Monica asked? I sat beside her and tried to come up with the words that would reassure her. I had never been so certain in my life. Just as I was about to pour out my heart, a tin can fell from the sky and landed at our feet. We jumped back as it seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Monica seemed happy the falling can broke the moment and seized the opportunity to pick it up. She held the can out to examine it. When the can hit the ground it sounded hollow, much like the sound an empty soup can makes when it strikes something hard. This can, if you could call it that had an even surface all around. Even the flat ends seamlessly transitioned with the curved ends. It was a remarkable piece of craftsmanship. Monica passed it to me. It felt solid, but was incredibly light. It was a faded metallic grey color but had unique scratched in marks. It kind of looked like a child had taken a nail to it and was practicing its first letters. "What do you suppose it is," Monica asked? I again looked over the can. I started to fear that it might be a military weapon that accidentally fell off or part of something dangerous. "I don't know, but I think we should leave it alone," I said. "You don't want to take a risk on a metal can. If you cannot take a risk with something like this, how do you know I am worth the risk of marrying," Monica replied. I looked at her sweetly. She was right in some respects. The can did not feel warm or radiological. It did not blow up when it hit the ground, and, by feeling its weight, I don't think it contained enough mass to be anything dangerous. "Alright, I will prove it to you then," I said. With that I put the can in my jacket pocket and marched over to Monica and kissed her. When I released her from the kiss I looked at her eyes and was sure beyond a shadow of a doubt I wanted to marry her. We hiked back to the hotel room under the brightest night's sky you could have ever imagined. The moon and stars seemed so much more majestic on this night than they had on any other night I could remember. We got back to the room and Monica moved on me unexpectedly. I had just gotten my shoes off when she pushed me to the bed. I was thrilled. She did not even bother with our upper body clothing and simply pulled her panties off underneath her skirt and pulled my pants down. She moved over me and inserted my member inside her. I felt pressure and warmth from her wet vagina. A couple of pumps and I was all the way in. She started to work her hips back and forth, and moaned with each push. I was starting to get into it when the can in my jacket started to move. Yeah, I know.....weird. "Bang" The can exploded, and dust filled the room. Monica screamed and almost broke my penis and she rolled off me. I pulled my pants up and handed Monica the sheet to breathe through. If that can was a weapon and this is some kind of gas the sheet wasn't going to do any good, but it was all I could think of. Then the most peculiar thing happened. A man walked out of the dust, but then the dust seemed to swirl and become the man. "@?%#?, #~|& %@#," he said. We starred at him blankly. Monica was still quivering a bit. The man put a hand up and tried again. "Greetings meus amicitia," he said again. "We don't know what you are saying," I weakly said. "Ah, you speak English. Greetings, my friends," he hardily replied. "I am so glad I found someone, and so soon too. I must really be in luck. I only need to work with 6 more people and I am free, but I will not bother you with that. I am a life changer. Some people have called our kind genies, sprites, or djinns. You may call me Alex," he instructed. "Do we get 3 wishes," Monica blurted out. "Always with the three wishes, Hollywood has brainwashed everyone. Have you ever read any of the real stories involving our kind? You are very fortunate to have found someone as mild as I. Had you have awoken any of my sisters from their rest by having sex, they would have castrated you, Brandon and they would have made your vagina so small no adult man would ever be able to please you again," he preached. We both started to act more respectfully. I was starting to realize that we were not in charge here. Alex moved about the room and took in his surroundings. I watched him walk by and noticed I could see through him. He was just barely translucent, but at the same time appeared to be solid. Monica was not as impressed by Alex's speech as I was. She walked out from the covers of the bed with her lower half naked and snatched her panties off the floor. She then shamelessly pulled them back up and sat down on the end of the bed. "I want some wishes. You are trying to cheat us" Monica stated. "I thought we had gone over this. I don't grant wishes, and frankly if you give me any more attitude I will quit being nice. Now sit there and let me keep learning about you. I am only half way through your lives and I want to give you the best possible choices," Alex instructed. A few more awkward minutes passed by and Monica was fuming. The genie kept glancing at her and shaking his head. He looked up at me hopefully and then back down to Monica with a look of concern. He seemed frustrated, as if he could not figure her out. I wanted to tell him to quit trying. She was a girl after all, and I don't think there is a creature on earth capable of understanding a human female. "Alright I have made up my mind. I will give you two choices. Choice number 1, I will erase your memories of tonight's events and allow you to continue on like nothing ever happened. The two of you are meant to be together and will have a happy life together if you so choose. You will have your problems like most couples, but you have the opportunity to have a marriage that lasts a life time. Choice number 2, I will make you understand each other more intimately than any other person has before. This will be slightly difficult, but if you make this choice you will have less fights and live much happier lives. I tell you what, I will even be generous. Monica really wants her wishes. If you choose choice number 2 I will let you change 2 things about your partner's physical appearance," Alex said. I was worried about the whole thing. Alex had been very vague about choice number 2. I turned to Monica to talk to her and discus the whole thing, but before I could even ask her she was telling Alex our choice. "We choose option 2," she boldly stated. Alex smiled. "Very well, before we get to my part of the choice we will get to yours. Monica what would you like physically changed about Brandon," Alex asked I gulped. Monica could do anything to me. "I want his penis to grow to a size that is perfect for pleasuring me. It is too small to really satisfy me," Monica said. I was hurt at the statement, but that passed as I felt my penis pressing against my underwear. I pulled my underwear out and looked down. I was 8" long and it appeared as if I were about 2" wide now too. I looked up at Monica with a look of horror on my face. Not because of her wish, but because this being before us had serious power. We were nothing but pawns before him, and we just choose an option we knew nothing about. "It is done. Brandon, it is your turn. What would you like to physically change