Summer Magic free porn video

Summer Magic I caused a panic in the thrift store. Screaming tends to do that when a bunch of people are around. My girl friend, Tracey, was first on the scene. She didn't help matters. "Where's Dylan"? she yelled. "What are you doing back in town? Why are you wearing Dylan's shirt?" Then her 18-year-old daughter Megan barged in. "Mom, what's going on? Why are you screaming? ... Kaylee, OMG! I thought you moved to Florida!" Still looking in the mirror at a reflection that definitely was not mine, I paused for breath. Big blue eyes stared back at me in disbelief, as the blonde girl in the mirror clasped her face in her hands. Incredibly, I felt myself doing the same. And Tracey was right. The girl was wearing my tee shirt. Long, smooth, and shapely legs sticking out of the khaki shorts below the shirt, however, definitely were not mine! In the mirror, I watched Megan hug the still stunned blonde, even as I sensed arms squeezing what felt like soft, sensitive, and massive bean bags on my chest. "OMG, Kaylee, I missed you!" she squealed. Suddenly, a woman I didn't recognize joined us in a dressing room that was growing a bit crowded. "I heard screaming," she said. "Is everything all right? I'm Janis, the owner." Stepping away from Megan and the mirror, I said, "No, it's not! Look at me!" As I did so, I heard a high and feminine voice, a voice I recognized as --- you guessed it--- Kaylee's. And yet it was coming out of me! "What's wrong?" the owner said. "The shirt's a little big on you. But the shorts look adorable, like they were made for you. I think that a little tank top would look great with them." Fists clenched, I yelled again, a long, primal scream. My unintentional tormentors covered their ears and waited for me to run out of breath. It took awhile. "Listen to me," I gasped. "I'm not a girl." Looking at Megan, I added, "I'm not Kaylee. I'm Dylan. Something happened. I don't know what. "I was trying on these shorts and the next thing I knew, I was looking at your friend in the mirror." We stood in silence for a few seconds before Tracey said, "Yeah... right. Where's Dylan? Why aren't you in Florida? And... " The manager held up her hand. More exhausted now than panicked I didn't respond to Tracey, waiting for the woman in the peasant blouse and flowing skirt to speak. Add a flower to her long, gray-brown hair and she'd look like she just came from Woodstock. But she didn't speak. Instead, she walked over to the mirror and examined the lower left corner. After a long pause, she said, "Oh, crap!" Then she turned and looked at me. "Which were you trying on in here, the shirt or the shorts?" she asked. "The shorts," I said in my new Kaylee voice. The woman grinned as if she already knew the answer to her next question. "Why were you trying on girls' shorts instead of men's?" she asked. Before I could get in her face, Tracey stepped between us. "What in the world are you talking about?" she demanded. "And what's that got to do with anything? My boy friend came in here to try on some clothes. Now he's disappeared and my daughter's best friend, who had moved away, has replaced him." The woman backed up and raised both hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, okay," she said. "Let me explain." Long story short, the new thrift store where Tracey, Megan, and I had gone to shop had been a magic store just a few weeks before, owned by this same woman. Instead of being placed in storage at the back of the building, an item from Grand Illusion had been mistakenly installed in this dressing room. "When someone dons a piece of used clothing and looks in this mirror, it transforms that person into the mirror image of the person who wore the clothing before," the woman said. Finally, Megan, who had been silent for awhile, spoke up, "But magic's not real," she said. "This is not Dylan. It's my friend Kaylee." The store's owner shook her head. "Oh, but it is real. Dylan here is living proof. Those shorts belonged to Kaylee. That's why he looks like her." I pushed long blonde hair out of my face. "This is nuts," I said, throwing my arms wide and feeling weight sway on my chest. Totally disoriented by the sensation, I paused and looked down at my body. Yes, my shirt. No, not my breasts. Only they were. Focused now on a piece of my new anatomy I'd rather ignore, I also felt nipples rubbing against the shirt. Giving no thought to what I was doing, I cupped my new appendages and explored them further until... I heard giggles around me. Suddenly I was jolted back to reality and totally embarrassed by my actions. "This is not funny!" I said in the high, squeaky voice of an angry teenage girl. "And magic isn't real. What the hell is going on?" I blew more hair