Halloween For Life Chapter 22 (Timeline 1) free porn video

Chapter 22 - Halloween For Life (A Fan Fiction Continuation) As Jordan passed through the front doors to 'Destiny's Bride', immediately he was swimming through a sea of warm lighting, cascading sparkles of white and cream, and the pungent smells of lavender and roses. It felt like he was stepping into a foreign land. All around him were racks and racks of white bridal dresses, each on a separate padded satin hanger decorated with delicate silk ribbons of differing colors. The sheer variety of gowns was overwhelming. There were mermaid gowns which wrapped the body tight all the way to the knees, wide extravagant ball gowns with yards and yards of fabric and layers and layers of tulle petticoats, simple sheaths for the modern bride (or second marriages), and super-fashionable elegant A-line dresses which made their owners look smart and sophisticated. Mannequins were dressed and artfully staged in various corners showing of this year's designs, with dresses and trains spread across the floor like deep pools of white satin fabric dripping with beads and pearls. Large ornate gilded mirrors leaned against walls of sumptuous striped brushed fabric. Jordan's heels clicked on the expensive dark hardwood floors past comfortable-looking couches full of overstuffed pillows. 'Dear god, please have mercy on my soul and make sure no one sees me here,' Jordan prayed as he struggled to control his panic and flight instinct. The dresses which surrounded him felt like enemy soldiers advancing on him, wanting to wrap him up and kidnap him into an endless world of femininity. It felt that if he stayed too long, he might get lost in this silk and lace prison and never return. Jordan was wearing a cute black A-line dress with a wide lace hem (http://www.modcloth.com/shop/dresses/luck-be-a-lady-a-line-dress-in- black-and-lace ). Since Angela was gone when he woke up that morning (why had she left so early in the morning? Jordan wondered. He hadn't seen her all day, which seemed very strange), Tiffani had helped him dress and she paired it some elegant black kitten heels with an ankle strap (https://www.pinterest.com/pin/304907837245694145/ ). The heels showed more of Jordan's bare feet than he was comfortable with, he preferred pumps, but Tiffani assured him they were perfect for the dress ("and I love your feet, they are so graceful!" Tiffani enthused, "and don't bother with pantyhose, not with those shoes"). Tiffani had also helped Jordan with his corset. Jordan had been very hung-over at the time, recovering from the slumber party the night before, and so he gratefully accepted Tiffani's help. "Angela left a note," Tiffani explained, working the laces tighter. "'Be sure to help Jordan with her corset,' it said. You know, someone at the clinic could help you," Tiffani continued, referring to Jordan's corset. "If only," Jordan held his head, thinking that she was talking about his splitting headache. "But seriously. You would feel a lot more comfortable. Do you know Doctor Green? I hear he works miracles." "Oh yes. I've already been to Dr. Green," said Jordan, thinking about how Dr. Green had cured his illness the last time. "But I'm sure whatever they could do at the clinic would be too expensive for me. I'll be fine." 'Poor Jordan,' Tiffani thought to herself as she finished tying off the corset laces. 'He can't afford liposuction so he has to wear corsets every day. There must be some way I can help.' * * * Jordan looked around at the dresses and the shop feeling like a fish out of water. Was it his imagination? The walls appeared to be closing in around him. But just as he was about to turn and leave, someone approached. "Hi there! My name is Samantha. How may I help you?" Jordan looked nervously at the sales lady. She had long strawberry blonde hair, a wide smile, bright eyes and was dressed with a fashionable but comfortable looking belted grey linen dress. She looked like a woman with a keen eye for business. "I... uh..." Jordan halted. Jordan looked around, nervously. Jordan had time to kill. There was only one bus to this location in the afternoon, and so Jordan was in the area because he would be meeting Jason at the manufacturer's office later. And so he thought he might as well try and order Anna's new dress while waiting. But it meant entering RoseMarie's office building. Jordan had called RoseMarie's office early that morning to cancel his appointment, but the office was closed. 