Chris-alis Chapter 1 free porn video

Chris-alis Chapter 1 Disclaimer and warning: Although this story starts out innocently as do most of our own life stories, as the characters progress in age, themes shift to more adult situations along with explicit sexual descriptions. You have been warned. Life doesn't always turn out the way you think it might or the way you plan it. When I was just a kid growing up, I didn't really think much about future plans, other than doing my homework (mostly to keep my parents happy) or what I wanted for Christmas and my birthday or what to do during summer vacation. But once high school comes into the horizon, the future has a way of sneaking up on all of us. Although it took me quite a while, I slowly figured out that even though many things hadn't turned out as expected, making the most out of every day with all that I've been given, that's been my key to real contentment and happiness. Being down by 4 points, 21-17, with just 51 seconds left on the clock and 47 yards to get to the end zone, things were looking desperate. It took us almost 3 minutes just to move the ball 30 yards to the 47 yard line and it didn't look like the Oaks Valley Vikings' stout defense was about to let us speed things up. "Red 36, red 36, green 21, down, set, hike!!" hastily barked my senior classmate, Andy Burns, our team's QB. Abruptly finishing his loud cadence, Andy signaled to the offense that he set the play into motion. As I heard the audible, I dryly swallowed my nerves, knowing that my number was about to be called. Before I could get to full stride, I faked left with a strong sudden shoulder lean. Despite wearing my trusty firm sports bra, which was designed to hold generously sized breasts like mine in place, I could feel the mass of my chest pulling from one side to the other. I even felt the weight of my long thick auburn hair bound up in a ponytail as it whipped across my back because of my violent direction fake. The sensation of my shifting weight was only exacerbated by my immediate counter move thrusting my toned heart-shaped derri?re under my shoulders, powering my lithe athletic body in the opposite direction. After a short ten yard burst straight up field, I broke right over the middle as our tight end, who also happened to be my brother, Dave, rubbed off both the Mike linebacker and strong safety in one move preventing them from covering their assignments in the center of the field, leaving me wide open just long enough for Andy to throw a perfect strike to me in full stride. Once the ball was secure in my hands, I had an open field and clear path to the end zone and one of the best memories of my young life. My unusual tale begins, well, at the very beginning, when I was born. I came into this world on May 19th, 1992, born Christopher Justin Lange as my parents' second child. When I was born, they already had a 14 month old boy, my older brother, Dave. I was to be their second and final child. Upon my arrival, the doctors proclaimed me to be healthy, except for one minor issue; apparently I had a bit of both male and female sex characteristics, which they quickly deduced upon observing my ambiguous genitalia. I had what they characterized as a normal penis, whatever that meant, yet I had no observable scrotum but I also had a vaginal opening below my penis. In the following weeks, months and first couple years of regular doctor's visits, they determined that until I matured and started going through puberty, most tests for now would only prove inconclusive ascertaining my true gender. Although this left my parents a little frustrated and confused, they were happy that I was healthy in every other way and loved me all the same. At first my parents were reluctant to push me into a specific gender role one way or another, but the limited budget of a young married couple quickly aided their decision to go with a practical solution for how they would raise me. Since my brother was just a little over a year older than myself, they simply began dressing me in his old clothes and that was that. Well, there was the practical economic solution but my mother also thought that growing up as a boy, I would be mentally tougher and better able to handle difficult situations as I grew up with my unique uncertain condition. Ultimately, in many ways, I think she was probably right. Over the next several years, I found myself idolizing and emulating my big brother. When my brother went to preschool, even though I was a year younger than him, I had to know everything that he was doing in school and made him show me what he did each day. In essence, I made him teach me what he was doing and what he learned. By the time we were both in grade school, I was far enough ahead that I was able to skip 1st grade and joined my brother and his class for 2nd grade at Pacific Oaks Elementary School. And so it went, I was going to school with my big brother in his class. If anyone had known about my unique situation, one might wonder if using the boys bathroom would be a problem, but no one knew that anything was different about me and using the urinals just like all the other boys allayed any slight doubts about my gender. Although back then my brother wasn't exactly sure how or why I was 'different', he still made sure to watch out for me since I was the youngest in the class. Despite always being the youngest every year in every subsequent class, I was never the runt of the class. Even though I looked like a beanpole, I was always one of the two or three tallest in our class every year. However, my brother would be the tallest or second tallest. Our parents presumed we would be pretty tall, considering that both our mother and father were well above average. Before our