out of my face, something that I had never done before, and put my hands on my hips--- my newly expanded hips. "And I grabbed those shorts out of the men's department. I wasn't looking to try on women's clothes!" Tracey nodded. "He--- er, she--- is right," she said. "I was there. Those shorts were in the men's department." Then she looked at me with the trace of a smile. "And I have to say, Dylan, they do seem to fit you well, especially now." "Yes, they do," Megan agreed, and Janis nodded her head. They giggled again. I was--- or had been--- about 5-11, with a runner's style physique. I kept in shape and still played sports. Tracey liked my body well enough, too. We had been lovers for more than a year, and the sex was great. Both high school teachers, we had met at a party. But we lived 60 miles apart and taught in different districts. So that we could be closer together, I had accepted a job with her school for the following year. Megan and Kaylee were just graduated from that school, and Megan planned to leave for college in the fall. Megan was a great kid, and we got along well. But it would be great to be alone full time with Tracey. And I knew that Tracey was looking forward to it as well. After all, Megan also was a typical teenager. She left clothing scattered all over the house. She rarely turned off lights and electrical appliances. At least once a day, I'd hear Tracey say, "I swear, Megan, you're going to burn down this house one day." The plan was for me to sell my house and move into an apartment nearby. As teachers, we thought it important to maintain separate addresses until we got married. The house sold, too, just days after summer vacation began and before I could even find a place. Consequently, I had moved in with Tracey and Megan for a couple of weeks. I sold my furniture and most household possessions and brought just my clothes and personal items with me. In fact, we had just moved the last of it in before we decided to visit the thrift store on this fateful Saturday, where I made the unwise decision of trying on a pair of women's shorts mistakenly placed in the men's department. Slender and in good physical condition, I always had thought my butt was small. Now it felt gigantic. How could that be? And why didn't I look at the tag or examine the cut of the shorts before I put them on? "Stop giggling and laughing, you guys!" I fumed. "This is not funny!" The store owner smiled apologetically. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry for what I implied," she said. "But the fact of the matter is that magic is real and you're going to be Kaylee for a week. After that, you can put on some of your old clothes, stand in front of the mirror, and you will change back into yourself." * * * * * In exchange for my "trouble," Janis told me to fill up a shopping cart with girl clothes to get me through the week. "This is a thrift store, so it's no big deal," she said. "You can bring them back when you come in to change back." I couldn't even stand the thought of sorting through all kinds of girly clothing with the realization that I would be wearing it. So when Tracey pulled Janis outside the dressing room, I said, "Megan, will you just get some stuff for me, please? You can try it on to make sure it's the right size. This is hard enough for me, as it is. I'll just wait here." She shook her head, with just a trace of a smile. "Sorry, Dylan," she said. "That's not a good idea. You're a bigger girl than I am." We were still standing in front of the mirror. I looked at us side by side, a cute blonde and a cute brunette, and we were almost exactly the same height. I knew that Megan was about 5-5, just a little shorter than her mother. "You're wrong," I said in my new Kaylee voice. "Look in the mirror. We're almost exactly the same." Megan laughed, as she lifted my hands and placed them on my breasts. My breasts! Then she pulled them toward her and placed them on her own! "Megan!" I screeched as I jerked back my hands. She laughed again. "Oh, relax," she said. "We're all girls here--- at least for right now. And you, Kaylee, are a 36C, while I am just a 34B. You need to go with me to pick out clothes so we can be sure that they fit." And so I went with her. I had come into the thrift store to pick up a pair of shorts and maybe a tee shirt or two. But I would be leaving with much, much more--- a new body, a new sex, and a new wardrobe. I let Megan pick out my new clothes as we pushed the cart down the aisles. I just couldn't bring myself to do it, to even touch the stuff on my own. At first, I refused to answer when she asked if I like a particular color or style. But as she held up sundress after sundress and tank top after tank top, she eventually wore me down