The Wind Of Change free porn video

The Wind of Change Connie and I had been married for a little over 18 months when the news broadcasts first warned of the impending collision of two asteroids which were both projected to miss Earth by something around a million miles. There was allegedly little to no danger projected to be present according to the so-called expert astronomers but they did say we would be able to see the collisions aftermath in the evening skies a few days after the collision. Okay, so why should we care, I wondered... little did I know as it all turned out. But back to Connie and me, we've been in love since high school but decided to wait until we both graduated from college before getting married. As things turned out however, Mother Nature intervened and propriety required me to make an honest woman of her soon after we found out she was carrying my child, a beautiful little baby girl who was born just short of nine months after the ceremony. Connie regained her voluptuous figure within a month or so and as soon as she got the okay from her doctor, we picked up right where we'd left off a bit over two months earlier. Oh sure, nighttime feedings intervened and made it difficult for us to do all we wanted to do at times but we did the best we could. Speaking for me personally, I made Connie a pledge soon after we were married that I would get up with her each night when she informed me of her intention to nurse our baby for at least the first six months. As I'm sure you can figure the time, it was about three months after Connie had weaned little Bethany from her breast that the news first came out about the asteroids. Since there was no danger to the Earth; we, like most other folks we knew, paid little to no attention to the upcoming event until it got closer to the time of the impending pass-by and then only to make sure we watched the show in the nighttime sky on the night it was to take place. As things turned out, it occurred just before dusk and we could see little of the fireworks show when it happened. Only a week or so later the word came out that we would pass through the debris field left after this rather momentous astrological event and that the effect would likely produce a show in the night skies unparalleled in history. And it turned out to be even more spectacular than predicted as the night skies were lit up for three weeks, turning night nearly into day as the immense cloud of cosmic debris left by the collision as it entered Earth's atmosphere and burned up from the friction. This synopsis is of the events leading up to the aftermath of the collision and how it affected not only the lives of me and mine but also the lives of everyone else on this Earth. +++++ Life had pretty much returned to normal until about three months had passed and then reports began to surface, only as rumors in the early stages, but eventually these rumors started being reported as facts on the evening news programs. From the evening programs, and then the morning news shows and then to dire warnings coming from Congress and eventually from the President himself... it was confirmed. That cosmic debris cloud the Earth had passed through was having an impact of the human race by causing mutations of kind never before imagined. Everyone was being affected, it seemed, and it was the effect itself that was the most startling aspect. It was now official, every man and every woman alive today either already had or would soon experience this effect. The effect in question was simple on its surface but devastating in its impact; every man and woman, boy and girl would eventually either lose or gain one aspect of their sexuality. Women and girls might lose their breasts and become as flat chested as men or they may lose the reproductive organs only to gain in their place, those of a man. Men may develop breasts or they might instead lose their male parts and in their place develop the female version of reproductive organs. As I'm sure many other couples did many times over during the few months that followed these official pronouncements, Connie and spent many hours together talking and worrying about our future relationship and how it would survive as these changes came upon us. How would we deal with and survive the emotional strain each of us would have to bear let alone the physical? Would we even be physically compatible? What would we do if, for example, Connie lost her breasts and I developed them instead? Or worse, what if we became physically incompatible by her developing male genitalia and I got a pair of boobs? This would have us married but both with male genitalia. Or what if I got the female parts and she kept hers but lost her breasts? Not only is there not enough known about these changes thus far, neither is there even the slightest chance of predicting how any two people will be affected. Vowing to do all we can as time passes to remain the loving couple we've been and to stay together in spite of how we each turn out, I'm sure we both know but prefer to leave unsaid the eventual consequences of physical incompatibility. The continuing passage of time soon brought into being a series of telltale signs everyone could look to in comparing themselves with the stated indicators that were the known precursors of one's impending changes. I discovered, much to my chagrin in doing so, the first sign of my change the Saturday morning I took my fifth daily measurement of my waist and hips. The loss of ?" around my waist had moved down and was the exact same gain I found on my hips. Oh crap! I hope this is just a temporary shift and not indicative of what I think it may mean. But within the next week or less it was pretty much forgone conclusion, my hips were spreading and my waistline reducing as my lower body made itself ready for the reproductive receptacle I would eventually develop with all that accompanies such an organ; a birth canal and all the associated internal organs... I'm going to lose my male package and have my very own baby-making equipment instead. Son-of-a-BITCH! I told Connie of my conclusion as soon as she was up and about (she usually sleeps later than I do on weekend mornings) and her reaction was almost ecstatic as she told me she had reached her own conclusion this morning too, and that our worst fears weren't going to be realized, we would remain physically compatible because it looked as though she would be developing male parts that would allow us to remain together and sexually paired. After Connie made breakfast for us while I got Bethany up, changed her diaper and got her dressed. We sat around the breakfast table trying to enjoy being a family on a day we both know to be one of an unknown number left to us as we currently are. As a way of ignoring our own impending changes, we talked instead of how clothing fashions and public mores will be affected. I started it by saying, "The guys who grow boobs are going to have a hard time, I would think, finding bras that will fit their larger frames." Connie responded saying, "And think of how it will affect the cut of their suit coats, they'll have to have darts in them. That's what the cut is called in women's clothes that allow room for our boobs." "Uh-huh, and women's suits will have to be altered, too, to remove the darts as you call them if they've lost their breasts." After discussing the changes that'll occur in fashions for those affected above the waist, we finally turned to those below the waist, the ones that are soon to affect us. "With the changes that are taking place in our waistlines and hips, I think we're both going to have to spend some money on new clothes." Connie pointed out. "Yeah, to say nothing of what will lie beneath them," I add. "We'll likely have to think about new underwear, too, don't you think"? "Right", she says, "and who knows the direction fashion may lead in this region." "Such as?" I ask her. "Well, what if