about Monica," Alex asked. I was still a little hurt that Monica insulted my manhood so I decided for some playful revenge. "I wish Monica had a 36DD bust," I said. The look on Monica's face was not what I expected. She almost looked pleased by my choice. Monica's breasts started to swell and strained against her bra. A second later her bra broke and her new boobs more then filled out her tank-top. "Most girls have to pay good money to go from a B to a D, but I get mine for free. Did you have to go DD though," Monica whined. "Monica, you have one more physical change to make to Brandon. What would you like to change," Alex asked. "I want Brandon to be ripped. He is already tall, and tan. I want him muscular like the underwear models in my magazines," Monica said. "How very shallow of you," Alex antagonized. This time I did not notice the change. My clothing was already loose, so the expansion in my chest, arms, and legs were unnoticed. Monica's jaw dropped when she saw me. I turned to look in the mirror and was very happy with what I saw. I had always had larger arms, but the rest of my body was chiseled perfection. I did not wait for Alex to ask me and returned the kindness back to Monica. "I want Monica to have a perfectly tone and fit body," I rushed. Alex smiled at me and was happy I was not wasting his time. Monica's body did not expand like mine. Her waist and hips shrunk. Her butt tightened up. Her boobs seemed to perk up as well. She had a beautiful hour glass shape. I was stunned at how beautiful she looked. "Wow, we should have been working out all along," I joked. "I have kept my end of the bargain are you ready for my final piece? The last choices you made are permanent. Monica your body will have DD breasts and your body will remain toned for the rest of you life. Brandon your body will have a large penis and your body will be muscular for the rest of your life. The last portion will only last as long as you make it last. Brandon and Monica I have revelations to make to both of you. Monica you are insecure and believe that Brandon is going to leave you for a smart college girl. You are afraid to commit to him. Brandon you take Monica for granted. You do not address her needs for a family and even though you are sincere you do not really know Monica. So my gift to you as you have chosen it is; you will switch bodies till you fully understand each other. Brandon you will remain in Monica's body until you understand her insecurities and her needs for a family. Monica you will remain as Brandon until you understand his need for a marriage and his drive to be the bread winner for his family," Alex said in a voice that overpowered everything else. The room suddenly got dark. I woke up to the phone rings. The front desk was making our wakeup call so we could shower and get ready for the tour at MTU. I could not believe the dream I had just had. I rolled to the side of bed and put my feet on the floor. As I stood up I felt a huge weight on my chest. The weight felt odd and pulled on the skin on my chest while at the same time if felt fluid and natural. My chest, through my shirt if you can imagine that, responded to the cool air in the room and sent a cruel shiver to my core. "What is wrong with me," I thought to myself. My eyes were still cloudy with sleep, and out of instinct I reached up, and to my dismay grabbed two handfuls of DD breasts. I could not believe it. It was not a dream. I felt my heart pounding and I began hyperventilating. For those of you who have to imagine what this was like don't try. My nipples were erect and sticking out a quarter of an inch. The worst part of it all was that groping my unexpected breasts kind of turned me on. Monica in my body was still sleeping. She....well he now use to always sleep through the alarms. I glanced at the clock and saw that we still had 2 hours till we needed to be at the visitor's office. This was good because I needed some time to process the situation. I decided not to wake Monica up yet and try to get grip on reality. This sort of thing does not happen. Maybe I am loosing my mind. I reached up and brushed my brown hair back behind my ears. This is too real; I cannot be making this up. I leaned forward to walk and had to catch my self on the chair across from me. These boobs were heavy and my center of gravity was much higher now. I had to walk with my posture slightly straighter then I was use to, which put a lot of pain the small of my back. I tried again and found my center. As I walked to the bathroom my hips egregiously swung back and forth, while my boobs bounced a full 2 inches in what ever direction they wanted. I tried to control my hips from swaying, but my body was only built to walk in a feminine way. My legs felt so much further apart and my feet were so much smaller. My new waste was much larger then I was use to. With each step I expected to feel my scrotum rub against the inside of my leg, but to my dismay I felt nothing. I was still turned on from grabbing my chest, but there wasn't the urgency of an erection. My smooth crotch felt warm, and the stir of sexual energy seemed to hide within me. I walked into the bathroom and quietly shut the door behind me. I looked in the mirror and saw the impossible. I was in Monica's beautiful body. I could see the leftover makeup from last night crusting off my face, and I could feel the battered bra my breasts destroyed. I took off my tank-top and let the broken bra fall to the floor. I then took a wash cloth from the sink and cleaned off my make up. I could not believe how such a simple task like scrubbing my face with a wash cloth would make my boobs jiggle and move. My underwear was very loose, but unlike a guy loose underwear on my female body felt wrong. Just walking to the bathroom managed to make most of the excess cloth ride up my ass. Monica was not a heavy girl by any stretch of the imagination, but she had put on a few pounds since high school. All of that was gone now. My butt was perfectly toned and tight. Consequently my medium size panties were not fitting like they should. I pulled them off and stood naked before the mirror. The mirror was only above the sink so I really did not get to see much down below. When I tried to look down at my vagina all I got to see were the DD boobs and a slight view between a valley of cleavage, of which I so willingly wished for. I was extremely mad at him right now. This was entirely his fault. Monica made me keep the can when I wanted to leave it. Monica picked option 2 without even talking to me about it. Alex could read my mind. Why did he let him do this to me? I took a couple of deep breaths and calmed down, which only made my breasts move more. The site before me was bittersweet glory. It was the Lord of all teases. Monica's body was hotter then it had ever been before. The only part of her body that wasn't tan was a triangle patch over each breast a bikini cut tan line over my waste, vagina, and butt. I could control this super hot body and make it do whatever I wanted, and yet the only thing I wanted to do to it I was no longer equipped to do. I heard Monica stir a little. I only had 10 more minutes and he was going to wake up. I started to collect my clothes. As I bent