parents had us, mom was a 5'10" local beauty queen and standout high school track sprinter. She used both of her strengths parlaying them into a modest career modeling for various department store chain catalogs, which we were told was how she caught dad's attention. Dad's 6'5" height helped him become the local basketball star in high school which also helped him earn a college scholarship. So it seemed that my brother and I weren't going to be short changed in the height or the looks department, for that matter. Dave got our dad's Scandinavian / German genes, stereotypical blond hair, blue eyes and strong jaw line, while I took after our mom's side of the family, her Czech / Greek genes expressed themselves physically giving me my wavy dark brown hair and blue/green eyes. My mom loved the way my hair looked, already going home from the hospital, my head was covered with thick dark wavy hair. Over the years she made sure to delay my visits to the barber shop until my hair was at least down to my collar. On a few occasions when my hair grew well below my collar, people who didn't know me or our family, they would mistake me for a 'pretty' little girl wearing boys clothes. Outside of school, there weren't too many kids for my brother and I to hang out and play with in our neighborhood. We lived in a suburban community in the sprawling greater metropolitan area of Southern California, called Pacific Oaks Glen, which was one of the older communities in our particular area of the city. Since the properties in our neighborhood were fairly old and typically much larger than average, there were fewer homes and most seemed to be a little more expensive than the homes just a mile or two away that were newer and built on regular size lots. Translated, that generally meant that there were fewer younger families with kids our age in the neighborhood. Until the 3rd grade, there were only 2 other families with kids on our block. Then that summer between 2nd and 3rd grade, a new family moved into the house behind our home on the next street over. Our properties shared the back wall, so as I peered down from my upstairs bedroom window, I could see that the family had kids, or at least one kid as I watched the father unload the moving van, storing some kid-sized bikes in their backyard shed next to their garage. That evening over the dinner table, I could hardly contain my excitement about our neighbors moving in and the possibility of making friends with their kids. Seeing my enthusiasm, my parents said they'd go over and welcome our new neighbors and introduce themselves rather than me going up to complete strangers on my own. After dinner my parents gathered us up and we went for a short walk around the block to meet our new neighbors, the Delacroix family. It turned out, they had two kids, James who was 11, 3 years older than my brother and almost 4 and a half years older than myself. At our age, that was a pretty big age gap. My brother felt a little let down that there were no other boys our age to play football, basketball, etc, or just horse around with in general. However, they had a daughter, Amanda, who preferred to be called Mandy. She just turned 8 in April, making her slightly younger than my brother but still a whole year older than me. When we met for the first time that evening, Mandy had her long honey blond hair done in beautiful hanging braids, in a way that I had never seen before. Since I had no sisters, Mandy would prove to be a source of new experiences and perspectives for me as they pertained to learning about girls. As soon as we were introduced, she excused herself and asked if she could show my brother and I her new room. My brother wasn't very interested in making friends with a girl, but he went along anyway since our parents did a pretty good job teaching both of us not to be rude. After a half hour of enthusiastic introductory story telling between Mandy and I, she excitedly invited us to come back after they finished moving in, though she seemed like she was talking more to me, but much like my brother and I, she had to be polite to both of us. During our conversation, I was pleased to learn that she was going to be in the 3rd grade with us when school started again in the Fall. On the way home, thinking about the way Mandy's braids framed her face, giving her an angelic aureoled look along with her enthusiastically friendly personality, I had decided that if there were angels, at that moment she was the closest thing to one here on earth. That summer, Mandy and I quickly became best friends. Despite being a girl, she liked to do many of the same things I enjoyed during summer vacation. Whether we were exploring the neighborhood on our bikes, swimming for hours in our pool staying cool during the hottest part of the day or even playing Playstation games together challenging me to Madden tournaments (and when our parents weren't looking, we'd play her brother's Duke Nukem game on his computer), it was a very rare occurrence when either of us wanted to do something that the other wouldn't enjoy also. It didn't take long for us to become inseparable friends. Whether we were climbing trees in our yard, hanging out in the tree house my dad built for my brother and I, or even playing one on one or two on two hoops in the backyard, this little girl and I were like two peas in a pod, seemingly friends made for each other. When we were out and about in the neighborhood, some of the adults even mistook us for brother and sister. Mandy seemed to always get a kick out of that. Even though temperatures seemed like they were just peaking at their hottest, summer became fall, at least on the calendar and with that, school began. Heading back to school with Mandy in tow, the