and, God help me, I started responding to her questions and even choosing an item or two myself. Eventually, we filled the cart with shorts, tops, flirty skirts, and dresses, most all of which were soft, skimpy, tight, and/or revealing. Some of it was adorned with lace, bows, and/or glitter. Too much of it was shiny and silky. "You can wear my shoes," Megan said as I stared in disbelief at the feminine wardrobe that we had compiled for me. "We're the same size there. But we'll have to stop somewhere else to buy you new bras and panties. You don't want those to be used." When I didn't respond, she shook my shoulder. "Earth to Kaylee," she said. "Did you hear me?" I nodded. "Uh, yeah," I said. "Buy underwear somewhere else." "And I'm Dylan, not Kaylee." Megan laughed. "For the next week, you're not," she said. "For the next week, you're Kaylee Reynolds, my best friend who moved away and now is staying with me for a week. "And we're going to have sooo much fun! Oh, wait... bikinis, you're gonna need bikinis!" After we added those to the cart, Megan pushed it to the front of the store. I followed, the reality of my predicament weighing heavily on my shoulders and Kaylee Reynolds' 36C breasts weighing heavily on my chest. Tracey was nowhere to be seen. But Janis was behind the counter and a man with his back to us seemed to be patting himself down as if searching for something. "We're all set," Megan told Janis who nodded and yelled to the man, "They're ready to go." When he turned to face us, he smiled and said, "Hi there, girls. Guess who I used to be?" "Eeeeeeew!" I screamed. Megan joined me. We harmonized nicely. "Girls! Quiet!" he said. "Don't you like the new me? Giving no thought to the gesture. I grabbed Megan's arm for support, both emotional and physical, I suspect. She put her free hand on top of my mine. I used my other to push hair out of my face --- again. We stared in disbelief. "Mom?" she asked. "Is that you? What in the world did you do?" The new male Tracey flexed his muscles in a body builder's pose. Dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, he was about 6-2 and well built with short black hair. If I were a girl, I might think he was attractive. Yeeeeew! I was a girl. Oh, no, I wasn't even going to go there. "Yes!" I said. "Tracey, what in the hell did you do?" Tracey gestured toward the door. "Come on girls," he said. "I'll explain while we put Kaylee's clothes in the car. I can't wait to see what it's like being a man for a week." Megan grabbed the arm of the man who had been her mother less than an hour ago. "Wait," she said. "If you get to do it, so do I!" Standing there in shock, I ran my hands through my long, blonde hair. "Oh, crap!" I screamed. "I don't believe this!" Janis smiled and nodded her head knowingly. "Hey, people like magic," she said. "And if it's only for a short time, they like the idea of being someone else, walking in someone else's shoes, especially someone of the opposite sex." Despite myself, I laughed. "Well, I might be the exception to that rule," I said. Janis put her hand on my shoulder. "I don't doubt that's how you feel now, especially since you weren't given a choice," she said. "A week from today, though, you might feel different about the adventure you're about to have." * * * * * As we loaded clothes for me in my SUV, as well as a few for the two new guys in my life, I noticed the magic mirror lying in the back. "What's up with this?" I asked. Tracey pushed in the last of the clothes and put her large, muscular arm around me. It felt weird encircling my new, softer body. But it also felt oddly comforting--- until suddenly I felt flushed and all fuzzy in my stomach. Without warning my knees buckled a bit. But thank goodness, she didn't notice. I had no idea how I could explain what had just happened with this body because I didn't know myself. "I convinced Janis to let me bring the mirror so that we can change back as soon as the week is up," she said. "You know how it is in stories and movies where stuff like this happens. We could come back in a week and the store would be closed or burned down and then what would we do. I didn't want to take that chance." "No argument from me," I said. "Where are my jeans? The keys are in one of the pockets." "I've got them," Tracey said as she headed for the driver's side front door. "I tossed your jeans in back. I'm the adult here right now, so I'd better drive, especially since it looks like you're wearing clown shoes." She was right. My adult men's running shoes did look like clown's shoes on Kaylee's small feet. Megan laughed. "Don't worry," she said as she opened the passenger side front door for me. "Mine are all yours for a week. I won't be needing them. She was at least 