over to grab my panties I felt pressure on my bladder. I needed to pee. The toilet was like any other toilet I had ever seen, but it looked so foreign right now. I put the seat down and laughed to myself. I felt undignified, like I was being humiliated. This was entirely unfair. I grudgingly sat down on the toilet and released the muscles I felt holding the urine back. A stream of urine left my vagina. I was intrigued. I did not know women actually had a little push behind it. There was also a high pitch noise that accompanied my urination as I pushed it out. I thought women just released and gravity did the work, but there was a little more control then that. I finished peeing and wiped up. Curiosity was getting the better part of me after wiping. I knew I would have to wash my hands thoroughly after this, but I wanted to know the extent of the genie's damage. I slid my lotion soft feminine fingers down past my naval toward my nether region. My fingers felt nothing but hairless smooth skin all the way down to my thatch. I had to be careful to keep my half inch long manicured nails from scratching my new sex. Between my legs I found neatly trimmed pubic hair, which varied greatly from the mass of mangled pubic hair I use to possess. I could feel the bumps around the outside where Monica had shaved her bikini region. They were subtle bumps, but thanks to my boobs I could not see it. I slid my fingers down an inch further and found folds of skin which ever so slightly protruded from crotch. I was familiar with the folds of skin because they looked like a camel's toe when clothing was pulled up tight against it. The top of the folds fluidly followed my new sex all the way down to the bottom of my vagina where the skin bunched together. I gulped. My vagina, I thought. With a deep breathe I traced the ring of skin around my vagina. It tickled slightly. I felt excitement and sexual energy build up inside me from somewhere foreign. My nipples started to harden too. It was different from the cold air and I could feel them tighten. I instantly realized what I was doing to Monica's body and stopped. I took a few more cleansing breathes grabbed my pink tank-top and white floral patterned panties from the floor. My panties, I thought. I put my pink tank-top on carefully stretching it over my boobs. The material felt softer then one my shirts, but strangely harsh on my nipples. Unlike one of my shirts, the tank-top was tight exposing all of my curves and being low cut showed off the top of my boobs as well. I gave one last look in the mirror to see my nipples protruding from underneath my shirt. My hair was an unmanaged mess, but the rest of my figure was to die for. I wish I was in my body right now. I would screw you till the sunset, I thought. On the other hand, I wonder what it feels like to be screwed instead of doing the screwing. Damn you Monica and your leap first look second attitude. I felt so frightened and powerless. I was extremely turned on, but I did not have an erection. I did not know what to do with myself so I stopped thinking about it. I put my underwear back on and walked out to wake up Monica. This was going to be a surprise. As I walked to the bed I felt wetness between the folds of my vagina. The two sides of my vagina seemed to slide ever so much between each step. It did not do this when I had first woken up. It felt slippery, moist, and warmer inside. This mystery had to wait. I pushed the thoughts from my head. I need to wake Monica up or we were going to be late. I have waited on my dreams for too long to let something like this keep me from them. Monica stirred as I pushed on his side trying to wake him up. Monica finally came to and screamed when he saw me. I fell over backwards and landed hard on my butt. Monica threw the covers and fell off the other side of the bed. I stood up feeling annoyed, but understanding. Monica slowly looked over the bed at me. He could not believe his eyes. "Brandon......is that you? That wasn't a dream last night," Monica asked. "Yes it is me, and no it was not a dream. Thanks for picking option 2. I have been awake for a half hour now and trust me this is really difficult to deal with, but our tour starts soon so we need to just deal with this for a couple of hours and then we can start to panic," I said with a hint of cynicism. "....ooo......ooo...ok," Monica squeaked out. Monica spent the next ten minutes feeling his new body and glanced at me every now and then let out a small laugh. I was picking through Monica's, I mean my clothes looking for something presentable to wear during the tour. I had already picked out Brandon's clothes. "Get in the shower and I will pick out something for you to wear. Here are my, I mean your toiletries. I will leave the clothes on the bed for you," Monica instructed. "Ok, but your body is smaller then before and your underwear doesn't really fit right. It keeps riding up my ass. Do you have a smaller pair? Oh, and what am I going to do about your boobs," I admitted. "Just get in the shower and don't forget to shave," Monica replied. I took the small pack of toiletries into the bathroom and started the shower. I unpacked the small bag while the water got hot. I had a Venus razor, some Bath and Body Works lotion soap that smelled like apples, a luffa sponge, sun ripened raspberry body lotion, and Fruitis shampoo and conditioner. I put the soap, razor, shampoo, and conditioner in the shower. The water was finally the correct temperature. I stepped out of my clothes and stepped in. The feeling of water running down my feminine body really brought reality to the forefront. I could feel each bead of water run over regions of my female body I should not have. My brain was processing each feeling as a shock. My hands were shaking so much I had a very hard time trying to lather up the luffa to wash. Washing was not much easier. The luffa felt incredibly harsh on my breasts and I loathed washing around my vagina. I was however careful not to let the soap enter my vagina. I remembered a time in the past when Monica had a bad urinary tract infection due to that. The strange thing, to me anyway, was not having any hair on my face and nothing but peach fuzz on my arms, chest and back. My legs felt harsh though as I bent down to wash them. The little hairs that had grown since the last shaving caught on the luffa which made it difficult to wash them. The most annoying thing about washing my legs was how gravity pulled my boobs down and they swung all over as I adjusted to see what I was doing. I grabbed the razor and started at my feet and worked my way up. I was surprised that with nothing but soap lather, I could easily shave. My face would be razor burned and cut to ribbons if I tried to shave with out shave gel or shaving cream. I finished all the way up to my bikini line without any cuts. I did a little landscaping around my pubic region, and set the razor down. I continued to wash until I reached my pits. I then realized that I had a little bit more shaving to due. My pits were not any more difficult to shave, but my enormous breasts did not help. I finished washing my body and started on my hair. It took me at least 5 minutes of running my fingers through my hair in the shower