some men decide to wear skirts? Or hose? What if that's the trend fashions take, for guys with pussies to wear skirts and girls with male parts to wear either skirts or pants? What if some guys chose to shave their legs and some girls decide to stop shaving theirs?" "True. And we don't know yet if our legs will change along with our genitals. What if you get a man's legs and I get those of a woman? "Hey, if I end up with the legs of a man, I'll never wear a skirt or dress again and yes, I will keep on shaving them, regardless!" Teasing her then, I comment only half seriously, "I wonder how I'd look in a mini skirt, hose and high heels?" With that comment the discussion turns from the sublime to the ridiculous as we project our impending changes on into the future and to the most fantastic eventualities we can think of. Later in the day, after Bethany's nap, we decide go for a walk in the park nearby and to continue to talk about our future. One thing we soon agree on is that with the coming changes there will be a period of time when we'll be unable to continue making love, this while our bodies are in the in-between stages of reforming our genitals. Accordingly and in the meantime, we agree to take every opportunity we can muster to build memories of the way things are now. I.e.; we're going to make love every chance we have. ++++ The day we've each dreaded finally arrived last night; Connie and I were unable to consummate our marriage when I failed to gain a sufficient erection and we also found she was, shall we say, closing up. By this point in time, it was becoming fairly well known that the actual transition for folks like us who were losing our birth genitals and were having them reformed into what had been those of the opposite sex needed about two weeks to get through the physical upset this caused for their systems, the nausea, discomfort and so on. Those who were undergoing changes above the waist suffered no such disabilities and were thus exempt from the now Congressionally Mandated leave time from their occupations while they suffered through these discomforts. By this time, my waist and measurements were fairly well over and done with, my waist line now a svelte 24" and my hips what seemed to me to be grotesque 37". The slacks I've been wearing could only be found in the ladies departments in the stores and were far too tight in the crotch area to be at all comfortable if I bought the sizes that fit my hips and waistline so they're all too big for me. Connie, on the other hand, was able to wear men's pants with relative ease, although the extra room they provided in the crotch was merely superfluous material until her groin was fully transformed. One additional question was also answered during the two weeks we were off work, my legs did change and become more feminine while Connie's stayed the same, very nicely shaped and turned, as feminine as always. Underwear as a problem was solved temporarily by the purchase of a dozen or so of stretch cotton panties in size six for me and size five for Connie. The stretchy aspect was sufficient to hold my privates with relative comfort in the beginning stage (while I still had my package) and would hold hers in a similar manner as she developed. After it was all over for each of us, we would decide individually what we would wear beneath our outer clothing. As we began the proscribed two week period, we soon discovered it was nearly impossible for either of us to wear any underwear whatsoever, the regions in question being way too sensitive and tender. By Wednesday of the first week, we were fairly certain Bethany's changes weren't going to occur between her little legs and so we "farmed her out" to Connie's parent's for the duration. Nudity became the uniform of the day for most of the following couple of weeks, ending only when our extreme sensitivity and tenderness finally went away. During this time, Connie and I took advantage of the time alone to educate each other as to our future health care and sanitary needs. I, of course, needed the most information and education because in many ways I was going to have to deal with matters totally foreign to my experience. You know what I mean; yeast infections, gynecological examinations, monthly menstrual cycles, birth control and so on ad infinitum. Connie, on the other hand, would need to be aware of doing regular testicular self exams, undergoing prostate tests and exams and so on. I'll not go into any great detail of the discomfort and nausea we each experienced nor of the various aspects of the transformations we each endured, suffice it to say the time off work was necessary and appreciated for although none of what we endured was grossly unpleasant, neither was it something that would have been easily suffered through in public. We both had one day of rather severe cramps, thankfully not the same day so we were able to care for each other. I think, and it was later confirmed by doctors, that these days occurred while our internal organs were either absorbed in Connie's case or formed as it was in mine. She lost her uterus and ovaries by absorption and contrary to some popular TG Sci-Fi stories, her ovaries did not descend to become her testicles and neither did my testicles ascend to become my ovaries. My internal reproductive organs simply formed from who knows what internal sources while my labia seemed to be formed from the skin of my scrotal sacs much as Connie's testicles were formed within the skin that had comprised her inner and outer labia, and neither did my penis become my clitoris nor did the opposite occur for her, each organ we developed appeared to grow "from scratch" as it were. By the end of the two week "vacation", something else unexpected seemed to be the case for both of us, neither of us ever regained any pubic hair whatsoever. And, I must say, what we each ended up with were what we did agree were pretty magnificent specimens when in came to how best to describe our new genitalia. Connie's testicles are large and tight, her penis more than adequate to the point of scaring me somewhat with it's length and thickness; 7" long and nearly an inch and ? in diameter when she was erect. I, on the other hand, had the sexiest, cutest little camel-toed pussy one can imagine, one I would never have wished for and didn't like having at all. It wasn't until a month had elapsed, the month Connie and I had previously agreed we would use solely to get used to having the new parts we now possess while we also abstain from trying them out physically. And there was one hell of a lot to get used to, too. In her case, all the new stuff dangling from in front of and between her legs, learning how to stand to pee without making a mess on the seat and floor and how to sit and cross her legs without causing her extreme discomfort if not pain. On the other hand, I had to learn to remember to put the toilet seat down first, how to wipe from front to back and to get used to crossing my legs around my now empty crotch which isn't as easy as it might seem. Connie also gave me a "crash course" on douching, the uses of sanitary pads and tampons and when each was best suited for use or wear. Also the importance of wearing clean panties every day, the benefits of panty liners and more than I ever thought I might want or need to know about the different styles of panties that are available to wear. Like most others in similar situations, Connie and I returned to work at the end of our two weeks and much to my surprise, there was no razzing or similar hazing from any of my male or female co-workers. As it had been earlier decided in workplaces across the Nation, the use of bathrooms at work were to be determined by one's genitalia rather than by their outward appearances and thus I had to get used to going into the ladies room to pee, yet another aspect of my new life that I had to get used to quickly. Obviously, between the appearance of breasts on some men and the lack thereof on some women in conjunction with restroom usage, it was soon widely known by everyone exactly we had each undergone. Also, it was soon apparent that while some women gained male appendages, they kept their breasts. And to the contrary, all the men who gained breasts kept their male packages Thinking about these combinations of change, I came up with the following possibilities: For men: 1. Genital exchange, from male to female. 