addition of the new dynamic of all my classmates, knowing all their personalities helped me to quickly get my new friend into the flow with her new school and classmates. Whether we were at school or at home after school in our spare time, we were inseparable. Over the next few years, our friendship only became stronger, doing just about everything together. The next summer the whole Delacroix family accepted our invitation to join our family's annual camping trip. We went up to Rancho Vista state park up north in the Sierra foothills, taking our off road motorcycles and 4 wheel quads for our annual wilderness family adventure. Mandy wasn't very interested in trying my 80cc Honda dirtbike, but once she was familiar with how to operate the zippy 200cc Yamaha Blaster quad, she had no trouble working up her enthusiasm to join me on the trails. Although, my family went offroading infrequently, she knew this was one of my favorite activities and she was determined to enjoy this special treat with me. Before long, she discovered that she enjoyed racing around on her quad almost as much I did on my motorcycle. And so our friendship progressed, doing pretty much everything together until the middle of summer vacation after we finished 5th grade. That summer, my brother and I signed up for Pop Warner football for the first time. Fortunately, despite our age difference, our birth dates fell in just the right range allowing us both to play on the same team. Joining a football team was the one thing my brother pestered my parents about for years. Since I had always idolized my brother and he was so gung ho about playing organized football, I was too. Fortunately we kept our grades up, so our parents finally gave in to our pestering, allowing us to sign up for the local football team on the condition that we kept up our chores and used our allowance to pay for the sign up fees. Although my brother and I were both excited to finally play on an organized team with real pads, real uniforms and competing in a league of teams, we knew that we wouldn't have much if any money left to spend over summer vacation if we had to use our allowance to pay for signing up. So Dave came up with a scheme to start a lemonade stand where we'd both split the profits to make back at least some of our allowance money. Funny how Mandy, my parents and our friendly next door neighbors seemed to be our best customers. Stop me if you've heard this story somewhere else before... The first day of practice finally came and the coaches introduced themselves, walked us through the basics, gave us our play books and best of all, gave us our practice uniforms. It's kind of silly to think back, but simply by putting on my pads and uniform, I felt like I was a mini- pro. Our team was called the North Valley Wild Cats and our uniforms were dark red with gold trim. I couldn't wait to get home and show Mandy my uniform. While showing her my new uniform, even though she was happy for me and even a little impressed by my uniform, we both realized that this was one activity where she couldn't participate with me side by side. A few weeks after practices first began, some of our teammates' mothers brought their daughters to practice and began cheer leading practices next to the football practice. When I saw this, I immediately thought of Mandy and had to ask her to come out for the cheer leading squad. Although she was happy that I asked her to come out and join our team's cheerleader squad, she wasn't all that wild about cheer leading. Despite her hesitation, with a little show of puppy dog eyes from me, Mandy was convinced to join up. Even though we weren't participating together totally side by side, we were still relatively teamed up enjoying complimentary activities. Mandy turned out to be a pretty good cheerleader and after a month of practicing, the coaches had enough confidence to start me at wide receiver and free safety. When I first saw Mandy dressed in her cute little cheer leading uniform, it really brought out all of her cute girl features, along with her sun lightened blond hair that she kept in a fancy ponytail, I then unmistakably noticed how pretty she really was. With all the fun we constantly had, I kind of forgot to think of her as a girl, but simply just as my friend. I guess once she turned 11, hitting a growth spurt, she started to look more like an older girl, rather than the young little kid girl who moved in behind us 3 years ago. With this revelation, I made sure to do my best on the field so that whenever I had the chance, I'd give Mandy something to cheer about. Fortunately, along with my parents' ample height genes, I also inherited my mother's athleticism more so than my father's, among other things. Apparently mom ran track in high school, and she was pretty good too. Every year in our class presidential fitness testing, I seemed to alternatively win or barely miss 1st place in the two class race tests. This speed translated well to the football field, playing free safety and wide receiver. Even though we didn't pass the ball very much, whenever the coach called a pass play, they usually tried to get the ball to me since I'd always manage to find ways getting open behind the defense. If our QB, Jalen Richards, would have been a little more experienced and more accurate with his passing, we could have scored a few extra touch downs per game. Even though we weren't a superiorly prolific passing team, we managed just fine because of the strength of our offensive and defensive lines in addition to the running ability of Jalen. Now that I think about it, maybe he just enjoyed running the ball himself rather than passing it to his teammates. While I might have had a highlight or two each game receiving