Enjoy Them, Martina! - The Other Side free porn video

It was a late spring evening and I was on my way home. By the way, my name is Steve and I am 16. I am slim, not much of muscles, average tall, maybe a bit on the short side though. I see myself as rather shy and not so outgoing. That is why I keep to myself most of the time. I am often bullied and there is not much I can do about it ... beside maybe ... sit with some girls. No, I am no ladies man either. Rather the opposite or maybe not the meaning you might connect with 'ladies man'. I am rather fond and happy when I am among girls. I feel like home. Sometimes I think I would be better off, if I were born a girl. But since I am not, they tolerate me only up to a certain degree. When they talk boys or fashion it's okay. If I should find out, if a boy would be available and/or interested in one of them, I am most popular. But when it comes to problems 'down there' or 'up there' I am chased away like a dog. But those would be the most interesting topics for me. NOOOO, I am not a pervert. I just sort of live my 'girlhood' through there growing-up. It might be as close as I ever come to being a real girl. There is a TG living down the road and for sure she isn't pretty. Don't get me wrong she looks quite okay and seems to be happy with what she gained so far. But still I can see the man underneath all that feminity. If I could be a girl I would only want to be a real girl - a GG. Even one day would be enough. '...rrrright! Steve, get a grip!' I know, if I tasted milk and honey, it would be hard to go back to water and rotten bread. But still I dream almost every night how I would embrace feminity, if it happens to knock on my door and if just for one day. Never mind! So I usually sit with the girls - if they let me - and secretly admire how they are dressed and how their clothes fit and accent their bodies developing into women. I long for their beautiful slim legs, their rounding hips and their budding breasts. Although I would be more than happy to have just one of those features myself I often dream I could have the full package and then rather enough of each. When the girls complain after P.E. about how 'uncomfortable' and 'huge' their rather small breasts are, I always wanna shout 'then give them to me!!!', but of course I never do much more than turn away my beet-red head. Because of all that I am bullied more and more. So I often hide after school until no one is around. Let them think I am off with the first ping of the bell. Today there was football practice and ringer practice and cheer leading and some bullies 'camped' in front of the school yard. Hence I climbed upstairs and hid in the attic. Best is, I can see the cheerleaders from up there without being noticed myself. Often I dream I could be one of them then. Those short-skirts are soo cute! They show off the leg so nicely. Worst is, I can only get down when I am sure everybody has left the building and the janitor is outside. Today the coach ordered extra- training because of the debacle last Friday. Thus the janitor went to clean the field not much before the dusk set in. I sneaked down the wooden set of stairs and slip out the side entrance. It became much darker much sooner than I had anticipated. So when I walked to the station through some dark lanes, I was really glad to see a woman walking about half a block ahead of me. She had a very purposeful and self-confident stride. Although she wore high-heels! I was rather glad to have my sneakers on and didn't attract any subjects or inform them about my fear-shaken mind. So I hurried my steps and followed her as fast as I could without making any noise. When I got closer I was in love. Not with her as a person but with the 'picture'. She wore lovely dark-blue stiletto heels. Beside her determined stride the slim and maybe 3.5 or 4 inch high heels gave her ankle a slight tremble. Her legs were loooooong and divine and engulfed in expansive-looking dark nylon. They emerged a short, a very short, but not too short mini-skirt. It was a classy one, dark-blue, pin-striped and matching the jacket of the same fabric. It was the most feminine version of a business suit I had seen so far. The waist was slim and the hips flared out. The shoulders were wide, but still feminine. Above, there was a stylish hair-cut of dark blonde hair with a few well-placed streaks and highlights wound in soft wide curls. They bobbed with her stride and I didn't know where to look first. I would have gone everywhere she would turn to, but fortunately she headed for the station as I noticed right before I bumped into the door which has closed behind her. Broken free from my daydreams I carefully followed her to the platform. Obviously, she hadn't noticed me yet. I waited in the shadows until my train rolled in. Luckily, she took the same commuter train like me. I hurried to get into the same car. Originally