just to get all of my hair wet. As I did, I felt a great strain on my neck. My hair was going to be a pain. I took a generous portion of shampoo and worked it into my hair. No surprise it took just as long to rinse the soap out. I then took the conditioner and finished. As I finished rinsing I heard Monica enter the bathroom. "I am leaving you a top with a built in bra and some underwear by the sink. Please don't use the blow dryer on your hair or you will have hair that belongs in the 80s. Just use a separate towel and I will help you brush and style it. I will also help you with your makeup. Please hurry up, I need to shower too," Monica said. She left before I could tell her I was almost done. I was at an impasse. Monica needed the shower to get ready, but I wanted to know more about my body. I decided that my needs come first. I set the bottles of shampoo and soap out of the shower so I did not accidentally knock them over with my extracurricular activities. I adjusted the water to make it as hot as I could stand and let it spray my chest. My nipples loved the warm water dancing over them. I then slid my delicate hand between my legs and started to work up toward my crotch. I was trembling with excitement. My soft hands traveled up the smooth soft skin on my inner thighs. I met my vagina and applied pressure with the highest of expectations. The pressure did nothing for me down low, but at the top of my vagina I started to feel something. I started rubbing up and down and pausing to make circles. I tangled the top of my pubic hair in knots, which hurt, but I quickly found the right way to do it. I could tell I was stimulating my clit. I slid my index finger between my folds and pinned my clit down. The response my body gave me was overpowering. It felt like my penis did after I came. It was far too sensitive. I backed off and started to rub from the outside again. The pleasure kept building, but nothing earth shattering. It was like getting a hand job without the climax. Within minutes I had fizzled out. I was still rubbing myself, but the pleasure was leaving me. I was very unimpressed. It seems I only have a small window of opportunity to get the job done. "Maybe that's why girls don't climax all the time", I thought. I had one last thing to try. I took my index finger and pushed it inside me. It was pleasurably filling at first with hints of true bliss, but became quickly painful. I had completely forgotten that Monica and I were having sex before Alex interrupted us. Monica's vagina was still very tender from last nights attempt at fun. She had warned me that when we play it rough and go at each other with lust she usually hurts the next day. I pulled my finger out with disappointment and frustration. I finished rinsing and turned off the shower. Monica had placed a second towel on the rack outside the shower for my hair. I ran the towel through my hair and piled it all on my head. I then wrapped the towel around my head like I had seen Monica do before. Using the second towel I tried to run it over my body in a hurry like I use to in my old body, but it hurt. My legs were sensitive due to shaving and my nipples, to my greatest regret, liked nothing but the softest fabric to touch them. I looked up and saw that Monica had set out my toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, and some perfume. I finished padding myself dry and applied some deodorant. It smelled very strongly of lavender, but stung slightly from the shaving. For the first time, I basked in the scent. It made me feel pretty. I snapped out of it. Where did that feeling come from, I thought. I grabbed the bottle of lotion and liberally applied it to my legs, hands, and arms. Once again I got lost in the scent. I picked up Monica's now my toothbrush and looked at it with distain. Your mouth is something that is very personal and what goes in it is just as personal. I know this toothbrush was the one put in the mouth I now possessed, but it still felt wrong. I gave up trying to find justification and brushed my teeth. I was amazed how much smaller my mouth was and how difficult it was to properly brush my molars. Time was starting to become an issue so I started looking for my underwear. I picked up the top with the built in bra and underneath it was an impossibly small piece of elastic fabric with a v shaped patch of soft cotton on the front. It was a tiny dark blue thong with extravagant lace, which was made by Victoria's Secret. I once again detested the situation I was in. Monica pounded on the door. I wanted to scream at him and tell him every foul word I ever knew. After calming down, I decided I did not have time to argue over what I was wearing and picked up the thong as if it were toxic. It looked like the bottoms to Monica's teddy set. It took me a second to untangle it and bending over to pull it up my legs made my boobs swing and bounce in a most uncomfortable way. I pulled the thong up and felt the fabric pull tight against my vagina and over my asshole as it slid up my butt crack. I felt the elastic fabric hold tight against my hips, and for a second I felt sexy, powerful, and attractive, but that passed when I bent over stretching the thong up my ass. "At least it's only a string," I thought. I let my hair down from the towel and shook it out. I grabbed the white tank-top with lace trim and a built in bra. I pulled it over my head and carefully placed my boobs inside the elastic fabric at the top. The elastic band pushed my boobs together and offered some support, but not nearly enough. My nipples showed right through it too. The lace on the top tickled the top of my breasts, but really enhanced the look of my cleavage. I bent down to catch a glimpse in the mirror. "There isn't a straight guy within a hundred miles who won't be staring at this, but little do they know who I really am," I thought. I walked out of the bathroom and Monica went right past me inside. The teepee in his pants looked straining and painful. Monica had some personal adjusting to do as well. I laughed to myself and began searching for my clothes. The bed had a white blouse and a black skirt lying out. There was also a pair of black panty hose and some black strappy heels at the foot of the bed. Thankfully the heels looked to be only an inch tall and wide. I could hear Monica cursing to himself as he undressed and stepped into the shower. Yeah right, like you have got it back, I mumbled under my breath. He was obviously no more pleased with our predicament then I was, but what did he have to complain about. Every step I took toward the bed made my boobs jiggle like before, but only this time I could feel the thong riding further up my butt. The elastic straps holding the thong up would stretch and release as my hips swayed with each step. I put it all out of my mind and grabbed the panty hose. I rolled them up in my hands, and then rolled them up my legs. I wasn't dumb when it came to understanding how women dressed. Watching movies and Monica get dressed had given me a basic enough education on women's clothing. Besides, I had undressed Monica at least a hundred times. I grabbed the skirt next. Monica use to have a really difficult time fastening the clasp on this skirt, but