passes or an occasional interception, Dave was really the one guy on the team who made everything go. Although Dave was always a little taller than me, he was also much bigger boned than me and everyone else, meaning he was physically stronger than most kids our age. The coaches wisely put him on the defensive line at nosetackle and at tight end on offense, letting him wreak havoc on anyone across the line of scrimmage from him. In all honesty, Even though I might have gotten most of the aerial accolades, Dave was the heart and engine of our team. He scored few of our touchdowns, but he dominated in every game, even while being double teamed. I guess you could say that Dave was watching over me on the football field as well. He made sure that I was OK as he made sure that the team was OK too. Every team we played knew that they had to control Dave or he would wreck their plans to beat us. However, planning and knowing what you have to do doesn't necessarily mean that you can make your plans come to fruition. Sometimes, there are forces in nature that even the best laid plans can't control. As football season went on, so too did the new school year. Now that we were in 6th grade, we were the big shots of middle school. Most of the returning faces were familiar, except I could see that maybe half the boys and girls had varying growth spurts over the summer. Some of the boys, including my brother Dave, started to get their first chin whiskers, or even a little peach fuzz in some cases, while maybe a third or half the girls were starting to sprout honest to goodness breasts, or proto-breasts as some of the smart ass guys would say. Girls had proto-breasts when their nipples began noticeably protruding from their chests, but their breasts haven't quite started to grow just yet. But at least half the girls were now sporting A cup bras or training bras. By the middle of the school year, it seemed like two out of three girls were sporting bras and there was no way any of us could miss this fact. Mandy was one of the girls who not only started wearing bras, but she was also sporting obvious A cup breasts underneath and I certainly noticed. Most Saturdays after our football games and a quick shower, our parents would take us to the big Oakdale mall for a pizza lunch or ice cream desert. By then Mandy was practically a fixture in our home and was always invited to most every family function. Mandy had endeared herself to us all, so it was natural for my parents to consider her an honorary family member and treating her as such. After lunch or ice cream, we started a routine going to a matin?e movie. One particular Saturday after our family lunch celebration, Mandy and I got tickets to see the latest zombie horror film called, Z For Zombie, or something like that. I had recently found out that watching scary movies with her either at her house or mine, when our parents and siblings weren't around, during the entire movie Mandy would lean in really close to me, hold my hand or put her arm around me, grabbing me like I was a comforting stuffed animal... and I liked it. I figured that this horror film would very likely inspire much of the same response. Sure enough, at the first sign of scary trouble, Mandy buried her face into my neck, grasping my arm as if she'd fall off of a cliff if she'd let go. That was the moment I remember leaning over and planting a kiss right on her forehead. Did you think as a 6th grader who skipped a grade forward, that I'd be so bold to plant a kiss on my best friend's lips? At the time, I didn't put much thought into why I did it, but after the movie was over, Mandy grabbed my hand and walked with me hand in hand out of the theater. There was no doubt that we were best friends, yet even though no words were spoken discussing our actions during the movie, that innocent caring kiss raised the stakes of our friendship, of our relationship. Soon football season was almost over and we made it through the playoffs into the final league championship game. We ended up coming in 2nd place, losing the championship game to the West Valley Chiefs. They were a team of all star ringers from all over the area and everyone knew it, but we didn't make it easy for them. However, in the end, we were down on the scoreboard and simply ran out of time. The walk back from our final post game team huddle of the season, back to the stands to our parents, seemed to drag on in agonizing slow motion as we replayed in our heads how and what we could have done better. The whole team felt sick about the loss, but I think Dave and I were the most upset coming up short in the final game. These are the kinds of days when good parents and good friends earn their stripes. Today proved it as our parents and Mandy consoled us, telling us how proud they were of how well we played despite the final score. Eventually their message got through and they were right. We had nothing to be ashamed of, the coaches also tried to emphasize how proud they were, telling us pretty much the same thing our parents did, but it finally registered when Mandy smiled at me and put her arm around me as we walked back to the car. The lesson I learned that day was that losing sucks, but it's not the worst thing in the world. With football season over, the holidays were starting, Thanksgiving and Christmas were on on most everyone's mind. I think most people enjoy the holiday season, our family was no exception, but I loved it. In addition to the great food and exchanging gifts with each other, visiting all of the family, Grandma and Grandpa Lange, Grandma and Grandpa Martinek and all of our aunts, uncles and cousins, I was just as happy being invited to visit with the Delacroix family during the holidays as well. Both of