2. Breasts development, retention of male genitals. For women: 1. Loss of their breasts. 2. Genital exchange, breast retention. So, as Connie put it to me after we went over this during dinner one night while still in our self-imposed period of sexual abstinence, we have become a race of innies and outies, with breasts and external male genitals or with no breasts and internal female genitals. Jokingly but with more truth to it than either of us suspected at the time, she said, "So I guess I'll be stuck breast feeding our next baby, too." As the end of the aforementioned month of abstinence drew nearer to its close Connie and I began to tease each other about the sensations and experiences we were having with our new genitals. More like griping about them than anything else. I was dreading the onset of my first period, due now in less than a week while Connie was complaining about how her penis seemed to have a mind of its own, erecting without warning at times most embarrassing to her. In that vein, I griped about how wet I got at times, always without warning it seemed and I 'm not referring to when I had to pee. She called it "that gushy feeling" and told me it was how women react to sexual stimuli or thoughts, their bodies preparing themselves for entry. Now I can't tell you of all, let alone any part of, Connie's innermost thoughts and feelings about what has happened to her because we simply didn't share many of them with each other. I can, however, tell of you of some of the aspects I had to learn about and deal with relative to the changes I underwent. I had to buy new shoes for one thing... my feet shrinking in size and width to better match the new shape of my legs as they became feminine. I also found I couldn't stand having hairy legs any longer, something to do with the shape of my legs I guess, hairlessness going much better with the new look of my legs but more particularly with the lack of hair on and around my pubes as Connie's taught me to call my pussy. Then there's the matter of what I wear now in the way of underwear, what used to be women's panties. I've also learned the benefits of all the styles I now have available to wear in this arena, up to and including thongs. I think the hardest aspect of all, so far at least, has been trying to get used to the total emptiness in my crotch... I mean there's nothing external down there now and believe me, it's been very disconcerting to try getting used to the flat smoothness. Then there's the fact that the only style of pants that fit me at all nowadays are those that used to be for women only, wide enough to accommodate my wider hips and yet more narrow waistline. This is to say nothing of how hard it's been to get used to wearing pants that fit so snugly against my pubes; I kind of miss the roominess and freedom of my old men's pants. At least I didn't develop what guys used to call a "ghetto booty" which is we all called an oversized ass. I've also had to get into the habit of taking my birth control pills every day, something our doctor recommended I start doing as soon as my change was complete so I'd have the required first month of the regimen in place and thus could safely assume I wouldn't get pregnant soon after Connie and I resume having sex. To say this aspect scares me wouldn't be an understatement either, the very thought of her sticking that big dick of hers deep inside of me scares the hell out of me. And yet, there's another part of me that's finding it harder and harder to fight off the near craving I feel for her. But we have to wait, maddeningly, until I've had my first period so we're sure everything is working properly. In the meantime, we've both resorted to that ages-old method of relief known as self-pleasuring, through which I've discovered that orgasm with these parts is even better than it used to be with what I used to have down there. Oh sure, it takes a lot longer to get there but when I finally do, wow. But then again, life in general hasn't really changed all that much in spite of everything. We both get up, dressed, eat breakfast that Connie fixes and head off to work. I still shave my face everyday, she continues to do her makeup, she goes to her beauty salon and I to my barber, she cleans and cares for the house and I take care of the yard. I guess that on the surface, the only thing that has changed about wither of us, at least on the face of our lives, is the cut and style of our pants. Hers are more manlike in their cut, fit for her smaller butt and slightly thicker waist while mine are fit for my new figure, wider in the hips and butt and narrower around my waist. But similar changes have taken place for a lot of people and it's really quite surprising to me how easily almost everyone we know has adapted so easily to whatever changes have taken place in their lives. At least in our case the only visible aspect of our changes are reflected in the styles of our pants while some of the couples we know have had to adapt to the girl losing her boobs and the guy to gaining a pair of his own. In some ways, that may be easier for the guy that what's happened to me, all he has to get used to is wearing a bra and having those things get in his way sometimes whereas guys like me will now have to deal with monthly periods and the possibility of getting pregnant. Yes, I have thought about the possibility and my feelings about it are very mixed and confused. Connie and I have talked about it a lot, too, especially lately with my first period approaching. We both wanted to have two kids but now I'll have to be the one carrying the baby inside of me for nine months, I'll be the one with the protruding, growing ever- large belly and it'll be me lying with my legs spread apart in the labor and delivery room. And yet, even though the whole concept of it being me that'll live through all of this is so foreign, so unreal because I didn't grow up with the idea I would be the one going through this, there is a part of me that's willing...no make that read almost anxious to do it. Just as there's a part of me that wants to be with Connie and have her inside of me, there's also a certain desire, almost a need, to have baby growing inside of me. Damn these female hormones, they're really messing with my mind. At least I don't think I'm acting at all feminine on the outside, well... other than how I walk which I can't really help now. It's all because of how I'm built from my hips down and because of my wider pelvic bone that's necessary to accommodate the birth canal I got out of this deal. Sure enough and right on schedule, Monday morning of the week my first period is due, my visitor made its first appearance. No cramping, no nausea and only a slight feeling of being bloated at first, then I think it was around Noon when I made a trip to the ladies room to pee, I saw some spotting in my panties. Time to insert my first tampon for real, not just practice so I'd know the feeling as Connie had me do last week. With there being no way for either of us to know, me in particular, how heavy my flow might be, I also put a sanitary pad in place in the gusset of my panties before I pat myself dry and pull them back up. Now this is an interesting and yet very disconcerting feeling and it really drives home in my mind that there really is a baby maker inside my tummy. Making a note of the time so I'll know when to return to the ladies room to change my tampon, I return to my desk and continue