'We're closed on Thursday's and Sunday's' said the answering-machine message. Jordan had left a message cancelling his appointment anyway, just in case. "I understand you're nervous," Samantha said gently. She put her arm around Jordan's waist and gently but firmly led him deeper into the cave of femininity which was the bridal store. With each passing step, Jordan felt more and more committed. They passed a series of racks into an inner section which was more hidden from view. The racks this deep into the store felt even more overstuffed and enclosing. Jordan felt as if walls of fabric were pressing into him. "But it's okay," Samantha encouraged. "All new brides are nervous about dress shopping! It's nothing to be ashamed of. Now, who is the lucky man and when is your special day? I'm sure we can find just the perfect dress to make you look amazing." "Oh!" Jordan said, finally coming to his senses. "I'm sorry. The dress is not for me." "Are you sure?" Samantha looked at Jordan carefully. 'Goodness,' Samantha thought to herself. 'I've never seen any bride quite this nervous!' "Y-yes, thank you," Jordan said. "Actually, I'm shopping for my... uh..." Jordan almost said 'wife', but figured he needed to keep up appearances, "my sister," he finished. "Your sister?" Samantha looked at Jordan curiously. Obviously her customer was lying, anyone could see that. But lots of people bought wedding dresses for lots of reasons. Business was slow right now, and so Samantha was willing to play along. "You need a dress for your sister? Why is that?" "We had a fire in our apartment," Jordan explained, "and the dress was lost. She was devastated. And now I'm hoping that you can make a replacement for her. Here, I have a picture." "Well, that's a new one!" Samantha said, examining the picture. "Oh, I recognize this dress! It was a popular style some years ago. Are you sure you don't want a more modern style?" "No! Ah... I mean, I thought it would be best to replace this dress exactly. It was the dress she wore for her wedding, and she was heartbroken when it got consumed in the fire." "It'll take a little digging, but I'm pretty sure I can find one." "Oh, that would be wonderful!" "But what size?" "Uh..." Like all husbands, Jordan was absolutely clueless about sizes. "I don't know," he finally admitted. "Would she be about your size?" Samantha asked, cannily. "Oh! Yes," Jordan said, with evident relief. Problem solved! "I've worn her clothes before, just last week, in fact." That part was certainly true. "Excellent," Samantha said, trying her best to hide a smirk. "Candy?" An eager-looking younger woman with glasses and a clipboard stepped up. "Yes ma'am?" "Take down these measurements." Jordan spent the next 10 minutes standing and posing as Samantha expertly measured every possible dimension of his body, repeating the measurements to Candy who noted them in Jordan's file. (I have a file? At a bridal shop? Jordan fretted, suddenly freaking out about the paper trail he was leaving as Jordan Nicole). Samantha ran the tape measure around his waist, complimenting Jordan on his waist training, then measured across his hips, down each arm, and around his hips, her light fingers brushing against his body as she worked. Jordan gasped as Samantha reached up into his crotch to measure his inseam. He was glad for the gaff and hoped she didn't notice anything bulgy. For about the 99th time he was actually glad he was no longer getting erections, since all of this intimate touching was definitely having an effect! As Samantha reached the end of her measurements, Jordan began to relax. He was going to get through this after all. Just another measurement and he'd be able to get out of this building and... "There you are!" Jordan spun around. "RoseMarie!" He squeaked. "What are you doing here?" "This is my office building, remember? And I saw you through the window over there," RoseMarie pointed to a window to a side-corridor that Jordan hadn't seen until just now. "But... but... your office is closed on Thursdays." "Well, technically that's true. Except by special appointment, and there is no appointment more *special* than yours! Samantha, how's business?" RoseMarie gave Samantha a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Doing great, Mrs. Coleman," Samantha smiled, returning the kiss. Being business owners in the same building, Samantha and RoseMarie often had lunches and after-work drinks together. "And what are we doing here?" "Jordan here is looking for a dress for her sister," Samantha explained. "That's right," Jordan nodded to RoseMarie, hoping and praying that Samantha wouldn't reveal anything more. "Samantha is measuring me since Anna and I are about the same size," Jordan added. "I see." As a trained psychologist, RoseMarie could easily see that Jordan was nervous and lying. 'Oh Jordan,' RoseMarie thought to herself. 'You are such a bad liar!' Also, RoseMarie noticed Samantha's skeptical look. Clearly Samantha thought that Jordan's lie about buying a dress for her sister was counterfactual. And so RoseMarie came to the obvious conclusion, which was that Jordan was shopping for a wedding dress for herself! The thought made RoseMarie smile. Here Jordan was already shopping for wedding dresses, and she hadn't even been on her first date with Matt! 