our families made a point to get together one evening for a more relaxed dinner gathering after all the family madness died down. The dads would watch football, actually, so would Dave, Mandy's brother James, along with myself and Mandy, at least as long as the games were interesting. Our moms would talk about family (especially us kids), planning our next vacation and grown up stuff like careers and all the travel dad had to do for his job. Most people probably wouldn't think much of our families' get together, but times like this, it seemed that my world couldn't be more perfect. One thing that stood out when we were all dressed up in our Sunday best visiting during the holidays, Dave and Mandy started looking more like young teens or as I'd suggest, 'little adults', while I still obviously exhibited my 'cute' round faced little kid appearance. The only positive observation that I noticed about myself was that my vertical growth still kept pace with my brother, even if still resembling a bean pole yet also shy of his proud 5'7" height by an inch or so. One oddity about our heights that I found interesting was even though I was an inch shorter than my brother, my legs were about an inch longer than his. I really noticed my leg length when my pants didn't reach past my ankles anymore. However, my latest growth spurt put me at almost a full head taller than Mandy and a couple inches taller than Jason Stenstrom, the next tallest kid in our class. With football season and the holidays over, my brother and I needed a new hobby to keep us busy in our spare time. During Christmas vacation while out shopping, Dave and I noticed a new martial arts studio opening up just a mile away from our house. The sign in the window said that they taught Taekwondo, Hapkido and Kendo sword fighting. Within 10 seconds of noticing the new martial arts school, my brother and I had already made our intentions known to our dad. His initial response was his usual spiel about asking our mother for her permission first. I could tell that he wanted to say yes, but we all knew that mom had to give her final approval for these sorts of decisions. Regardless of not getting an immediate answer, I felt that our chances convincing mom were pretty good. The wild card was whether Mandy would want to go and if so, would her parents let her go with us. As soon as we walked in the door, Dave and I began buttering mom up. We knew how to press her buttons and she knew when she was being worked on by us. She quickly turned our request around as a challenge to keep up our chores and continue bringing home stellar report cards. Since these were already the terms our parents gave us for allowing us to play football, we quickly agreed to mom's conditions. As soon as mom gave us the thumbs up, I raced around the block to Mandy's house. I tried to be as smooth as I could selling her on the idea of going to Hapkido class with us. However, it wasn't the Hapkido that interested her so much, surprisingly, she was interested in learning Kendo sword fighting. I made her a deal that I'd take Kendo in addition to Hapkido if she'd go with me to Hapkido also. She agreed, but then came the final hurdle; her parents' consent. The logical choice was to approach her father, selling him on his little girl learning self-defense, which turned out to be the easiest sell up to that point in my life. Mandy's mom went along with her request as long as she met similar conditions to those my mother set for Dave and I. That night I had visions of Mandy and I running around like little ninjas destroying a room full of 'bad guys'. Haha! Winter gave way to Spring, so we could finally put away our winter clothes and get back outside. As everyone started wearing appropriate clothes for the warmer weather, it was obvious that several classmates changes were still progressing. Since many of the guys were starting to notice girls and conversely, girls were noticing guys, most of us to some degree or another became more self-conscious. It was just around this time while I observed my classmates' changes that I noticed some of my own strange developments. Before my brother and I started noticing girls, I had never given much thought to my unique plumbing down below other than the somewhat uncomfortable probing and odd follow up questions by my doctor during my annual checkups. But recently, the opening which I folded my penis into seemed to be getting deeper. In fact, I could even quite comfortably tuck my penis into the space and probably fit a whole other penis into the hole the doctor described as my vagina. I'd still have to pull my penis out of it's protective space when I needed to pee, but it seemed almost natural to tuck it back away under the space of my new extra skin folds. Then there was the extra sensitivity of the folds of skin around the slit of my vagina opening just below where I pulled my penis out. Neither my brother nor any of our guy friends from school ever really talked about this sort of stuff other than how much they liked the girl's in class with the bigger tits, so I sure wasn't going to bring up my own plumbing situation and telling Mandy about this was out of the question. If that wasn't enough, I had noticed that my areolas on my chest which were once the size of nickels, looked like they had grown in size, looking like they were larger than a quarter. Not only that, they started to raise out, puffing up from my chest. And if that wasn't enough, on top of that, literally, my nipples which were previously smaller than really skinny worn down pencil erasers, they had grown as well, past the size and shape of nearly perfect cylindrical shaped brand new pencil erasers. Even without looking at my nipples, I could tell there was a