working. One more change to go here at work, just before I leave to go home for the day. Tuesday, the next day, brings with it some mild but annoying cramps that last all day long which all fairly easy to deal with and have no real affect on my concentration. Wednesday turns out to be the day of my heaviest flow, just as Connie and my doctor predicted it would be on the third day and I have to lop an hour off the intervals between the times I change my tampons so I don't leak. By Saturday it's all over and finished for this month so I douche a couple of times to clean out any remnants and to make myself feel as fresh and clean as possible. Connie began to make her advances toward me during our trip to the grocery store that very afternoon, making sexy comments and innuendos the entire time we were in the store. I picked up the refill for my birth control pills and restocked my supply of sanitary protection from the same section of the store while we were there and trust me, she took every opportunity to remind me of our agreement to wait for my first period to end, noting that it now had many times over. I could see the boner she was suffering with, outlined as it was in her pants and remembered full well how it felt and the frustration that went it. I, on the other hand, was suffering, too. I had that "gushy feeling" the entire time we were in the store and I was really glad I'd thought to put a panty liner in my panties before we left the house. Another occurrence of note while we were in the store, I saw the first guy since Earth passed through that damn cloud that was wearing a skirt. I think that somewhere in the back of my mind I knew styles and what would be socially acceptable changes in fashion would eventually appear and this was one of the aspects of such changes I half expected. Women have always worn pants some of the time but rare was the man who have the balls to wear a skirt in public. Now that so many of us have lost our balls, I guess skirts for guys are an inevitable and to be expected acceptable change in fashion. As has been our habit for some time, since well before the changes came upon us and everyone else, Connie and spend most of the day on Saturday running errands and doing the things we haven't time for during the workweek. Also, as has long been our habit, we spend a lot of our conversation in sexual innuendo during those times we're not discussing matters of import. She frequently whispers to me how she's suffering with what I used to tease her about, "blue balls". Also now and then comes one or more comments about how uncomfortable it is for her having to deal with her raging erection. I just tease her in return, saying something to the effect that if she'll continue to be a good girl, I might be nice to her later that afternoon after we get home. It really feels good to get back to this game of verbal repartee and innuendo we've played since we've been married; we stopped doing it during the past month because we'd agreed to hold off having sex. Now that the barrier between us (my first period) has gone by the wayside, we're both anxious and yet apprehensive about resuming our relations. She wants me and I want her just as much if not more but we're both scared because it's going to be the first time for both of us and yes, also because our doctor says I really am a virgin with an intact hymen. What happened when we finally got back home is exactly what one might imagine, but only after we'd put the groceries and other things away that we'd bought. I'm not going to reveal any of the details save for one aspect, the loss of my virginity and the sensations I experienced during this, my first time having sex with a vagina. Suffice it to say that I was very ready physically by the time we got down to it, I was almost gushing and Connie entered me easily until her length found the resistance of my intact hymen. Cautiously and with a lot of love, she made sure I was ready before she took me hard and quickly, the momentary flash of pain quickly lost in the flood of sensations brought forth by having her fully buried deep inside of me. The orgasms I experienced were powerful and seemed to last forever as Connie skillfully kept me on the very precipice of my first for what seemed at the time to be forever, and then to keep me there for at least once more before she finally unloaded her sperm deep inside of me. Just that sensation alone, feeling her liquid heat filing my insides, took me right up to and over the edge one last time in what was the most powerful, the most explosive and moving orgasm of all, one I couldn't stop myself from expressing verbally as I cried out in relief and with overwhelming emotion. I later accused Connie of having unleashed a monster in me because I wanted it all the time thereafter, anywhere in the house and as often as she was able. We explored all the positions we could think of and all the ways our now vivid imaginations could dream up to give all the pleasure possible to each other. We tried and found we love oral sex, once we both put aside our initial hesitations. Anal was about the only thing neither of us enjoyed, my ass being exit only we soon agreed after trying it a couple of times. It just hurt me too much for it to be at all enjoyable. It was after my second period came and went that we started seeing more and more guys wearing skirts and after Connie talked me into trying them out around the house, I discovered why. A skirt makes for far quicker and easier access when those urges take over. Men in skirts soon became fashionable and with skirts came hosiery and slips. I was reluctant at first to wear them in public, let alone to work until several of my buddies at work started showing up in them and telling me how much they liked wearing them, something about the feeling of freedom they provided. Only a few men ever wore high-heeled shoes that I saw anywhere and then only the guys who were shorter than average. Most of the men I saw in skirts and hose wore flats or very low heels. I can still remember the first time I wore a skirt and hose in public, it was a Saturday when Connie and I did our usual thing of grocery shopping and errand running. She had talked me into wearing one of her old skirts that came to about mid-calf on me and was fully cut instead of being tight-fitting. Under it I wore a pair of pantyhose and a half-slip with a pair of new flats bought just for this purpose. Once over my slight embarrassment, I began to understand what my buddies at work meant about the feeling of freedom, wearing a skirt is almost liberating in a strange sort of way. The pantyhose were okay but I decided I wanted to try out the other versions of hosiery women have long had available to them; thigh highs and stockings with a garterbelt. There's just something about the constriction around my ass cheeks and the tightness in my crotch that comes with wearing pantyhose that I just don't find quite comfortable. Of course, I had to learn to keep my knees together when I was wearing a skirt and how to sit down in one by smoothing out the material under my butt. And bending over presented new challenges, too, as I discovered first hand why women squat down with their knees rather than bending over at the hips, in particular when one is wearing shorter skirts. As time passed and my periods came and went often enough that I began to accept them as part and parcel of my life, so too did skirts become a larger part of my wardrobe and with them, hosiery and half-slips. I never did take up the practice some guys began; carrying a purse just wasn't my thing. Like a lot of the guys I know, I bought skirts with pockets and on the days when I had to carry my sanitary needs, I just wore pants with cargo pockets and to hell with what anyone thought or how it looked. Big deal, I thought, half the people on this Earth have periods and everyone knows it so why should I care if they know it's my time