I wanted to strode by and take a seat where I cold watch her reflection in one of the windows. But that was before I had seen her face and features. She was in her forties maybe, but a pretty WOMAN. I had seen many pretty girls and top models in magazines. Most were really pretty, but still just pretty girls. She had a classy face, with clear cut lines, smooth skin and no baby fat. Her eyes were blue and clear and even the bit fatigue look and some wrinkles couldn't really tone-down their liveliness. And then my eyes met her top. The jacket with its wide and deep V-neck as well as the white blouse underneath were pushed open by some lovely huge mounds. When I caught a glimpse of those milky, satin-smooth and slightly tanned skin spanning over obviously perfectly formed orbs, I could not do much more than collapse in the seat opposite her, before my legs denied their service completely. I tried to look out of the window, but like huge magnets her breasts drew my eyes around until I stared at them. Not long and I would drool like the comic wolf over Jessica Rabbit. Luckily she didn't notice my uncovered starring. While I ogled her beautiful breasts and wondered what they would feel like - on my chest - I slid deeper and deeper. Suddenly I was almost on eyelevel with her skirt. Of course, she had her legs crossed and there would be nothing to see, but still I couldn't resist. I had to find out if she wore stockings or hose. I surely would dream of me wearing all her stuff that night with stay-ups or even better with suspenders. Suddenly a movement registered in the corner of my eyes. I looked up and found her hard-starring down at me. In a flash I sat upright again. From the glowing of my cheeks I was redder than beet-red. She watched me with a stone-cold face and a arched brow. I lowered my eyes like a scolded child and grew even redder if possible. When she raised her cheesy chick-book again I dared another look at her face. It was still stone-cold, although I though I saw a tiny smile in the corner of her lips. But clearly that must have been a trick of light, since she shot me another LOOK before continuing her reading. I tried to stare out of the window instead, but as soon as I caught her refection in the pane or saw her move to turn a page I HAD to look at her breasts. I couldn't do a thing about it. My eyes were on autopilot! And every time I longed for the feeling of owning them, of feeling them move as a part me or just to look down at them filling MY d?collet?. At least now I didn't draw any attention again. She kept reading and I sneaked some glimpses. Then they announced my station, but I didn't want to get off the train. I would rather stay here and watch her read, while imagining it would be me over there in those clothes, in that body! But then she got up. She walked to the door and held to a pole while still reading the book. I jumped up and followed her. I was about to reach for the handle at the door when my gaze fell on her lovely mounds again. My knees weakened and I brushed her breast with my arm before I could steady myself. Suddenly I felt a sting in the back of my arm. I turned around to see if she had pricked me, but she had packed her cheesy novel away and was looking out of the window, obviously waiting for the station. When the train stopped the doors opened automatically and I almost fell off the train onto the platform - face first. But she grabbed my arm and steadied me. I felt drowsy and weak and tired. She led me to a bench and sat me down. Then my feet gave away. As the train left the station she left me sitting there. I wanted to follow her again, but my body surrendered to sleep. After a few seconds or maybe minutes I slowly gained consciousness again. I still kept my eyes shut and lingered in the last waves of a strange but lovely dream. The woman had come back and let me to a cab, where I slept until we arrived at her home. Somehow I flew into her bathroom, where she washed my hair and began to pamper me. It felt as if she brushed my hair and made-up my face. I closed my eyes in my dream and dreamt and flew some more. There were some buzzing sounds and then somehow I recalled the time I had dressed in my mother's stuff. My legs grew cold while a breeze swept under my mother's skirt. The bra I had snatched the week before tugged in my shoulders and in my back. The balloons I had filled with water and stuffed into the cups were obviously too big... Although I felt myself sitting on the bench at the platform again, the feeling of the wind brushing my bare legs and the tugging of the bra was still reported to my drowsy brain. Then my drowsy brain registered too much light illuminating my closed eye lids from the outside. And the birds singing where rather larks then nightingales! My eyes snapped open and in the first daylight I looked at two magnificent breasts pushing a pink top away from MY chest and pushing