'Oh, she's got it *bad*,' thought RoseMarie, just assuming that anyone who knew her son and was shopping for bridal dresses was already thinking ahead to the wedding day. "Well, Jordan, if you are done here, let's go up to my office," RoseMarie motioned. "Oh!" Jordan, looked between Samantha and RoseMarie, feeling panicked. "Go ahead, we're done here!" Samantha said, gaily. "I'll locate the dress and then I'll call you when we've found it. We can work out the details of the financing at that time." "Oh, okay. Thank you, Samantha," Jordan said. Hearing this exchange gave RoseMarie an idea. Perhaps she should pay for Jordan's dress? * * * Outside the shop, Jordan tried to get out of the hypnotherapy session. "RoseMarie," Jordan protested, "I don't think I need another session. I haven't smoked at all since our last session." "Jordan, are you a trained hypnotherapist?" "No..." "Trust me. No one is cured in only a single session. You will need multiple sessions to strengthen and make permanent the suggestions that we have implanted." "Make permanent....?" Jordan's voice quavered as he repeated the words. "Yes, of course. Jordan, don't you want to quit smoking?" "Well yes, of course, but..." "And isn't there someone -- someone near and dear to you, someone that you love -- that you want to quit smoking for? Someone who cares for you and wants you to be healthy and free of this addiction?" Of course RoseMarie was thinking of Matt, her son the football quarterback. But the name which leapt into Jordan's head at that moment was 'Anna'. "Yes," Jordan said, almost tearing up. "Yes, there is someone that I love that I want to quit smoking for." "So then, don't you owe it to them to continue with the program?" "I..." Jordan hesitated. Yes, he did want to quit smoking for Anna, and he was looking forward to telling her that he had, in fact, done it. But he really didn't want to have to go through another hypnotherapy session with RoseMarie. After the last one he had become addicted to putting on makeup. What would happen after this next one? And so the question was this: How strong was his desire to quit smoking for Anna? Jordan loved Anna, and he desperately wanted to quit smoking for her. He knew she'd be pleased that he had. Jordan fretted, trying to decide. "Jordan, you must continue your therapy." "I must continue my therapy," Jordan repeated. Sensing that he needed some gentle encouragement, RoseMarie gently grasped Jordan by the wrist. "Come, Jordan," she said. Jordan felt RoseMarie's pull, and allowed himself to be pulled along after her. 'I should just leave,' Jordan kept thinking to himself. 'Just tell her that I want to cancel my appointment and just get out of here!' But try as he might, he just couldn't. 'I must continue my therapy,' Jordan thought to himself. Besides he trusted RoseMarie. He *wanted* to trust her. He wanted to stop smoking for Anna. If he backed out now, then RoseMarie might talk to Angela. She probably would talk to Angela. And Jordan had felt that somehow he had upset Angela last night during the slumber party. Why else was Angela avoiding him all day long? "I must continue my therapy," Jordan repeated. RoseMarie smiled, hearing him repeat the words. As Jordan was thinking these thoughts, RoseMarie led him into the elevator, and then from the elevator to her office door, where she fished out her office keys from her purse and led Jordan inside, flicking on the lights as they went. As they got closer and closer to her inner office, Jordan felt his last bit of willpower slip away and he started rationalizing. 'It's just one more session,' he rationalized. 'It won't be that bad. Besides, it will be just a strengthening of the existing program,' he thought. 'It won't be anything new. And I really do want to stop smoking... for Anna. I must continue my therapy.' All during this entire time, RoseMarie didn't let go of Jordan's wrist at all, holding it with a caring, motherly grasp, leading Jordan along like a mother would lead her child. She didn't let go until Jordan was safely seated in the comfy arm-chair and had closed his eyes. RoseMarie looked at her patient, eyes closed, ready for her session. 'That was a close one,' RoseMarie realized. 