of the month? So on those days when I had my visitor, I'd wear my cargo pants with my pads in the right leg pocket and my tampons in the left. Most of the rest of the time I wore a skirt, having come to love the sense of freedom they allow me to enjoy. And on the days I wear them to work the first thing I take off as soon as I get home are my panties, Connie loves to come up and take me from behind when I least expect it and I love it when she does so I make it as easy as possible for her by not wearing panties at home. The hemline on most of my skirts falls just above my knees and this is because I prefer thigh-high hose or stockings and a garter belt to wearing pantyhose. The only time I wear pantyhose now are when Connie and I go out on a "date" which is when she says she prefers seeing me in a shorter skirt because she loves it when I show off my legs. And it's on these "dates" that we both wear high heels, too, because we're almost the exact same height. I don't like them but I wear them because it pleases her so much, they hurt my feet. We're still acting like a couple of teenagers in heat, unable it seems to ever get enough sex and so it wasn't really a surprise when I was late the week before our first vacation. I didn't say anything to Connie because I wanted to know for sure so I stopped at a drugstore on my way home the day I should have been four days into my period and picked up two home pregnancy tests, just to be positive. Both were negative so I just chalked it up to the anxiety of getting ready for our trip but I made up my mind to keep checking until and unless my period finally started. Even though I've become very comfortable wearing a skirt, I chose a pair of pants to wear on the plane for our flight to Miami so I won't have to bother with my modesty. We've reserved a car so we'll have plenty of mobility while we're here and that's where go as soon as we've collected our luggage, to the rental counter to sign for and pick the car for the drive from the airport to the hotel where we've made reservations for our two week vacation. I'm going to change into a pair of shorts as soon as we get to our room and before we have lunch, then well go back up and unpack having previously decided to wait for later on in the afternoon so we don't get sunburned before we hit the beach to start working on our tans. Until we can get to a store down here, all we've done in the way of swimwear is trade the bottoms of two of Connie's suits for me to wear with a pair of my trunks and one of my Speedo's for her. After lunch and mostly out of curiosity, we head out to the pool area to scout it out and there we find the current fashions in swimwear for guys and girls is a bit different than we'd expected, actually much less than we'd expected in fact. Two piece suits for the girls, or I should say for those with boobs aren't much more than threads; tiny Speedo bottoms and a couple of small triangles of material that barely cover the nipples. Guys or those of us with vaginas are wearing even less... tiny little thongs that barely cover the area in question. Wow, talk about exposure! While unpacking and putting our clothes away, Connie says, "We really should get some new swimwear before we hit the beach, don't you think? I'd hate to look like a prude, which is how we'd look in the suits we brought with us." "Yeah", I agree, "guess we'd better go shopping first thing, don't you think?" "Uh-huh. But until then...." She says with a familiar gleam in her eye. "Yes?" I tease her back, knowing full well exactly what's on her mind. We began with me on the bottom at first but for the second go around; I took charge and rode her instead before we took a brief nap to recover. Waking up, we took a quick, shared shower and then got dressed again to go look for new swimwear. While Connie was looking the other way, I took one of my pregnancy tests and slipped it in the pocket of the skirt I was wearing that fits over my ass nicely but that has a flared skirt beneath it that comes to just about mid-thigh. It's kind of flirty and I'll have to be careful wearing it so I don't over expose myself but I love how it looks on me. Flat sandals and no hose, it's just too hot for them during the day down here, completes the outfit with the short-sleeved shirt I've chosen to wear with it. Connie's chosen a pair of Bermuda shorts and a tank top with a built-in bra because of the heat and a pair of simple pink flats that match her purse. She said she can simply pull the top down to try on the tops of the swimsuits and knowing her waist size, she can get by without trying on the bottoms. I, on the other hand, will be able to just lift my skirt up to try my suits on over my panties, something Connie's told me I should do for sanitary reasons. Who knows what the last person who tried them on had for their cleanliness habits, after all. Four stores and two hours later, we finally find suits we like and both of Connie's have Speedo-like bottoms while mine are also very skimpy to say the least, showing off my camel-toed pussy to anyone who may look close enough to notice as well as most all of my big ass. Stopping for a drink on our way back to the hotel, I head for the ladies rooms to pee and use that test again. Still negative and no spotting on my tampon either.... I wonder what's happening here. Well, I guess only time will tell. By the time we get back to our rooms, it's nearly 4:30 so we decide to hit the beach as soon as I've washed out both of my new suits in the bathroom sink. I'm just going to put one on wet, no big deal. Just in case, I change tampons too. It's easy to slip the suit on and slip it up into place, tugging it up tight against my pubes. One quick look at my reflection in the mirror and I can't help it, I darn near lose my nerve to appear in public with so darn much of me exposed. Oh what the hell, everyone else is wearing swimsuits this small, so why not, I think to myself. Turning to see if Connie's ready yet, I watch her reach into the bottom of her suit to position her parts more comfortably and I'm reminded of the many times over the years I had to do much the same thing. Surprisingly, I don't regret having lost the need to do so; the smooth, compact and totally internal space between my legs now does have its advantages. When she turns toward the door, I notice something about her new suit that I'd not seen when she picked it out, it's also a thong bottom and even though her ass is nothing like it used to be, the simple sight of her bare butt cheeks is more than a little bit exciting to me. Taking the special elevator designated to access the beach level directly, I'm carrying the hotel provided beach towels while Connie's carrying the small beach bag we found in the room with all the lotions and suntan preparations the hotel gives its guests. Finding a good spot about halfway between the breakfront and the water line, we lay out the towels and head straight for the water. Walking into the softly breaking surf slowly but purposefully, we both get far enough into the surf to where we're in up to about mid-torso. We play around a bit splashing and laughing like a couple of little kids before moving back to more shallow water and eventually the sandy beach where I sit down just at the edge of the incoming waves. Sitting side by side with Connie, we lean back on our hands and let the waves wash over feet and legs, just enjoying the warm water and hot sun. I part my legs slightly and the tide seems to be coming in as one wave after another gently breaks higher and higher along my legs until one breaks against my pubes ever so gently. Moaning softly in pleasure, my eyes partially close as I await the next wave... and the next... relishing the gentle stimulation even as I notice Connie's closed her legs even as I part mine a bit further. I can't help myself and laugh softly as I remember why she had to do so, these waves, gentle as they are, hitting