open my jacket. The top-most buttons must have been blast off by the stretching of MY breasts (!?!?) because they were missing. Realization dawned on me. I HAD BREASTS! I had ogled at her breasts and wished I could feel them hanging on my chest and NOW I HAD THEM ON MY CHEST!!! This couldn't be real! I must still be dreaming! My hands on autopilot flew up to my(?) breasts and crash-landed hard on those mounds. My body's muscles memory didn't know those protruding forms yet. It hurt like hell. Slowly I touched them again. Still it felt as if my skin were on fire. Not only sensitive like raw, but like I had got a beating with a cane all night long. I should know how that feels like. My dad tried to make me a man by dancing a cane over my buttocks for some years. But that only pushed me farther down pansy road or towards wanting to be a girl. GIRL!?!!?! Maybe I was a girl now!?!? If breasts could grow over night why shouldn't wieners vanish magically as well? My expecting hands shoot down between my legs and found a mini-skirt and panties and a void where that stupid 'hose and bag' had been all those years. Still I didn't feel a slit or an opening. It still felt as before! Only I couldn't touch 'him'. Was that how women feel? Not so different from men then. I was a bit disappointed. Maybe I had expected a firework of beautiful feelings like in those cheesy novels and TG stories. Still next was to explore my new body. I turned this way and that and looked me up and down as best as I could. I had white sneakers on and white frilly socks. My legs were bare and not much different from before. Also my buttocks seemed the same old tiny half-globes. But now a cute white mini-skirt flared where they left my body. Almost like a cheerleader's skirt. I had a pink tube-top on and my old but now too small jeans jacket. Underneath I felt a bra. When I woke up, I though, I felt the cups wrinkle because they weren't filled to the max. But now they seemed to press against and stretch the material. Did my breasts still grow? I hefted my breast with both hands gently. WOW! They felt heavier, too. I looked down and saw them bulge in the cups, which began to cut into the formerly perfectly rounded orbs. Their skin still burned painfully - just as if the skin was ripped slowly off my flesh. Nevertheless I felt content. This meant they were growing right?!?! As I looked down bleach-blonde hair disturbed my vision. I reached up and the soft curls were really my hair! This reminded me of my dream and I touched my face. My eyebrows felt thinner and my lashes rigid and heavier. Now that I tried to focus on them, they were thicker and darker, too. That must be mascara! When I licked my lips they tasted of lipstick. But beside that my face felt like before. My doubtful hands fell down to cup my breasts once more. I now discovered my finger nails had been filed to a nice classy almond shape and painted pink! I wore my nails rather long for a guy, but still short for my likings. Nevertheless they looked girlish now. My fingers seemed more slender although they looked the same when I looked at my palms. I had to go somewhere to check me out. Thus I turned to leave the station. Still looking at my palms I recalled the sticky feeling when I awoke from my dream. I looked around and spotted a post-it where I had jumped up when I got aware of my breasts. I picked it up and read "Enjoy them, Martina". Martina? Should this be my new name? I liked it. Didn't it originated from Mars, the Roman god of war? So it meant something like warrior or fighter. Fighter-girl?!? Pretty cool! With a determined stride I strode towards the main exit, but I could not block a happy spring sneaking into my steps. Before I could leave the building I eyes met the restroom doors. I changed my path and on second thought slipped in the one marked "Ladies". Although I was a girl now I still blushed quite a bit. After I had ensured I was alone in here, I locked the door and went over to the mirror. Also I kind of knew what to expect I still was shocked by what I saw. The girl in the reflection acted like I did, but my brain still refused to accept it as MY image reflected. She had platinum-blonde hair, arched thin eyebrows filled in with eyeliner and heavily made-up eyes with eyeliner, mascara and eye-shadow. The blue eye-shadow and the thickly painted lashed magnified my eyes and highlighted my bluish eyes. Her lips were painted the same pinkish shade as my nails. But beside that I could still see my old face underneath - although it looked much more feminine now. She wore the clothes I had already discovered on me and when I undressed my jeans jacket she did the same. Underneath 'we' both wore a pink tube- top. I turn this way and that and she followed suite. So this must be really me!!! My breasts looked even bigger in the mirror now - especially when I turned sideways. I looked down to compare the images