'I need to make sure it doesn't happen again.' * * * "Hey Ryan, how's it going?" Dr. Green was delighted to hear from his friend, Ed Johanson. "Ed! Good to hear from you," Dr. Green replied. "I'm glad you called, I have good news for you!" "Good news?" Johanson smiled in anticipation. "Good news about Jordan?" "Yes! She's coming in tomorrow for an appointment." "TOMORROW?" Johanson was incredulous. "Seriously? I hadn't heard about this! But wait - you said you were completely booked up. That it was impossible!" "Well," Dr. Green said, feeling sheepish, "I... uh... was able to shuffle some appointments around." "HA! I knew it!" Johanson gloated. "Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I thought you should know that she's getting her implants tomorrow afternoon. This will be right after her 1pm appointment with Vanessa Crosby, her counselor." "I'll make sure she's there. And, as usual, bill all of the procedures to me." "Of course. I will." "And hey, Ryan, I was wondering..." "Yes?" "Well, I was talking to my office assistant, Tiffani?" "Of course! I remember Tiffani. I helped her with that Brazilian butt lift." "That's her! Anyway, she told me that Jordan is wearing corsets for waist training to get a smaller waist." "But that doesn't really work," Dr. Green blurted out. "Everyone knows that the effects are only temporary." "My thoughts exactly. So, is there something more long lasting you can do?" "Trunk liposuction," Dr. Green answered, immediately. "It removes the fat cells and so new fat will grow elsewhere. It's the perfect solution for getting that hourglass shape she's trying to achieve with waist training." "Can you do it?" "Sure! It takes less than an hour. We can easily add it to the procedures list." "Excellent, let's go ahead and do it." "I'll have to verify the surgery with Jordan, beforehand." "Of course! But I'm sure it will be no problem. Tiffani already asked Jordan if she wanted the clinic to help contour her waist, and she said 'yes'." "Okay, then it should be no problem then!" Excellent! Dr. Green gloated to himself. Yet another surgery for Jordan that I can show off when we're both at the ACS Gala together! Dr. Green congratulated himself on his good luck. Jordan was a godsend! * * * Jordan stepped into the bar. No Jason. Jason had chosen a bar close to the manufacturer's office. Since it was fairly far away from Johanson & Johanson's offices, Jason had figured that it was unlikely they would run into anyone they knew. Not knowing what to do, Jordan went into the ladies' restroom to freshen up. He couldn't remember a thing about the hypnotherapy session. Basically, as soon as he sat down in the chair he was out, and then his next memory was waking to RoseMarie's snapping fingers and her smiling face. It was scary, a completely black out like that. Jordan opened up his purse and pulled out his makeup. Another woman popped in. "Cute dress!" she said. "Thank you!" Jordan trilled, smiling. "Cute shoes!" he responded, finding something of hers to compliment just like Anna had trained him. It had become second nature now. "These old things?" the girl laughed, before heading into the stall. Jordan turned back to the mirror and applied his makeup. ** I have a beautiful body ** ** I am a beautiful woman ** "That's such a cute look." The lady from earlier was done in the stall and now joined Jordan at the mirror. "Thanks! I've become addicted to makeup." "Oh I'm right there with you!" The other lady laughed. "My name is Jenny, by the way." "Nicole, pleased to meet you." The two ladies hugged and kissed. "So now tell me, where did you get that dress?" They chatted for a while about stores and clothing and shopping at the mall. "Jenny is so nice!" Jordan Nicole thought to herself as she exited the bathroom. She was on something of a cloud, having such a sweet and natural interaction in the bathroom. Jordan Nicole sat at the bar, humming to herself. "What'll it be?" The bartender said. "A cosmo--" Jordan halted. Shit. What was going on? "A cosmopolitan? Coming right up!" The bartender turned to leave. "Wait!" Jordan practically shouted. "Uh, I want a beer instead. I'll take the..." Jordan consulted the card on the bar, "the Armadillo Red." "Excellent choice, my dear." Jordan gritted his teeth. What the fuck had just happened? * * * "Jason!" Jordan hopped up off the bar stool and ran over to his friend, giving him a big hug. "Uh, hey, Jordan," Jason tried to return the hug in a manly way, but Jordan's breasts pressed against his chest and he felt Jordan's bra strap through the fabric of her dress. 'Shit, is she turning me on?' Jason thought, with horror. All of the other bar patrons looked up at the lucky man who finally showed up to claim the hot girl sitting alone at the bar. "Thank *god* you're here," Jordan said. "I've been hit on, like, at least a dozen times." "Well no fucking wonder," Jason pointed out. "Have you looked at you?" "What's the problem?" Jordan looked down at his clothes. "Your hair, makeup, that dress... I mean, come on!" "It's only a work dress, I don't see what the big deal is. Did you bring the clothes?" "Yeah, here they are," Jordan handed over a brown paper bag. "Great, be right back." Jason sat down at the bar and ordered a beer while waiting for Jordan to change. Jason was having severe doubts about the entire plan. Just seeing Jordan on the bar stool looking like any other woman waiting for a date made him realize how getting Jordan a new job as a man might be more difficult than simply showing up. 'If only she would just stay as a woman,' Jason thought to himself. 