huge difference just by how incredibly sensitive they had become. At this point, I was certain that I couldn't hide these changes if I ever walked around without a shirt. Heck, my raised areolas and larger pronounced nipples already were noticeable if I wore some of my smaller shirts. No more small or thin material shirts for me after that. The following month I insisted that my mom made an appointment for me to see the family doctor for my annual check up. My doctor's appointment finally came, just a week before Easter break, and upon the conclusion of the doctor's checkup, he had some rather startling news for me. He said that these changes could continue to progress, but since my case was so rare and unusual, he couldn't predict what I should expect. He told me that even though these changes were not what I might have expected, they were occurring naturally with the onset of puberty. After sitting down with both my mother and I, my doctor instructed me to notify him if there were any additional developments. As you might imagine, the drive home from the doctor's office with my mom was one of the most silent and awkward experiences of my young life. All I could remember was my mom saying that everything would be alright and that her little football player was tougher than anything puberty could throw at me. It then hit me, I was just starting to like Mandy in ways besides being best friends. How would this now change things between us. I distinctly remember how agonizing it was dwelling on those thoughts the rest of the way home. As if I wasn't going through enough changes, Saturday morning a week after coming back from Easter break, I woke up screaming in bed. Actually, when I first awoke, I noticed that my bedsheets were damp, almost wet. After pulling back the covers, my sheets were soaked in a dark red colored stain. It looked like I had been steadily bleeding all night from a large wound. By the time my mom got to my room, I noticed that there was a trail of blood coming from the crotch of my boxer shorts. Panic didn't even describe how I felt that morning. If it wasn't for mom, I'd have been a total permanent wreck. First thing Monday morning, mom called the doctor to let him know about my latest 'development'. Summer vacation couldn't get here soon enough, but that also meant I'd spend more time with Mandy. It scared the heck out of me that she'd notice these changes. By the time we got out for summer vacation, I was forced to start wrapping my chest with ace bandages to hold my budding breasts back. By the last day of school, I could have worn an A cup bra. The obvious problem with this was that as a 'boy', I wasn't supposed to have two A cup breasts protruding from my chest. Swimming as an activity with Mandy was totally out. Heck, swimming around anyone was totally out of the question for this summer. I finally came up with the excuse that my skin had become too sensitive and irritated whenever I went in chlorinated pool water. As for concealing my latest developments, in addition to wrapping my chest in ace bandages as well as I could to even out and flatten anything that would be considered irregular for a guy in that area, I had to buy a bunch of new over-sized t shirts made from the thickest cotton weave possible. Despite coming up with what I thought were good excuses to avoid unnecessary exposure of my budding breasts to Mandy, we still managed to have a relatively normal and fun summer. I even managed to hide my changes from my teammates all the way through football season. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't keep this secret from my own brother. As careful as I was, he bumped into me one morning in the hallway before I could properly wrap my chest. His eyes bugged out as he could hardly believe how far my shirt tented out. By the middle of summer my breasts had already grown beyond A cups, with my areolas having grown wider than the top of a Red Bull can and my nipples growth kept pace with the growth of my new breasts. Our parents had long ago vaguely explained to Dave that there was something different about me but it was no big deal. Waking me from morning stupor after bumping into me, I wanted to yell at him to watch where he was going, but it was already too late, the damage was done. By then it had already struck Dave just how different I was, my brother was now in on my secret. I think he was just as embarrassed as I was the moment he stumbled onto this new revelation. After that, he wasn't going to say anything unless I did and that was fine by me. By the time football season was over, more changes had manifested, both of the physical variety and the kind that affected our entire family. Towards the end of football season, I began noticing how my uniform pants were tightening as I labored pulling them all the way up. It was especially noticeably tight as I pulled my pants on when I got to my hips and derri?re. I knew that I wasn't getting fat since I was only becoming fitter and more toned from all the football practices and games, but I was gaining disproportionate size in my chest and hips. I knew that soon I wouldn't be able to hide all of these new changes without constantly dressing in excessively baggy clothing. No sooner than I noticed these latest changes, my parents informed my brother and I that my father's company needed him to move closer to the home office by the beginning of summer for an important long term company project that he was in charge of. My world was already in chaos and now this. Mandy took the news harder than I did. In a way, I felt a little relieved by the coming change of venue, since it would give me a chance to keep my secret from the people at school who knew me growing up these past six, seven years. I told Mandy that we'd keep in touch by phone, facebook and texting, but that was little consolation to her. I suspected that she felt much the same way about me as I felt about her. But as things were turning out, I told myself that our feelings wouldn't matter because of the way things were changing in my life. In hindsight, I probably should have told Mandy about what was happening, but puberty can be unnerving for most normal kids, and I certainly didn't consider myself normal anymore by any stretch of the imagination. After my brother and I finished packing the last of our belongings, Mandy and I spent my last day in California together, mostly in silence hanging our legs over the side of the tree house looking down into our backyards as we had done more contentedly countless times before over the last 5 years. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't think of any positive way to frame this somber day. Just before we parted for the evening, still appreciating our final sunset of our childhood tree house sanctuary, Mandy leaned over and pressed her lips against mine, kissing me as deeply as any movie couple had in a gushy love scene that I could recall. My heart immediately panged as I thought that this would be the last time I'd ever see or be this close with Mandy. That night was not a very restful night, quite the opposite really, my mind spinning in a jumble of chaotic thoughts and bittersweet emotions. I don't think I fell asleep until an hour before we were supposed to get up for our trip half way across the country to our new home. All I could think of was Mandy and then how I'd adjust to all of the changes, let alone our new home. Locking the door on our old house for the last time, Mandy walked up to say her final goodbye. She hugged my parents and my brother Dave before giving her last goodbye to me. I was still a little groggy from lack of sleep, but worst of all, I had done such a poor job wrapping my breasts that morning, my ace bandage slipped down allowing my nearly B cup breasts to rub through my shirt against Mandy's breasts. Despite all of the emotion we felt because of the occasion, I knew the sensation of my breasts rubbing against hers had to have registered in her mind. At the very least, I knew she was a little confused by the unexpected physical stimulation. It really bothered me for a long time after that day how I felt that this was going to be our final memory of each other together. Once we were on the road for a few hours, our parents took turns driving so we could arrive ahead of the moving vans. Somewhere in New Mexico, we pulled over for our 2nd fill up of the trip. We all got out to stretch, relieve ourselves and recharge with some form of caffeinated beverage. I offered to go in and do the shopping and pay for the gas, as long as dad was buying. After I grabbed four Red Bulls from the refrigeration unit and brought them to the register, I paid for the drinks and gave the clerk 50 bucks to put on pump 5. He responded, "Okay Miss, will you need anything else today?" I was almost speechless when it registered what the clerk asked me. He wasn't joking or being sarcastic. He was serious but polite. After delaying my response for what seemed like a lingering eternity, I snapped out of the sudden shock to my ego simply replying, "No, thank you." I was already quiet for the first half of our trip, but after the innocent mistake by the gas station clerk, my mind was awash in thought, about who I was and who I would ultimately be when we got to our new home in Dallas. Could I still introduce myself as a guy, the boy I had learned to be during my first 13 years in this world, to our new neighbors or my new classmates and teachers? Starting your freshman year of high school is traumatic enough, let alone in a brand new city with no friends, but how do you go from proud stud wide receiver to brand new scrub freshman chick? This major dilemma was a little too much for me to sort out in just a day on my own. A little over 100 miles outside of Dallas, we made our final gas and rest stop. As we got out of the car, I pulled mom aside. I couldn't wait until after we got to our new home and still not have some answer as to how my parents would introduce me to our new neighbors. "Mom, on our last gas stop, the clerk called me 'Miss'." I managed to stammer with a little embarrassment. "I didn't correct him since I wasn't sure that he was technically wrong. I'm still me, but without some major medical procedures, I don't think I can consistently pass for a guy much longer. What should we do?" I'll never forget the choked up look on her face as she tried to give me a brave, confident and consoling answer. "Chris, honey, we don't have to decide anything right now or today. After we finish the hard and stressful work of moving everything into the new house, we can talk with your dad and your brother too if you want, then you can decide how you think you'll feel most comfortable moving forward. How does that sound to you?" I just nodded 'Okay' acceding my consent. The rest of the drive was a blur, by the time we finally arrived at our new home, I had just snapped out of my trance-like state. After about 22 hours drive time on the road, not including rest stops and eating a meal at a Sonic somewhere in New Mexico, we made it. Now came the fun part, unpacking. I managed a little enthusiasm grabbing my luggage and then rushing to claim the center upstairs bedroom overlooking the pool and patio. The movers pulled up about an hour after us, almost like clockwork. By mid afternoon, all the heavy furniture and packages were either moved into their final rooms or stacked up against the wall in the garage. Looking at about 6 fully packed large boxes of