against one's balls can be less than enjoyable. Getting up when the waves reach a point where they're too high on the beach where we're sitting to be comfortable, we walk back to our towels and lie down. I offer to put lotion on Connie and she says, "Okay, then I'll put some on you." We get up and shake the towels out to head back to our room when the area of the beach we've been laying on falls into shade as the setting sun moves behind the buildings of the hotel. Sharing a shower to wash off the suntan oils, one thing eventually leads to another and after an hour's romp on the bed, we get up again and start to get ready to go someplace for dinner. I have to use the bathroom to pee and clean my pubes, doing so while Connie starts putting her face on. Feeling especially "frisky" tonight, I chose a very lacy pair of bright red "boy shorts" panties to wear tonight and decide to wear the very nice looking, summer-weight skirt I bought just for this trip. Its full-cut style should be quite comfy in this heat and since it's lightly lined I won't need to wear a slip with it. What we've talked about doing on this our fist night in Miami, is to take the hotel's shuttle down to South Beach where we'll just walk around enjoying the sights, sounds and smells until we find someplace to eat. Accordingly, I'm going to need to wear comfy shoes like a pair of low-heeled wedgies. I think I'll wait and see what Connie wears, then decide which pair I'll wear. Having noticed something earlier today while we were out shopping for our swimsuits, I also picked up a couple of the nice-looking fanny packs a lot of the guys seemed to be wearing down here. They give us a place to put our "stuff" without spoiling the lines of our skirts by filling our pockets with all of things we need to carry. The shuttle having dropped us off about mid-way down Collins Avenue, smack dab in the middle of South Beach, our first destination is one of the sidewalk bistros where we can sit outside and have a drink while we people watch, one of our favorite things to do. Since South Beach is one of the trend-setting places for the country, the reason we want to people watch is to get an idea what people are wearing and how the two, or is it four, sexes chose to differentiate themselves fashion-wise. Connie and I are young enough for this sort of thing to matter to us, after all. Three Mohito's each later and feeling the effects more than slightly, we reach some conclusions that we talk about over dinner in a restaurant right across the street. Connie starts off the discussion by saying, "It looks to me like the former guys, like you, have really taken to wearing skirts." "I noticed that too. I think we've all come to like them for the same reason you said I would, the feeling of freedom. And all the formerly described girls, like you, seem to be retaining a lot of their old ways, like wearing makeup and jewelry." "Uh-huh, I noticed that too," she agrees. "But some of the guys seem to be getting into more daring clothes, like baring their tummys." Laughing, I say, "Yeah, but only the one's without beer-bellys. But did you notice that the guys with boobs really seem to be showing them off a lot more than the girls are?" "Oh yeah. And they all seem to be wearing men's style shirts that are cut and fit to allow for their boobs, too," she adds. "Well, most of them at least. I've seen a few wearing what look more like women's blouses than men's shirts." "Nah, I think those are just new styles, not really blouses. I do wonder about one thing, though... what are we all going to wear to more formal functions, like dinner at a nice restaurant." "True, and what are the styles going to be for business and work attire? You know, like business suits?" "Well, I know what I think they should be like; suits for everyone with both pants and skirts, only the tops being different so all us former guys can wear them with shirts and ties while you girls can stick with what you've always worn with a woman's suit." "That's a good idea and then we could each wear whatever shoes fit best with what we wear below the waist, flats or heels with a skirted suit or men's style shoes like loafers with pants," Connie suggests. "And then do much the same for really dress up affairs?" I ask. "I'm not sure, skirts aren't really fitting for formal occasions. What would you think might work, what would you like to wear to someplace fancy and dressy?" she asks me. "You know, I hadn't really though about this but you're right, a skirt with a shirt wouldn't be right. Maybe they're going to have to come up with something like a dress but with the top more like a dress shirt so we can wear a tie." "Loose above the waist and more form fitting below?" she suggests. "Yeah, that sounds good." "And the bodice, the part above the waist could either be the same color as the skirt portion or a complimentary or contrasting color." "I like that, maybe we should see about getting something such made from both of us, what do you think?" "I like it but girls will need something different. We could wear something like a man's tuxedo but cut to fit our bodies in the bodice region." "You just want to show off your boobs," I tease her. "Well... (Grinning at me), but seriously, bow ties just wouldn't cut it with a pair of boobies, now would it? How about this? Jacket tops, be they suit jackets or for tuxes, cut to show off our boobs and worn with something like a white or pale pastel scoop-necked shell beneath the jacket?" "And available with both skirt and pants bottoms." "No, I think for fully formal wear, they should only come with pants." "I think I'm beginning to get the picture of how styles are going to develop in the future... if you have boobs, you'll wear pants more often than not and with a vagina it'll be skirts more often than pants, especially in more formal situations and maybe even for business." "Kind of a role reversal, wouldn't you agree?" she asks. "To an extent, it sure seems that way," I agree. Suddenly laughing out loud, Connie asks, "I wonder if it will ever be fashionable for you guys to wear high-heels like all of us girls have worn for years?" "I sure hope not." I smile as I try to picture myself stumbling around in three-inch heels. "But you know something else that I've been thinking about lately?" "What's that?" she asks. "Boys and girls, men and women, don't really fit any longer when it comes to describing the sexes, do they?" "No, they don't, now that you mention it. Nor do the terms Mom and Dad." "I wonder what terms could be used now that would be more accurate and descriptive?" I ask. "In and outs?" she offers. "Withs and withouts?" "I really can't think of any terms that could be used and remain socially acceptable." "I think the old sex symbols would still apply, though." She drew them on a napkin to show me what she meant: (male) and (female). "They're more descriptive than any words I can think of," she says. "Well, you're right about that. They'd sure be more helpful and accurate for signs, like on restroom doors." "And in clothing stores, too, like department stores," Connie adds. "Speaking of signs on restrooms, I have to make a visit before we go." "Same here, meet you at the front door?" Sometime later, walking hand in hand along Collins Avenue, we have a grand time watching and commenting to each other about the various people we see; what they're wearing and how they're acting. One key observation we both make is that the former men all seem to have retained many of their more masculine gestures and the same goes for the former girls, only the way they walk seemed to differ. The former guys, like me, all walk now like girls used to; with a swing and sway in their hips and asses. The former girls, like Connie on the other hand, now walk more like men used to, more assertively and with longer strides while retaining all of their former feminine gestures and characteristics. It appears to both of