6 feet tall now, with brown hair and eyes and a crooked smile. She might have been a year or two older than the new me. And there was that butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling again. Yikes! "But, hey, Dad, we need to go shopping. Kaylee needs some bras and panties and you and I need some men's shoes--- and jockey shorts," Megan said. In the car, Tracey said that we should decide right away who we were and what our relationship was going to be to each other for a week. "I'm still going to be Tracy," she said, "but without the 'e.' And, Kaylee, it probably is best that we keep calling you that, since that's who you look like to us. Is that okay?" I nodded, with my arms crossed across my breasts to minimize bouncing. "That's just peachy," I said. "I want to be Michael," Megan said from the back seat. "Okay, we've settled that," Tracey replied. "Now, it would make sense to me, Michael, that you're my son, and, Kaylee, you're his girl friend." I shook my head. "And how do you explain this new father and son living in your house with the son's girl friend?" I asked. "Where are Tracey and her daughter, Megan?" "Simple," she replied, as she turned into the driveway. "We're not going to be living here. We're going to spend the next week at the beach. It's only a three-hour drive, and no one will even give us a second thought." "Yay!" the new Michael yelled happily from the back seat. "Yay," I said morosely, but acknowledging that what the father of my boy friend said made sense. After we stopped at Tracey's house to drop off the mirror and clothes and get a pair of Megan's sandals for me to wear, I experienced what was, without question, the most embarrassing hour of my life. The only saving grace was that I didn't have to try on the bras, since Megan knew my size. But still I had to sort through them, as they watched and offered advice on various styles and colors. And I had to do so with the knowledge that I was buying these soft, silky, and sexy garments for me, not my girl friend. Then it got worse. "You know, Dad," Michael said. "We should get Kaylee a couple of new bikinis too. We picked up a couple at the thrift store, but a girl never can have enough." * * * * I awakened to pounding on the door. What the... I looked around in bewilderment and then realized where I was, a beachside motel. Since the official tourist season didn't begin for another week or two, finding vacancies late yesterday had been easy. Tracy used my driver's license and credit card to secure a room for him and Michael and one for me. Although she was bigger and broader than I had been as a man, the facial resemblance and hair color were close enough--- as long as someone wasn't paying close attention. "Just a minute!" I shouted. "Just a minute! I'm coming!" My God, is that an irritating voice, I thought, as I pulled myself onto the side of the bed, realizing to my embarrassment that voice was mine. Long, tangled hair cascaded into my face. I brushed it away with the back of a hand, as my sleep-filled eyes focused on long, smooth legs peaking out of--- what did Michael call them?--- tap pants. Who wears stuff like this to sleep in? "A teenage girl," a little voice in my head told me. My "sleep" top was even worse, a tiny thing with thin shoulder straps that barely covered my breasts. Michael had laid them out for me to sleep in the night before. But I didn't have to wear them. Why did I? "Kaylee! Open up, please! I have something for you." "Coming!" I said, as I stood up and stumbled to the door, my new center of gravity still making movement seem strange and unnatural. I opened the door and bright light blinded me. "Come in and close the door. What time is it anyway?" Clad in cargo shorts and blue polo shirt, Tracy stepped inside with a small cardboard box and closed the door. "It's after 9. Michael and I were getting worried about you. "Did you sleep all right?" he asked. "What do you think?" I replied. He laughed. "You sound just like Megan when she's grumpy," Tracy said. "Get over it. Here, this should make you happy. "It's girl stuff," he added before I could ask about the box. "Stuff you're going to need besides clothes, like makeup, personal care products, and jewelry." I threw my hands in the air. "Oh, yes!" I gushed sarcastically. "That just makes me ecstatic!" Tracy laughed. "You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say that you'd just started your..." I cut him off. "Don't you dare say the 'p' word. Don't you dare!" He didn't. Instead, he put my hair up in a ponytail, which did a surprising amount of good to improve my attitude. Next to those 36Cs, the hair was what bugged me the most. "Now, we have to get you dressed, and then I'll show you about makeup," he