'Life would be so much simpler.' * * * "Hey," Jordan said, coming back from the bathroom. "What took you so lon--" Jason turned to Jordan, now standing before him in jeans and a plaid shirt and just snorted. "Oh shit, Jordan," he said. "We are so screwed." "What do you mean?" Jordan looked down at his clothes. "I think I look fine. Okay sure, perhaps I'm a bit more feminine around the edges, but I think I can pass as a man." "Did you look at yourself?" Jason asked. "This is insane! There is *no way* that you'll pass as a man." "I can't even believe we're having this fucking conversation," Jordan said, suddenly angry. "I *am* a man! I don't need to *pass* as one. I am MISTER Jordan Ross. Look, I even made my eyebrows more bushy. See?" "You have no facial hair, your skin is smooth and stubble-free, and look at your figure! You look like a hot girlfriend dressing up in her boyfriend's clothes. This is ridiculous. And... oh my god... are you still wearing your heels?" "Your shoes didn't fit, okay? They were too big. What kind of gorilla feet do you have, anyway? And as far as my body, I'll have these breasts removed tomorrow and then I won't have to wear the bra. And I'll take off the corset, of course. I couldn't get it off in the bathroom by myself. Tiffani tucked up the laces where I couldn't reach them." "Tiffani?" "Yeah, she spent the night." "I'm telling you, Jordan, you still look like a woman." "And I'm telling you, Jason, that I think it won't be a problem." "Okay, fine. Here, put on my jacket." Jason handed over a light-weight windbreaker which Jordan put on. "That hides your figure and also your bra straps which show which I can see through the shirt. Now tuck your feet under the bar stool. Oh, and your nails. So obvious! Cross your arms and hide them under your armpits. Perfect. Hey there!" Jason flagged down a man who was walking by. "Yeah?" "What's your name?" "Schmitty." Jordan looked at Schmitty and wrinkled his nose. Schmitty looked like a sour puss who liked to complain a lot. "Okay Schmitty. Free drink if you can guess whether my friend is a man or a woman." Schmitty looked at Jordan up and down, carefully. "Man." "See! I told you," Jordan said. "Fuck, I got it wrong, didn't I?" Schmitty said. "My first instinct was 'woman', but then I thought 'why would he ask if it were that easy?' So I changed my answer to 'man'. So which is it?" "Man," said Jordan, sourly. "No shit, really? I got it right? With that voice? Dude, you are *perfect*! Dude, you don't look like a man at all." "Thanks, Schmitty!" Jason said. "Hey Bartender! Give this man a free drink!" "You got it!" "Jason," Jordan said, "let's try again. I'll adjust my makeup to make it more manly." Jordan reached into his purse and pulled out the makeup. "And the purse! DUH! We'll put that in the paper bag." "It's not going to he-elp..." Jason said with a sing-songy voice. "Yes it i-is," Jordan sang back. "Okay, but this time you have to speak as well. Alright? After all, you'll have to speak at the interview." "Fine. Okay, I'm ready." Jordan put away his makeup and then put the purse into the paper bag. "Hey there," Jason flagged down another man. "What's your name?" "Mark." Jordan liked the look of Mark. He looked like a friendly, appreciative sort of man. "Great, Mark. Now tell me, is my friend here a man or a woman? You get a free drink if you can guess right." "Uh..." Mark thought for a while. "Well, it could go either way." "Say something," Jason instructed Jordan. "Hi Mark," Jordan said, trying to talk as low as possible. "My name is Jordan." "Oh, okay, woman. Definitely," said Mark. "Miss, your voice completely gives you away." "Bartender!" Jason said. "A free drink for Mark here." "Hey!" Jordan protested. "Thanks!" Mark said, ordering his drink and then went to join his friends. Jordan looked at the ground, feeling sour. "Why'd you give him a free drink? He got it wrong." "Depends on your POV," Jason responded. "Oh, fuck off." "Besides, he deserved a drink just for playing." "Listen, I was close. He said it could go either way. I just need to talk deeper, I'll practice on that, and hopefully my voice will flip back to its original register. And then, without the breasts, without the corset, with some more attention to my makeup, and a more manly hair-style..." "Maybe you can go to the salon to get a more manly hair style," Jason smirked. "Ooh! What a great idea! That's perfect! I can also get their help for better makeup to make me look more like a man." "Jordan, I was kidding!" "Maybe, but it was still a good idea. I can also ask at the clinic tomorrow if they have any ideas." "I don't know, Jordan," Jason was still skeptical. "Trust me, Jason," Jordan said. "I'll do anything to get out of these clothes and back to being just ordinary, old Jordan." "Well, okay, fine. But Jordan, promise me that you won't do anything to jeopardize your