I was able to do it easily and found that the skirt settled an inch lower then before. I had certainly lost some weight, I thought. I turned the skirt to the back so the slit on the side would match my stride. I put on the blouse that I had seen Monica wear several times to church. I fought to get it buttoned around my boobs, and even after it was buttoned I wasn't sure they would hold the whole day. I did have a bit of a problem. The skirt was lower and thanks to the size of my bust the blouse could no longer cover my entire torso. I had about an inch of midriff showing. It looked great from the front, but my thong was showing in the back. I needed a remedy, but time was fleeting. We only had 30 minutes to leave if we were going to make it on time. I decided to compromise and hope that no body looked at my butt.....oh how na?ve I was. As I put my shoes on, Monica came out of the shower. I took his suit off the hanger and handed it to him. As I watched Monica's rippling muscles, I felt myself getting flustered, but this time I could not push the thoughts out of my head. I felt a need inside me. I wanted to be touched, held, and even filled. I felt my nipples harden and my crotch get moist. My heart rate started to increase, and I could once again feel energy building from deep inside me. "Ok, I am ready. Let's get you fixed up. Sit in this chair here and I will get you ready," Monica instructed. The next 5 minutes were painful as Monica brushed out the tangles in my hair. He kept telling me I had to learn how to dry my hair or I was going to hate brushing it. Monica finished brushing and grabbed a curling iron I did not even know was there. He must have plugged it in while I was in the shower. After a couple of minutes of curling and some hair spray I was told my hair looked good. Monica quickly started on my makeup. I could feel pastes, creams, and powders being applied to my lips, cheeks, and eye lids. The mascara was not fun and it constantly felt like something was in my eyes. Without, slowing down Monica took the perfume I avoided in the bathroom and sprayed a pump on my chest. I was overpowered by the floral smell. "Just give it a couple of minutes. It is intense at first, but smells great all day long after that. Just so you know, you look hot," Monica said. I felt elated by the comment. I stood up and doing the best I could in my heels walked to the bathroom mirror. I really did look hot. My hair was slightly curled on the ends and a couple of tendrils had been separated out and curled down the sides of my face. My hoop earrings which Monica fastened to my ears were uncomfortable but really finished off the look. My lips were a pale pink shade, which contrasted greatly with the dark purple eye shadow I was wearing. The contrast caused me to focus on my eyes and hid most of my imperfections. The perfume smell was starting to subside and I started to gain a little self confidence. The only part I could not get over was my thong showing and my boobs looking like they were going to burst forth from my blouse. I looked like a cross between a street hooker and a girl going to church. Monica put his jacket on and grabbed my leather coat. He held it out for me and I put it on. "I am ready to go. I got my wallet, oh, don't forget your purse. Just grab you ID, a little cash, the credit card, and some emergency feminine products and put them in your small purse on the bed," Monica asked. On the bed was a small black purse with a long string for wearing it on my shoulder. I moved over to the zipper front of my suit case and started to take out my ID. While fishing around my hand bumped into something soft but it had a plastic sticker thing attached to its back. I pulled it out and found myself holding a light day sanitary napkin. I looked at Monica with a horrified expression; as I placed them in my purse. Monica just stared back like I should have expected this. The moment passed when we saw the time and we rushed out to the car. It was a chilly morning in April, but the fresh air was extremely inviting. Monica helped me into the car as I struggled with my reduced dexterity. The skirt combined with the extremely tight blouse was making life pretty difficult for me. I flashed my panties to an eight year old boy as I got in the car. We drove to MTU in silence. Both of us were trying to calm ourselves and fixate on the tour. I glanced over to see that Monica was sporting a massive erection he could not control. Consequently he was suffering from some reduced mobility and embarrassment as well. We parked the car at the visitor center and were greeted as we walked inside. A tour guide introduced himself as Hema from India, and to my surprise he spoke very good English. Hema had been at MTU for 6 years and was working on his Doctorate in Applied Sciences. We were taken through many buildings, and we were taught about the history of MTU. I remember sparse pieces about a mining town that started a mining college. My attention was mostly on my body. As I walked I could feel the cold wind nip at my freshly shaven legs through my panty hose. With each hard strike of my heels I felt my boobs bounce. My nipples would rub against the fabric and if I paid attention to it, I could get some pleasure from it. My thong was not as annoying as I thought it would be. I liked the fabric tight against my vagina, and did not mind the small amount of fabric up my crack once it had settled. I thought about my hair and how the wind made it blow in my face from time to time. I had to brush it back when it tickled my nose and blocked my site. The straps of my tank-top pulled slightly on my shoulders, and the built-in bra kept a comforting, yet weak, grip on my boobs. My breasts were far from having the support they needed, but this was all I currently had. I was wishing I hadn't left my leather coat in the car. I was getting a lot of looks from the students. The few girls I saw gave me looks of distain and loathing. I had no idea why they were so mad at me, but I definitely felt like I was doing something wrong. I noticed a lot of the male students on campus staring at my back side, and as they passed the took a deep inhale of the perfumed air behind me. I laughed, if only these guys new I was really guys. I wonder if I can still consider myself a guy, I thought. Monica held my hand for support and to show ownership amongst the other men. Monica would stand between me and any guy who tried to approach me, and would constantly pull me close to embrace me with a hug. I could not believe how territorial he was being, but despite being treated like property I enjoyed it. We finished the tour and broke off into smaller groups to meet with a representative of the educational program we wished to partake. We were led to the building that is oddly enough shaped like a brick penis. They called it the MEEM (Mechanical Engineering, Engineering Mechanics) building. On the 4th floor we were put in a waiting room and found each other smiling. We both were embarrassed by the situation, but we were both accepting our helplessness to rectify the situation. Our turn came up and I played the role of the overprotective girlfriend and asked most of the questions. I could not believe the voice that