and found my breast had grown some more. Now the cups clearly tugged into my new soft mounds. I slipped the top off my shoulders and cupped my bra-clad breasts. They were even tenderer than the last time I probed them and they strained the cups just a bit more. After fumbling around a bit I managed to open the hooks behind my back. The straps flung around and sprang off my shoulders. The bra slid down and my breasts hung free ... stood free ... swayed ... ? They sagged only a little although they clearly were the biggest ones I had ever seen so far ... and this is not only on my chest! I picked up the bra and found a sticker 38 DD and that one was way TOO tight!!! I let the bra fall onto the sink and cupped my naked breasts again. I weighed them and squeezed them gently. They were huge, real and MINE!!! They also were red and burning and hot to the touch. Similar as if I had got fever. I wet my hands with some tap-water and carefully tried to cool them. But like a sponge they seemed to slurp up every drop of it. Before I felt any cooling effects my skin was dry again. So I held them closer to the water and sprayed them with it. This time I felt them cooling down. Strangely, it felt as if the cooling came from the inside too now. As before I could watch as they dried within seconds. But this time just like an old dry sponge getting wet THEY GREW!!! I could actually WATCH them GROW another size or so! I tried on the discarded bra but I didn't have to slip my arms in the straps. In comparison its DD cups could have been A or B cups as well. My monstrous breasts could fill each cup twice without problem. I jumped up and down a bit and they swayed and jiggled quite naturally - if not for their unnatural size. But my nipples basically looked the same - only stretched to the size of an inch in diameter now. And I didn't really have nipples anymore since the stretching had pulled them flat. Only a tiny hump showed any resemblance. So to be true they didn't look the same at all, but it weren't no woman's either. I went into a stall. Somehow it was to embarrassing to do what I was planning to do next in the open of the restroom. Inside the stall I lifted my skirt and looked down as far as possible with that new flesh up front. There was a pair of cute white satin panties and they showed off my pretty new void. There was only so much of pubic hair that the panties lifted slightly in the middle. With a racing heart I tugged my fingers in the waistband and slowly shoved it down. I almost expected someone jumping up on me and shouting to behave myself. But I carried through. My pubic hair had the shape of a heart. I almost fainted. It looked so cute! That's when something stirred deeper down in my panties. It was an all too familiar feeling!!! I rushed my panties deeper and to my biggest disappointment my good old cock sprang to life. Had I used up my time as a girl already? Or was he there all the time? I looked at my breasts fearing to see them shrink and deflate themselves any minute. But the stayed the same. They didn't grow and they didn't shrink. Phew! My little buddy was rock-hard nevertheless. It started to become more and more painful by the minute, too. There was only one thing I could do to fit in those panties again. I tried to grab him with both hands. But my boobs came in the way. So I tried to shove them away with my left hand, keeping a hold with my right. Still I constantly hit my breast with my right arm. But that felt better than the hand on my cock. So soon both hands were caressing my boobs and pinching my nipples as best as they could and within seconds I felt the familiar spasm and throbbing. My load hit a tile on the opposite wall. While I stood there panting my throbbing cock deflated as fast as it had sprang to life. I cleaned up the mess, pulled the panties and the top up and the skirt down. Luckily the top was spandex and could keep up with the bigger me. Then I rushed to the sink and washed my hands all the while looking at my reddened, but still lovely face. When I looked down I saw the bra again. I picked it up, folded it nicely and put in the pocket of my jeans jacket which I donned next. Now I couldn't close the buttons left because of my even bigger and braless breasts. Before I slipped out of the room I wanted to check if the coast was clear. So I stepped on a litter box and peered out through the narrow opening in the tinted milky glass. The platform was deserted and empty. So was the rest I could observe from my hiding spot. But then my eyes landed on a small blue European sports car. A woman was sitting behind the wheel and watching the station closely. On the other hand she seemed nervous as if she could not decide whether to get out of her car or to drive away. Then it hit me - IT WAS HER!!! The woman from yesterday evening! Was she watching me or was it a coincidence? Coincidence? Coincidence, my butt! She must