us that how people walk now depends solely on what lies between their legs and the accompanying bone structure of their pelvises. The Innie?s, like me, all have that sexually seductive wiggle to their butts while the Outies, like Connie do not. It seems that it?s not anything conscious or intentional but rather a matter of how we?re put together below the waist. Agreeing after about an hour?s walking that it?s time for a drink or two and maybe dessert, we find another sidewalk eatery and I excuse myself to use the ladies room again. It?s time I change my tampon again and I also brought another one of those test thingies with me. I prefer using them where Connie won?t find them after I?ve used one; hence I only do the test in a public restroom. Tugging on the string to my tampon, I pull it out and take a quick peek? nope, nothing. Opening the package, I place it down where I can pee on it, do so and then dry myself, insert a fresh tampon, pull my panties back up and drop my skirt. Opening the stall and walking to the sink, I take my time washing my hands and combing my hair until the requisite amount of time has passed. Reaching back into my fanny pack where I put it earlier, I look and? oh shit, its positive! Hoping it?s just a false positive; I toss it into the wastebasket and decide not to tell Connie until I get three positive results in a row. After we?ve had a drink apiece, we resume walking and looking around at all the sights available after dark on Sought Beach before agreeing to call it a night. Heading back to the shuttle drop-off and pick-up site, we sit down and wait for it to make its way around its route to us. During the course of our two-week vacation, we did a lot of eating, sightseeing, drinking and general goofing off. Oh yeah, there was a lot of sex, too? lot?s and lot?s of sex. I finally told Connie about the tests I?d been doing after the third positive, showing it to her and she was ecstatic. I must admit I was too, partially due to her reaction but also my own even though I admitted to her that I was also scared to death. ?Hey, face it honey, I didn?t grow up with an awareness that I could get pregnant and have babies, I?m still getting used to being on the receiving end of things.? She laughed, not disparagingly but in sympathy, saying, ?I know sweetie. Believe me I do, I felt the same way when I found out I was going to have Bethany. And like you told me the day we found out for sure, I?m here for you, we?ll do this thing together.? ?I sure as hell hope so, baby,? I told her. ?Besides,? she teases, ?you?re going to look really cute in a maternity smock.? ?Oh shut up.? I grin at her. ?We?re going to have to call my former OB-GYN to make the final tests and get you started on all the vitamins and stuff, just like I had to do. Oh, and it?ll mean monthly GYN exams for you, too, I just know you?re going to love that part.? She giggles. And so it is that a week or so after we got back from vacation, Connie and I are sitting in the waiting room of her former OB/GYN waiting for me to be called back to one of the exam rooms. Per my request, Connie?s told me everything she can remember about what I can expect to happen including the part about lying on the table with my feet and legs up in stirrups and something called a speculum being inserted into my vagina to spread it open so the doctor can see inside of me. I remember that when Connie first found out she was pregnant with Bethany, we had to wait for several days for the nurse to call us with the confirming test result and I hope they?ve found a way to speed up the results since then. I also remember how Connie insisted she knew and didn?t need the test results to tell her what she could already sense. In a way, I think I know now how she felt about it at the time; I have no doubt in my mind either? I?m most definitely pregnant. The test was very similar the ones I took previously but involved my peeing into a cup which is a lot messier to do with a pussy than it is with a dick. The exam was just as Connie had said it would be? on the table, legs and feet in stirrups and a speculum stuck up inside of me so the doctor could see whatever she wanted to see. I have to mention something here? I felt like I was being spread apart for the world to see and that damn thing she used was COLD! When the exam was over, the doctor asked us to wait out front for a few minutes until we were called to her office for the results. Less than ten minutes passed before my name was called and we were directed to her office. After taking seats in front of her desk, the Doctor began by saying, ?Well, Mr. Richards, I have good news, you?re going to be my first male pregnancy patient since ?The Collision?, congratulations.? Connie and I turned our heads to look at each other and smile as I said, ?I knew it, just like you did with Bethany.? Then the doctor spoke again to say, ?While you?re going to be my first since ?The Collision?, you?re not, of course, my first ever so let?s go over some of the things you?re going to have to do to take proper care of yourself and your baby.? Nothing she told us was news to either Connie or me since Connie had to go through it all with Bethany but I listened intently anyway since this time it was me who was going to have to deal with it all. We talked about vitamins and early fetal development, when I might expect to start to show, nutrition and exercise? all the usual stuff. Then the doctor dropped the proverbial bombshell when she told us something we?d not expected. ?Information?s been coming into the U.S. from around the world about men like yourself who?ve become pregnant and there?s been an unexpected development reported. Mr. Richards, you will become, over the course of your pregnancy, capable of nursing your baby if you and Mrs. Richards so chose. All the information that?s come in thus far indicates that men like you do, over the nine months they carry their child, develop small but fully functional breast tissue. These male breasts have never been reported to exceed an A-cup in size and do return to their previously normal size after the baby?s been weaned. However, in spite of this return to their prior normality, your nipples and areolas will remain more feminine in size, sensitivity and appearance.? With two prescriptions in my pocket when we leave the doctor?s office, as well as a reminder card for my next monthly visit and exam, Connie and I find ourselves with a lot to talk about and discuss. Her disappointment nearly equals my excitement about who will be breast-feeding our baby. She had thought, and so had I, that she would be the one to do it, based on the well-known phenomena that two or more girls who live together would eventually come very close to having synchronous menstrual cycles. We had both thought that something similar would happen for this breast- feeding thing; that somehow my hormones would influence her breasts to prepare to do the nursing. ?Maybe there?s some way the doctor can prescribe something that would accomplish it medically.? I suggest. ?Oh, wouldn?t that be wonderful? I often thought while I was nursing Bethany how I wished you could experience the love and bonding with her that I felt while she was suckling me.? ?Do you want to know something? I wished then that I could have, too. Maybe with this baby we both can.? Since we have several months before we need to approach my OB/GYN with this request, we turn our immediate attention to more pressing matters; making a place in our home for the new baby and for me, starting to look into maternity wear. I?m going to have the same problem all women have had over time, covering my ever-expanding tummy with comfortable clothing but with the added difficulty of wanting to remain male above the waist until and unless my breast growth makes it too difficult to do so. Now, where to being my search for suitable clothes? ah yes, where else but the Internet! After finding