came out of my mouth was mine. I kept clearing my throat. Girls do not sound naturally authoritative. My mind kept telling me my voice cracked. The department representative did not seem to notice. The interview went as well and as the mechanical engineering representative shook Monica's hand he told us that he looked forward to having him here. I sighed, and was relived we pulled the whole thing off. We walked back to the car and had the whole week to ourselves now to explore the area and our new bodies. "What do you want to do first," I asked spreading my legs in a very un- lady like way. "We need clothing that fits, but we need it to be cheap. Straighten up too. Your making me look like a slut," Monica replied. "Alright, stop right there. I am wearing a thong that is riding up my ass when I sit down. I am use to sitting with my legs apart. My boobs are bouncing all over the place and it is your fault I am in this mess," I exclaimed. "I know that I may have had a bigger part in this, but there is nothing I can do about it now. You wished for the bigger boobs, but I understand you need clothing that fits. So I am going to ask this once and then we are going to drop it. Do you forgive me," Monica asked. "Yes, but can you at least be nicer to me," I asked. "Deal, but please do as I ask. You will find being a girl can be a lot of fun too," Monica replied We drove down city limits and found a ShopKo where we stopped and decided to start there. We both knew Wal-Mart was cheaper but there were far less people here and we needed some privacy. "I need to explain some things before we start. Don't buy anything except underwear without trying it on. Buy the cheapest underwear they have, and move on. I still have my, I mean, your old clothes from high school, so we just need enough to get by. With that being said, you will need bras, because nothing I had in high school has a chance there. Why don't you go shopping for underwear, tank-tops, and pants? All I need are pants, so I will try some on, and buy a couple pair. I will find you near the girl's dressing room, and then I will start handing you some different bras to try on. Be picky, bras are expensive and an uncomfortable one will haunt you all day," Monica said. "I understand that. This tank top isn't doing a damn thing," I replied holding back the urge to yell at Monica again. We separated and I went to the women clothing area. It felt naughty to be walking through the isles of bras and panties. Some of them were so flashy like they were never meant to be covered up. As I walked down the isle I found the Hanes underwear display and looked at the prices, but right next to it was a pyramid style display of novelty panties. A sale sign hung over the top that said 3 pair for $4.99. It was the best deal in the area. I started to pick through them feeling dirty, like at any moment someone was going to ask me to leave for being a pervert. The panties were supposed to be arranged by size, but they were all mixed up. I found several different styles of underwear. Just because a pair of panties was bikini or thong cut did not mean they were the same. The straps that hugged the waist could be part of the material that made up the front or it could just be a piece of elastic string. The amount of material and the thickness of the material in the front varied from pair to pair. Some of the panties were see through and did not look to offer any protection against leaks at all. The boy cut style looked like they were designed to cram as much fabric up a girls ass crack as possible, but having never worn a pair before I cannot truly say. I found several pair that I thought looked alright, but as I was wearing a thong already, I was hoping for something that was less.......sexy. I was trying to come to grips with the fact that I was a girl and that meant going into the girl's changing room and bathroom. I had to snap out of it. I managed to find two thongs that looked plain enough and one bikini cut pair. The bikini cut looked very similar to pair of tighty whites, but without the sleeve in the front for a penis to be taken out from. I was happy I found the bikini cut panties, but even after looking at them their was no way they were ever going to feel like anything I was use to wearing as a guy. One of the thongs I found had a dangling jewel sewn into the front, and had two thin straps on each side that connected to a triangle of strings in the back. It was very revealing, but for some reason the sex appeal of it drew me in. It wasn't like I had too many options. There were few pairs of panties small enough to fit me. Almost all of the panties I found that fit were shades of pink or purple. The white ones had pink decorations and I was feeling humiliated again. Why do girls have to wear such intimate undergarments, I asked myself. I left the underwear display and started to browse as I waited for Monica. I had been shopping for girls clothing a hundred times or more, but never had I seen the store like this. Part of me was excited at all the possibilities, but part of me was very frightened. I walked through the lingerie section, but rather then glance at the models in the pictures and imagine having sex with them; I looked over the corsets, teddies, and sleepwear. I tried to imagine what it would be like to wear them, and if it was something I would like. The appeal was how sexy they made me feel. It was mind boggling how my new feminine form was affecting my judgment. The basic soft fleece pants looked inviting, but not very sexy. I still looked at them longing for the warms and security they would provide. A white corset looked very playful and had panty hose that came with it. A satin g-string came with the set as well as a separate pair of panties that were crotchless, or maybe it was just a lacy belt, but it had straps that dangled off and connected to the panty hose. It would take a girl 5 minutes or more to put all that on. I wonder if it was comfortable to wear. My mind fought against my feelings, but I could feel a deep sexual animal down inside me screaming to be let out. I wanted to know what it felt like to have my vagina rubbed through that material. I started to breath heavy as I touched the silk hanging down from a crimson red teddy next to the corset display. The buttons on my blouse strained against my breasts with each deep breath. So soft, I thought. My hormones were dominating me. I turned away and found respite when I spotted the t-shirt and tank-top display across the isle. My heart was racing, and my skin felt hot. I quickly walked away from the lingerie, but once again experienced a wet slippery feeling between my legs. I don't know what came over me, but I don't think I have the willpower to control the power of the female sex drive, and I use to think women did not have an active sex drive. I half expected to find typical shirts like I was use to, but in girly colors. Most of the shirts were low cut with very short sleeves (if they had any), and made of a slightly elastic fabric that would cling to you. I sighed, I missed being a guy. "There you are. Did you find some panties," Monica asked out loud. "Shhhhhhh, don't be so loud. People can hear you," I replied. "You are a girl silly. There