clothes and miscellaneous belongings sitting in the middle of my new bedroom, I shook my head wondering if I should even bother unpacking half of my clothes, not sure if I'd even wear most of them again. I began rummaging through my clothes sorting out my largest t shirts and then putting them into my dresser drawers. Next, I pulled out all of my sweat pants, long and short, along with the rest of my exercise clothes, then put them away into my dresser drawers as well. Finally, I opened the boxes marked with my linens and bathroom toiletries and began organizing my bathroom so that I could end the day cleaning up with a nice hot relaxing therapeutic shower. I practically ripped off my sweat soaked clothes that I had been wearing since the previous morning. I couldn't get out of my clothes fast enough. Soon the shower was just the right temperature and I began rinsing off 2 days of nearly unbearable Southwestern summer heat along with stress I never imagined before these earth shattering changes ripped into my life. Lathering up, I began to clean every rounded surface and crevice of my changing body. Did I say rounded surfaces? I've pretty much been a bean pole most of my early youth up until last summer. Sure I was busy cleaning myself, but running my hands over my body while washing up gave me the opportunity to take stock in just how differently my own body felt to me now as I ruminated more about it. Looking through the glass shower door into the large bathroom mirror, my ass looked almost like two halves of a sphere split in half side by side about the same circumference of a volleyball. I was still tall for my age, heck when I was at the doctor for my check up last month before we left, he measured me at 5' 10" and a half inches tall. I was already a half inch taller than mom! Of course Dave was still ahead of me, just fractionally above of 6 feet even. My brother seemed to continue to fill out like you'd expect a young man would, wider shoulders and thicker everywhere. On the other hand, I was still really thin, but also still really toned, retaining my sinewy strength from all the sports we played, despite my ass and breasts continuing to pack on extra fleshy yet firm tissue at their seemingly accelerated rate. Rinsing off the last of the soap, I turned the valve closed, grabbed a towel and got out of the shower. Drying off, I started looking at myself in the mirror. I mean really looking at myself, as if I hadn't seen myself in ages, in a sense, I really hadn't. Even though I still recognized my face, what I saw looking back at me was undeniable. My eyes looked proportionally larger than I remember and even my eye lashes were thicker and longer than I could remember. With the chaos associated with planning for the move, I missed a few months of routine visits to the barber shop. When I pulled my hair straight, it went way below my neck, almost all the way down to my shoulders. My facial features seemed more rounded, not chubby, but simply softer. Speaking of softer, my lips looked like they had plumped up comparatively in size to what they once were. It then struck me, after examining my face, I looked a lot like my mom in some of her early modeling photos when she was really young. Turning my attention just below my neck, the increased size my breasts almost mesmerized me. From my limited knowledge of bra cup sizes, I determined that my breasts (it still sounds so weird saying 'my breasts') were probably B cups or maybe bigger!?? They had grown to be just slightly less than a complete handful. My areolas were still the size of the top of an energy drink can but my nipples now seemed slightly thicker and longer than a brand new pencil eraser. I was not even close to the same boy I was a year ago. Lifting my hand to my face, I could feel how soft and sensitive my skin was. Moving south below my neck, I ran my hands over my breasts, cupping them to feel their texture and weight. I almost moaned as I suddenly felt a seemingly slight electrical tingle when I brushed my nipples. Snapping out of my momentary erotic bliss, I looked further down below my breasts focusing on my crotch. I could still pull my dick out and use a urinal like I always had before, but increasingly when I didn't need my dick to pee, I generally tended to keep it tucked away into the perfectly undetectable orifice, which seemed almost tailored for my body and was practically integrated into my girl vagina. Whatever the tissue was where the base of my penis was attached, it was pliable enough for me to move it in and out of the extra orifice within my vagina. The front of my crotch was perfectly flat and smooth except for the wisps of hair above my Venus mound. More noticeable than ever before, my waist tapered very narrowly where it met my hips, creating a lean hourglass shape starting from below my shoulders going down to the bottom of my butt. My hips really stuck out now contrasting with my narrow waist. Looking over my shoulder, my ass looked like an upside down heart, even more so than Mandy's ass. As overwhelming as these discoveries had been, I shut off the bathroom vanity mirror lights and headed for my freshly made bed. After squeezing my boxer shorts over my hips, I shut off the bedroom lights and slipped into bed. Before shutting my eyes in bed, I resolved to set up my computer tomorrow and do as much gender specific physical anatomy research on line as time and privacy would permit. If I'm going to decide what to do next, I had to know for sure all the details about what I was choosing between. As I started dozing off, my thoughts alternated between my last goodbye to Mandy and the short startling conversation I had with the gas station clerk. Wow, what a crazy couple of days it's been.