position at Johanson & Johanson until you have a new job." "What do you mean?" Jordan was incensed. "Just keep doing your job, okay? Keep dressing as the woman they think you are. Don't let anything slip to anyone." Jordan refused to look at Jason. "Hey," Jason continued. "It just makes good sense. Just in case something goes wrong with the interview, okay? You'll have Johanson & Johanson as backup. Consider the fire. Doesn't it make sense to get at least a couple of paychecks before leaving, just in case?" Jordan sighed. "I guess you're right. So, fine. I'll continue to be Jordan Nicole. At least for now." "That's a good girl." Jordan slapped him. * * * Jordan laid in his bed that night. Angela had already gone to sleep by the time he had finally gotten home. Jordan hoped that she was okay. Jordan's mind wandered to his experiences with Jason at the bar. It had made him feel unsettled and freaked. He had no idea that he looked so much like a woman that he could, quite literally, dress as a man and still look like a woman! The realization just floored him. "I guess the treatments at the salon and the clinic had more impact than I realized," he mumbled. Jordan felt his face. Where before there would have been beard stubble, now all he could feel was soft, feminine skin. Did it feel softer as well? Less angular? (the pills?) Jordan felt twitchy and jittery. It was his familiar feelings of cravings from nicotine withdrawal. He reached over to his night stand for something to suck on. Damn it... no pen cap. He felt around for something. Anything. His hands closed over the vibrator. It was the small one, the "Classic Chic Mini Power Wand". He felt it in his hand, the smooth hard-plastic surface. It was off, of course. "I'm alone..." Jordan thought to himself. It was dark and quiet in the apartment. Everything was silent. Angela was asleep, three rooms away. "No one will ever know, and it's not like it means anything..." Jordan ran his fingers over the smooth tip of the vibrator. An erotic thrill ran through his body. "I wonder what it feels like..." he started, then stopped. The cravings for having something in his mouth, anything, were getting worse. He recognized the cravings and, by this point, he knew they weren't going away. "I can't possibly be thinking..." Jordan lifted the tip of the vibrator to his mouth, and was just about to wrap his lips around it... "Shit, what the *fuck* am I doing?" he muttered, thrusting it back into the bedroom nightstand. Jordan turned on the night-stand light, got out from under the warm covers, went to the kitchen and, after rummaging in the kitchen junk drawer, finally found a ball-point pen with a cap. He padded back to his bedroom, his bare feet on the cold floors, before he slipped back into bed, sucking on the pen cap. That settled him down. It was just what he needed. Immediately, Jordan started to feel drowsy. But the thought came to him: "is this really any different than sucking on the vibrator?" Jordan's mind wandered to his weird experience in the bar-bathroom. It was like Jordan, the man, had simply taken a vacation and was replaced completely by Jordan Nicole. Jordan tried to recreate the situation in his mind. He had first asked one of the waitresses where the bathroom was and she had pointed to the ladies' room. And then Jordan had entered it without a second thought, and then just put his purse on the counter and opened it, automatically reaching for his makeup as he so often did. Jordan sucked on the pen cap as he thought back to putting on his makeup at the bar. "I am a beautiful woman," the positive body-image affirmations from RoseMarie's therapy floated up into his mind. "I really am." Jordan remembered his reflection in the mirror. Something was different about it. Was it because... Jordan's tongue working around the tip of the cap. Was it because she's starting to feel more... natural? Jordan placed a hand between his legs and started rubbing. Why was he horny all of a sudden? "I do love my body," he thought to himself. "I am a beautiful woman." That part was true, certainly. How much of this was RoseMarie's doing? he wondered, regretting again that he hadn't had the backbone to tell her 'no' as she dragged him up to her hypnotherapy office. Jordan sucked on the pen and rubbed between his legs, remembering his session in RoseMarie's office. It had been nice and relaxing. He trusted RoseMarie. Was that making him horny too? He thought about how he was looking forward to going back. Jordan rubbed some more and felt the heaviness of his breasts and his smooth legs rubbing up against each other. He felt the Victoria's secret nightshirt wrapped around him and he felt the straps of the bra on his shoulders. A lock of hair brushed across his face. Jordan hummed into a nice, flowing orgasm. "Hmmmm..." he sighed. "Tomorrow I head to the clinic..." Jordan fell fast asleep. END Chapter 22