is nothing to be ashamed about buying panties," Monica said with a laugh. Two grade school girls walked by giggling from our conversation. I blushed. Monica was right, however. I am a girl with big breasted, female needs, and desires. I really had to just accept the current situation. I was in a skirt, wearing panty hose, fully dolled up in makeup, walking in heels (of which I had adapted so well to I had forgotten I was wearing them), with freshly shaved legs and pits, smelling of girly lotion, deodorant, and perfume. I was wearing a tank-top with a built in bra, I had one inch hoop earrings dangling from my ears, and my hair was done up with light curls. I was in every way female. I at that moment had an epiphany. My mind does not determine my sex nor does it play any part in it. I can function as a girl as well as I can function as a man. I took a few deep breathes and let Monica lead me to the tops. In a short time, Monica had picked out some very feminine, low cut shirts that would cover my boobs and my midriff, but still look cute. He handed them to me so I could try them on in the dressing room. We then walked up to the bras. I once again felt uneasy, but I was able to reason my way through it. The only problem was my sex drive was starting to flare up again. There were so many options. There were strapless, pushups, and full coverage for starters. Some of the bras had wires and some did not. The color choices were never ending. Some were plain and others were decked out in lace. I was giving in to my hormones and female desires with each possibility. I couldn't believe it, but I was excited to be trying on clothes. "Having some issues," Monica asked. I was blushing so badly Monica could see it through my make up. I was embarrassed, but confronting these desires only seemed to make them stronger. I took the clothing that I had and ran into dressing room 3. "Please pick out some bras and place them over the door. I will try them on," I said as I hurried off. I did not even wait for Monica to agree to my request. I quickly entered the dressing room and locked the door behind me. My nipples were longing to be rubbed. I unbuttoned my blouse, which caused my breasts to spill out, and started to rub my breasts through my tank- top's built-in bra. It felt so good and so new. I could feel pulses of warming energy flow down from them to my abdomen and spread to my crotch. It was different then in the shower and hit me in waves. My state of mind was having a huge affect on my limbedo. Both of my hands were now pulling and pushing my nipples around. I could not take it and let out a soft moan as a short burst of pleasure shot from my vaginal region and out through my whole body. I caught my breath, but did not stop my stimulation. Did I just have an orgasm, I thought. Monica placed 6 different bras over the top of the door. Either that was really fast or I am loosing track of time. "Thanks for leaving a guy to pick out bras on his own. It is a good thing I don't care what people think of me. Please take your time and try these on. I am going to look at some of the dresses. I thought I saw one that would look great on you. I will be back in 15 minutes or so," Monica said. I barely acknowledged Monica and took off my tank-top. My breast hung free and my nipples were once again begging to be touched. I took a hold of my right nipple and started to pinch it slightly and roll it between my forefingers and thumb like I use to do in foreplay. Direct stimulation was so much more powerful then rubbing through my tank-top. My breathing was getting deep and heavy. I managed to keep my voice low as once again a pulse of pleasure shot out from my vagina and seemed to travel through my whole body. It was much more powerful then last time. It felt so good afterward. The feeling sort of reverberated through my body. If pleasure was a bouncy ball, it would be like shooting it out of a cannon into a small box where it could bounce around for a few seconds before settling. I still felt something greater inside me. I felt like I could explode. Without conscious thought my left hand traveled up my skirt and started to rub the top of my vagina through my panty hose and thong. It was as if my body knew what to do on its own. My crotch felt damp; no I dare say it was soaked. I quickly unfastened my skirt and let it fall to the floor. I looked up and realized I was surrounded by mirrors. I could see a beautiful burnet with DD breasts and a perfectly toned body masturbating. If that was not enough, the girl in the mirror was wearing panty hose with the shadow of a thong underneath them. It was every guys dream, and I was living it. My mind was now stimulated, and my left hand started to press firmly on my vagina. My hips started to buck as I did, and I was loosing my balance. There was a chair in the corner so I sat down. I wanted more, and the sexual animal inside me roared for satisfaction. The thong tightened up my ass, as I sat down and it only pushed me further. Everything feminine about the experience made me hornier, and I loved it. I switched hands as my right nipple started to get soar. As soon as I started to work my left nipple my hips bucked hard and I exploded inside. It took all the willpower I possessed not scream. I moaned out loud, but thankfully nobody was around to hear it, or so I hoped. I spent another minute collecting my breath, and resting in the chair. My hormones had been satisfied and I was coming down from my sexual high. I looked up at the mirror and saw myself. I wanted to cry. The girl in front of me was a manifestation of my greatest wet dream. I wanted to kiss her, hold her, and screw her brains out. Like some cruel fated joke I was that girl, and consequently would not be able to screw her or anyone for that matter. Worse yet I could not just ignore the girl like any guy does when he doesn't wish to torture himself; instead I was reminded every second of every day of my fate. The bras Monica laid out for me were still hanging from the door. I stood up and grabbed them. They all read 36DD, but they did not all look to be the same size. Needless to say they were incomparably larger than Monica's B cup bras. Under further investigation it appeared the cups were composed of different shapes. I guess that makes sense, I thought. Women do have many different shapes of boobs. I ran my soft fingers over the fabrics. The inside of the bras were soft and padded. It felt so inviting. I started to hold the different cups up to my breasts to see which shape fit me best. I found that the brand Bestform was shaped just right. I tried on a white one and a black one made by them. The bra felt like a shield protecting my sensitive nipples from the world. My erect nipples felt less exposed and safe within the confines of the bra. It is hard to explain how a bra can make a girl feel secure....but it does. The lace and elastic band were pretty to look at too. The underwire, to my surprise, made a huge difference. They balanced the weight underneath my boobs and spread it out evenly. My boobs were raised and pushed together a little, but comfortably held in place. The lacey patterns screamed femininity, but I was able to look past it. There really isn't anything