said. "You did shower last night, didn't you?" I nodded my head. "That's a big reason I didn't sleep so well," I said. Tracy pulled a bra from the dresser drawer. "Okay, pull off that top and I'll show you how to put this on." I gave him a look. "You're right," he said. "I understand. I'll turn around. You take off the top and turn your back to me. Then I'll turn back and hand you the bra. You put your arms through the straps and place the cups over your breasts. I'll snap the strap in back and check to make sure it fits properly. We might have to adjust the straps. Then I'll show you about the makeup." His plan worked--- until time came for him to check the fit. "Uh, I'm sorry," Tracy said in a ragged voice from behind me. "You're going to have to do the rest on your own." I turned around to ask what was wrong and didn't have to. My eyes followed his to the large bulge in his shorts. I stifled a smirk. "Uh, yes, I see." His face turned bright red. "We'll meet you in 30 minutes in the motel cafe for breakfast," he said as he made a hasty departure. After I closed the door, I leaned against it and laughed. "Welcome to manhood, Tracy," I said. "You and Megan wanted to do this. Now let's see how you like it." Then, in the mirror above the sink in the bathroom alcove, I saw the reflection of a cute teen girl wearing a lavender bra and tap pants. For some reason, it didn't bother me as much as it should have. Perhaps it had something to do with Tracy's bulge. I had done that. The girl in the mirror smiled. * * * * * During late Sunday breakfast, we made plans. Tracy and Michael were eager to get out on the beach and go topless in their new male bodies. "Come with us," Michael said eagerly. "You're probably not supposed to, but you can go topless too. I won't complain." He laughed. "Sorry. I really didn't mean that. It's just that I'm feeling so strong and free in this body." I finished up my scrambled eggs and said, "Don't worry about," I said. "Enjoy yourself out there on the beach. With lots of girls around you, I think you're going to feel something else too. Ask your Dad." I patted Tracy's hand and smiled. "Thanks for the girl stuff," I added. "Since you didn't have time to show me, I can just Google about how to put on makeup. Mostly, I'm just going to stay in my room today and practice so I don't embarrass myself the rest of the week." And that's what I did. I almost poked an eye out, but, finally, after scrubbing off lots of mistakes, I was at least adequate at applying eye makeup. I also learned that I should spray a whiff of perfume into the air and step into it, instead of applying directly to my body. Better to be alluring than overpowering, the online article said. Maybe I'll just skip the perfume, I thought. I didn't like either option. About 6 p.m., I called the guys' room and asked Michael to come over and help me get dressed. I wasn't ready yet to wear a dress and I was tired of tiny, tight shorts. So I had decided on a blue and white floral print romper. At least that's what Michael had called it. More specifically, he said it was a skort romper. Just before he knocked on the door, I impulsively decided to do the perfume thing. "Nice," I said softly, as I inhaled the slight floral scent. "Can you zip me up?" I asked Michael when he stepped inside. I pulled my hair up off my neck and over my left shoulder. "Sure," he said. He stepped up behind me and pulled up the zipper. "You smell nice," he said, as I felt his hot breath on my bare shoulders. "Do I?" I asked innocently. "Thank you." I turned around to face him, intentionally staying just inches away. "How was your day?" I asked, looking into his brown eyes with my blue, which now sported large, dark lashes. "Did you and Tracy have a good time?" Then, slowly and deliberately, I lowered my gaze. Having been a teenage boy myself, I knew about raging male hormones and erections so rigid they were painful. Even through his jeans, I could see that was what Michael was experiencing. "Is that a pistol in your pocket or are you happy to see me?" I asked. Even if he didn't get the reference, he understood my point. He blushed an even darker shade of red than Tracy had that morning. "Uh, we'll see you at dinner," he said as he headed out the door. "You look great, by the way. Bye." At dinner, both said that their day have been relaxing and enjoyable, but uneventful. They had enjoyed looking at all the girls in bikinis and now knew lots more about how and why men were aroused, they added. "I'll bet you do," I said innocently as I wiped my lips. "I want to learn more too," Tracy laughed. "I'm going to stop by that bar down the beach. Why don't you two go for a walk?" Michael didn't say anything. He looked down at the remains of his