have done to me whatever had been done to me! Or at least she would know what happened to me. I stepped off the bin and threw one last look around and in the mirror before I unlocked the door and opened it a crack. As far as I could guess, she could not see this particular part, but the exit. So she must know I was still in the station. I stepped through the door and squeezed close to the wall. I checked and couldn't see her car. So for sure she couldn't see me either. My back pressed against the tiles I retreated into the averted part of the station. The janitor's chamber's door wasn't locked so I took a look inside. It was almost an office, it even had a window. I slid it up and climbed outside. Then I pulled it shut and looked around for orientation. Still in the luck I was right next to the tunnel leading to the other side of the railroad. Hidden by the building I got into the tunnel and crossed it. There I sneaked a peek around the corner. The car itself was hidden by a truck but I could see the tires. Hidden by the truck myself I got closer to the car. I rounded the corner of the truck slowly and saw the woman now standing in the opened door of her car. Just as if she wasn't sure whether to get quickly back in or walk over to the station she trembled a bit back and forth - one foot still inside the car. I sneaked closer to her and was already in arm's reach when she heard the gravel move under my feet. Shocked she drove around and watched me with a fixture of shock, fright and relief. Before she could do something else to me or jump in the car and drive away, I jumped forward, threw my arms around her and squeezed her (probably too hard) to my big bosom. She had tried to jump backwards and bring her arms between us. But the door stopped her fled and I was too fast for her. I squeezed her tight and ignored the dull pain radiating from the spots where our soft mounds crushed into each other's. "THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU SOO MUCH!" I almost shouted in her ear. "Whatever you have done, thank you soo much! I will enjoy them! I..." My voice broke and tears stained my eyes and cheeks. The woman slowly emerged from her shock-driven rigor and answered "Jeez, I am so glad... you're still alive. I .. I thought you killed yourself and it was all my fault. ... When you didn't come back out of the station I... Oh, I am just so happy you're still alive. I will try to get you help. We will get this undone... we... I will ... you ... Please don't hurt yourself! It was just a stupid, stupid idea! Please forgive me! I will make it up and you will be you again no matter what it costs..." Now she was sobbing heavily. She seemed to have missed all I said. "No, no! It is fine! Really! Please stop crying! I might not look like one, but I am a man and I can't stand women crying..." She had looked up and smiled shortly when I came to the 'look like' part. "No, you surely don't and it's all my fault! I am sorry! I shouldn't have..." I closed her lips with my index finger. "Hush, it's fine! Really! You can't imagine what a dream you fulfilled last night!!! I always wanted to be a girl or at least to feel what it's like for a day or so..." I hefted my breasts and continued "... and now I can. ... Ehm, ... you ... you are not a witch, ehm, by chance? ...and could make me a girl down there, too? JUST ASKING! Please, don't get mad!" "No! NO! I am not a witch!" and she started laughing warm and heartily. When she had gained some breath again, she reached out with her hand and continued: "I am Geena, by the way. Mother, secretary, widow and NO witch, but hobby gardener." She snickered about the last remark, which left me not so sure about the 'no witch' part. When I arched a brow she let go of my hand she had been shaking before and poked a finger in my bosom. "Those are beads to keep flowers fresh when in a vase. Basically only water turned into jelly. I am sorry, but you hit my weak spot yesterday and I was blinded by my rage. So I went way over the top and tattooed them under your skin." "I told you I don't really mind. No need to feel sorry... Wait! They grow in water? That's why I became even bigger, when I tried to cool them under the tap... Just like a flower!" "Yeah maybe I should call you Amber or Yasmin or Daisy... Ehm, what's your name anyway?" Geena bubbled merrily. "Steve... but I guess Martina is more fitting now. Yes, I think, I like Martina. You may call me Martina then!" "Nice to meet you, Martina! I just came up with that name because I told the cabby you were my son and the first name which came up to my mind was Martin. So after the transformation Martina was just ... there..." "I like it." "Still you look kind of sad!" "Oh, it's just because... DON'T GET ME WRONG! I like what you did to me, but I can't go home or to school like this. And my clothes won't fit me no more. So I was just thinking, what to do next..." "Hmmm, as