unfeminine about a bra. The bra straps were wider then any of the old bras I use to see Monica wear, but I figured that had to be because my boobs were now gargantuan. I jumped up and down a bit to test the bra. My boobs jiggled a little, but I was very pleased. The elastic band running around my torso was a bit annoying. When my arms settled to my side I could feel the elastic band. It was like nothing a guy ever felt, and was once again a foreign feeling I would have to get use too. I raised my hands in the air and swirled around looking in the mirror. I looked hot, and felt flustered over my fate. I tried on a few shirts over the Bestform bras and decided it was time to attempt the rest of the bras. I tried some of the others and quickly learned what Monica meant with her warning. Looks could certainly be deceiving. Another bra with underwire was a full coverage bra. It was not shaped right and pushed on my boobs creating stress points. I did not look near as sexy either. The pushup bra I tried on was awful, and after looking in the mirror, I did not really need it. My boobs were big enough on their own. All I really needed was support, and the sports bras gave me just that. I was elated with the help they offered. They were a little difficult to put on, but they were like a soft padded vice holding it all in. The jiggling was managed and I loved the comfort. If you were trying to describe in terms a guy would understand, it would be like comparing a pair of slacks to a pair of sweat pants. The sports bra was pure comfort. Another one of the standard cut bras supported my breasts but the front of the cups was made of sheer and it lacked any padding. You could see my dark areolas and nipples through the front. Normally I would be all for this kind of bra, but I was the one who had to wear it and put up with the consequences. Worst of all my nipples poked through and would show through any tight fitting shirt I wore with it. The bra felt lighter and let a little air through which I thought would feel nice, but just made me feel vulnerable. I wanted Monica here with me to keep me safe. I could not believe how weak I had become. I had finished trying on the clothing, and to my dismay dressed back in the tank-top with the built in bra. I decided with boobs as big as mine a built in bra would never suffice. I buttoned up my blouse and put my skirt back on. The top button of my blouse could not longer take it and shot off. My cleavage was spilling out the top. Once again I felt like crying. I decided I still looked decent enough for kids to see and left it alone. My hair and make up looked a little disheveled, but nothing gross. I raised my hands up to my face to fix my hair and caught a whiff of my own natural odors from down below. My crotch was soaked. I was embarrassed and knew that Monica would pick up on it in a second. My hands smelled like a woman's vagina from my explorative pleasure. I needed to find a bathroom, but I also need to get the 4 bras and the shirts I liked to Monica. I left the dressing room with the entire set of clothes I wanted in hand. I found my old body frowning in the dress section. "The prices are just too much. Maybe when you, oh well I guess I mean when I finish college we can afford nicer things," Monica said. "Can you hold these for me and don't talk like we will never change back? These bras work great, and I like these shirts. Please buy them for me. I need to go use the little girl's room," I playfully said. Monica did not object, but he could definitely tell something was different. We agreed to meet at the cash register. I don't know why, but I felt extremely gitty and filled with excitement. There was a pop in my step, which only made my hips swing wider and my boobs bounce more, but I did not care. I had to walk across the whole length of the store to get to the public bathroom, and I cherished every step. If I had masturbated as a guy I would barely be able to keep my eyes open. Being a girl is extremely different. Upon arriving, I walked into the men's room. Lining the wall were 5 urinals, of which I no longer had the necessary equipment to use. An old man, who was using the last urinal, gave me a stern look, as I retreated. Old habits, I thought. I walked into the girl's bathroom with an air of dread and embarrassment in my mind. I did not belong in the women's bathroom, did I? Plus, public bathrooms were always so dirty and stinky. The small amount of air I breathed in the men's bathroom had proven that. Even as a guy I did not ever want to use them unless the need was dire. That opinion changed in a second. When I walked in I first found a small room with mirrors and couches on either side. I did not really understand, but kept going. The next section had the standard hand washing area with mirrors and diaper changing stations on the opposite wall. The smell of the whole bathroom was a mix of perfumes from other guests, but mostly a fresh clean scent. I tried to ping my body to see if I had to pee. I tried releasing and tightening the muscles I used earlier in the day to pee, and almost did more then I bargained for. I found an open stall and closed the door. The toilet looked spotless. I did not have to clean urine off the seat and the floor was not surrounded by puddles of piss, nor was the toilet filled with poop and clogged with too much toilet paper. It was one pleasant surprise after another. I turned and pulled my panty hose and thong down just past my knees. I then lifted up my skirt and sat down. It was more difficult to pee with my underwear and panty hose restricting how far I could spread my legs, but I made it work. Unlike men's bathrooms, I did not hear the sounds of farts and over the top splashes of poop. It was quaint. As I sat their relieving myself, I could hear two teenage girls having a perfectly normal conversation from different stalls. I was once again perplexed. You would think that guys and girls have the same bathroom code of ethics, but you would be wrong. In the stall with me was everything I expected to find, except opposite of the toilet paper was a small tin box attached to the wall, and their appeared to be a scented plastic bag lining the container. I finished peeing and cleaned up, but the box on the wall was intriguing. I pulled my thong backup, and repositioned my panty hose. The crotch of my thong was still soaked and gave me a cold surprise when I pulled it up tight. I situated the rest of my attire and flushed. The toilet looked exactly as I had found it, but the box on the wall was stimulating my curiosity. I decided to peak inside. I was horrified. I had not even thought about what was in there or that I might even have use for something like that. Inside the box were a couple of used panty liners and a toilet paper cocooned tampon. I quickly left the stall and went to the sink to wash my hands. I washed for about a minute with soap and warm water. I had thought about it a little when I placed the panty liners in my purse, but it finally occurred that it could happen to me. Am I going to have a period? When is it going to happen? How long will it last? Is it going to hurt as bad as the girls in middle school use to say it did? Am I going to have to stick a tampon in