several good sources, some with local outlets, my mind is eased and I turn it to the most pressing matter of all, the life developing inside of me and keeping myself the healthiest I possibly can during my pregnancy; proper nutrition, moderate exercise while I?m still able, all the prescribed vitamins and so on. One afternoon, maybe two weeks or so after my pregnancy?s been confirmed, Connie leaves the house without me to do some shopping for things we need around the house, leaving me alone to do whatever. It?s during this rare period of our being apart that my thoughts return to the utter improbability of my current situation were it to have occurred prior to the changes that most of the human race has undergone. I mean, come on? me ? a guy ? pregnant? My doctor?s best guess is that I?m about a month into this nine month odyssey so I don?t ?show? yet but there are still some big differences between how I look now compared to what I looked like before. During the course of this self-reflection, I get up from my computer desk and undress completely, intending to take a shower before Connie returns but when I spot my reflection in the mirror, I have to pause and my thoughts return to the previous topic one more. It?s almost as though my body?s been cut in half just above the waist, the changes taking place where my little pot belly used to be. Above that region, I look much as I always have; fairly broad chest and shoulders, masculine face and haircut, reasonably muscular arms and so on. It?s below this imaginary line that my previous thoughts of incongruity are now made manifest. A narrow waistline that swells out so pleasingly to much broader hips than those I used to have. My seemingly long, very feminine legs, at the joining of which lies that which is the most female part of this new me; my smooth, completely internal pubes. To say I have learned to appreciate and enjoy this new part of my anatomy would be a gross understatement; I?ve come to love it. Accepting that I now have to sit down to pee was not as difficult to learn as I might have imagined and wearing skirts like I now do most of the time makes it fairly easy to do so, too. There are any number of pros and cons to the changes I?ve undergone, of course, and just for the heck of it and before I go take my shower, I decide to begin compiling a list. Pros: Cons: The neatness of emptiness My periods Ease of crossing my legs Remembering how to wipe Wearing panties (comfort) Carrying tampons when I?m due Increased sensitivity The occasional smell if I don?t keep myself clean. Fantastic orgasms that last forever Sleeping on the wet spot (worth it) The sense of freedom in a skirt Keeping my legs hairless (not fun) The sensuousness of hosiery My bigger ass Being penetrated Occasionally wearing high heels Masturbation (albeit rarely) ?Creaming my jeans?, the wetness when I get aroused I may, over time, add to these but they?re all I can think of off the top of my head right now. And now, before it gets too late, I?m off to the shower. ++++++++ It?s been a couple of months since I made any notes in this, my diary. I?ve not started to show yet but I can tell my waist is starting to thicken by how my clothes fit. A couple of days ago I placed my first online order for maternity clothes, two skirts, a pair of slacks and four tops, all in preparation for the time when I?ll have no choice but to wear them. I?m not going to bother ordering nursing bras or maternity panties for two reasons; I have no idea if I?ll even need the former and I know I can do without the latter just by the styles of panties I choose to wear later. In some ways, I?m still finding it hard to believe that I?m actually carrying a baby inside of me but I think it?s because, as Connie has told me, so did she until she started to show and then felt the first few movements. I?m guessing it?ll be another month of two before I really start to show and will have no choice but to dress accordingly. Our OB/GYN said I should begin to expect movement around the fourth to fifth month so that?s still a month or so away. One thing I?m extremely grateful for is that I?ve not had any morning sickness whatsoever, one aspect of this pregnancy I was really afraid of experiencing. On the other hand, while no one could predict when, or if at all, changes may being to manifest on my chest; it?s already begun? nothing startling or even obvious; just a slight hardness directly under my nipples and some increased sensitivity. When I told Connie about it, she explained that my symptoms were similar to hers when her breasts first started to ?bud?. Although I had been told I should expect this to happen, it is still a bit disconcerting at first. That is until I thought about it some and realized the purpose behind the changes. From that point forward, I not only accepted but anticipated any further development that is to occur. It was about this time in my pregnancy, about my third month, that Connie told me I was starting to ?glow?, something she?d done when she was carrying Bethany. +++++++++ I?m in my fourth month now and I don?t know how much longer I can get by wearing my regular clothes. If my doctor is right, I?m going to ?pop? any day now; reaching the point in this pregnancy where my tummy suddenly makes itself too big to hide. Looking at my profile in the mirror before or after changing clothes or taking a shower, I can see the still small bulge this life growing inside of me is making. I?ve not felt any movement yet but we expect I will any day now. My chest is continuing to change too; small, conically shaped protrusions are pushing my nipples further away from my chest, my areola spreading wider and my actual nipples are starting to thicken and stick out a bit, too. Sensitive?? oh hell yes, maddeningly so in fact but I continue to refuse to wear a bra, even to protect them. If anything, our sex life has become even more frenetic over the past month or two, it?s almost as though my pregnancy has aroused an animal previously hidden inside Connie?s psyche. We make love at least once or twice every day, often right after we both get home from work, usually while we?re both still dressed with me leaning over the most convenient piece of furniture while Connie takes me from behind and then again when we go to bed for the night. The former usually satisfies our shared animal-like lust for each other while the latter allows us to express our love for each other. It?s during our time in bed that Connie has introduced me to the delights my budding breasts can provide by fondling them and sucking on them gently. Over the weekend, we take some time to go out for lunch and then take a walk in the nearby park. I?m wearing the loosest-fitting pants I own and while we?re walking along one of the paths hand-in-hand, I mention to Connie that this might be my last venture outside while wearing regular clothes. ?These pants are almost too tight for me to wear comfortably.? I explain. ?Getting too big in the tummy are we, husband dearest?? she teases. ?Yes, thanks to you.? I razz her back. ++++++++ Having a pot belly is nothing like being 5 months pregnant, as I?m finding out first-hand, and this is to say nothing of how it feels now that our baby?s moving around inside me. Thankfully I prepared for the time I?d have to switch to maternity clothes because it seems that one day I didn?t need them and the next I did. The elastic panels in the front of all my skirts and pants are reasonably comfortable but I still have a lot of extra room to grow into my shirts. I?m not sure I like having to wear all my shirts outside because I always tucked them in before but that?s not a very viable alternative now. There are times, however, mostly around the house and yard, where what I wear above the waist is along the lines of a stretchy tee-shirt that really emphasizes my still comparatively small but expanding tummy. Although there is a major part of my psyche t