for the clothes... you could come with me and I could lend you some of my daughter's. She is not as big as you on the upper floor ... but beside that her stuff seemed a pretty good fit yesterday. ... and until you know what you would like to do about all that and how to face your parents, you could also live in her room, if you like. Or we could go and see a doctor. Ask if it is reversible somehow..." I answered: "No, I would like to stay this way, at least for a while. You know, I always wanted to find out what it really feels like for a girl and now I have the chance... kind of." I looked down at my rack, then I continued: "About your offer. I would really love to, but only if it is okay with you! Please tell me if I am not welcome! ..." and when she didn't withdrew her offer: "... and I can't wait to try on all those clothes. You must be my fairy godmother!" With that I bear-hugged her. Tears streamed down our faces and if hers was an indication, my makeup looked like a big smear. We separated and she pointed me to get into the car. I walked around the car and slipped into the passenger seat. She followed suite and then turned to me to say: "I think, we could pretend you are my cousin's daughter. Not even my closest friends would question such an explanation." I turned towards her - more tears streaming down my face - smiling from ear to ear. "I would really enjoy that! So if you wouldn't mind?!?! ... Auntie Geena?" "Yes, sweetheart? ... Let's go home!" With that she started the engine, shifted in rear and when the clutch closed, gravel flew by as fast as we shoot the other direction. Then she turned the wheel slightly and we drifted a perfect one-eighty. She had already shifted again and the tires squealed when they met the pavement. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to step into the car of a stranger, who had done things to me I couldn't quite understand and resulted in me in a mini-skirt and with enormous breasts jiggling now with every bump. She was smiling like the Cheshire cat that caught the canary while I clutched to the handle and my seat belt as if the devil was already tearing at my body and soul. But then she entered the main street and her style became smooth enough for driving Mrs. Daisy. She glanced at me and her happy face grew sad. "Oh I am sorry. It's just ... I love this car and it is such a pity to snail around when it is built for mountain races and German autobahns. I guess, girls can get a midlife-crisis, too. But we don't show off in public...", she giggled. She smoothly hopped some gaps and ended first at the next red light. When it turned green, the black rubber screamed for mercy shortly, but then silenced by the traction control, catapulted us forward until we reached the legal speed limit. I turned around and we had gained some 50 yards to our closest pursuer. As I turned to look forward again my gaze brushed a police car parked in a side street - with a cop watching the traffic! I became aware that I was without any identification - at least none which fitted my current look. The blood left my face the second time in mere minutes. Geena must have sensed my worries, because she cocked her head slightly smiling reassuringly at me: "I won't let you down! Nobody will find out unless you tell them yourself. You look perfect and there is no reason to stop us in the first..." Without further incident we reached Geena's ... our (?) home. She left the car and it up to me to follow her inside. The door stood open and I had any chance to leave right now. But curiosity kills the cat! ... and maybe me too, because I climbed off my seat and followed her inside. She had already discarded her shoes and jacket and was busy in a room further down the hall. Accounting the banging of pots, that would be the kitchen. On a stool next to a small table I found most of my cloth neatly folded away. I could just grab them and hit the road again. But where should I go? The clothes wouldn't fit - beside my jeans maybe. But still nobody would see the boy in me. Besides, I WAS REALLY curious and this might be my chance once in a lifetime. So after some weighting my options I closed the door behind me, dropped my jacket onto the same stool and slipped out of my shoes. Then I sneaked down the hall on my girlish socks following those noises and the sweet smells of fresh coffee, pancakes and bacon. Geena was busy cooking. Her back was turned towards the door. So I could look around before she noticed me. Everything was neat and friendly and nothing rang any alarm bells. Suddenly she turned around a stack of dishes in her hands. Obviously she noticed me just now. She smiled and pointed with her head towards the table. Then she laid out the dishes and silverware without shedding a second thought about me. I sat down and we had a nice breakfast. Maybe this wasn't just the start in a new day but in a new live I could enjoy...