pasta. "Michael, Mike, are you okay?" Tracy asked. "Uh, sure, I'm okay," he replied. "We can go for a walk, I guess." So we did. I swung sandal wedges with my left hand as we walked side by side in the sand, our hands noticeably not touching. A breeze lifted my hair and it whispered across my shoulders. "I'm sorry I teased you back in the room," I said. "It was a mean thing to do." As if on cue, we both stopped. I looked up into this face, his five- o'clock shadowed highlighted in the moonlight. "Oh, that's okay," he said. "By intentionally turning into a guy, I was asking for it, and you didn't have any choice in what happened to you. It was my fault too." I touched his arm. "And Tracy's fault too," I added with a laugh. "I did the same thing to her this morning. That's when I realized I had this power, you know?" "I do know," Michael chuckled. "Boy, do I know. This thing between my legs seems to have a mind of its own and it feels like I don't have any control of it when I'm close to... well, you know, a pretty girl like you." I leaned up on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. "That's nice of you to say," I said. "And I have to admit that getting a rise out of you two was a turn-on for me too. It made my stomach feel all warm and filled with butterflies and my breasts... " Michael interrupted, "And your nipples too!" Now I felt myself blush. "I can see them poking into the fabric of your romper," he said. "That's another good reason to wear a bra." We started walking again. Impulsively I grabbed his hand and we stopped a second time. I leaned up and kissed him a second time on his scratchy cheek. "Hey, you're right," I said with a sly grin, as I ran my hand lightly over the top of the romper. "I guess my kissing you makes them do that, huh?" Michael pulled his hand out of mine and covered his eyes. "Geez, Kaylee! Stop that!" I playfully poked him in the chest. "We're going to be this way for the next five days," I said. "There's nothing we can do about it. We can be hesitant and scared and let ourselves get embarrassed easily by the weirdness of it all. "Or we make the best of it and decide to be who we appear to be--- boy friend and girl friend. Not just act like it. Really be those people. "Are you up for that?" Michael reached down and kissed me, not on the cheek, but on the lips. "I am," he said. We walked back to the motel holding hands. * * * * * And for the next five days, that's exactly what we were, with me wearing bikinis and sundresses and adorning myself with makeup, perfume, ankle bracelets, and hoop earrings. For his part, Michael opened doors for me, pulled out my chair at restaurants, and carried all the packages when we went shopping. When it was just the two of us, he paid for meals and admission to movies. We rubbed sun block liberally on each other's bodies. I gave him back rubs and nibbled on his ears. He liked to step up behind me, put his arms under mine, and squeeze my breasts. "Surprise!" he'd say. His touching me like that always sent an electric jolt from my breasts down into my tummy and then my knees weakened. It was amazing! And then I understood what was going on that first day when Tracy put her big, strong arm around me. After giving Michael enough time for a good, long squeeze, I'd turn into his arms and we'd kiss. As time passed, we kissed more and more often, first short and sweet and then long, deep, and even sweeter, especially after dinner, when Tracy left us to go back to the bar. "You think he's seeing a woman?" I asked Michael as we walked along the beach. I wasn't in a romper this time. I was wearing an orange bikini with tropical flowers that my boy friend had picked out for me. I had pinned up my hair, with a few wisps framing my face. He had taken off his shirt and, bare-chested, his muscles glistened in the glow of a bright moon. "I hope he's seeing a woman," Michael said. "I hope that he's enjoying himself the way that we are." I leaned into his broader, masculine frame and put my small arm around his waist. He put his arm over my shoulder and pulled me even closer. His fingers gently tickled the soft, sensitive flesh above my bikini top. "You know, we've got only two days left after tonight," he said. "You want to take this to the next level?" We stopped and I looked up into his eyes. "What do you mean 'next level'? What else do boy friends and girl friends do these days besides hold hands, kiss a little, and walk on the beach?" Suddenly, Michael slapped my plump bottom and then swept me up into his arms. I giggled insanely. "I'll show you what they do, you big tease," he grinned, as he leaned in and kissed me deeply and passionately. Once I regained my breath, I reached down and squeezed the manhood tenting his swim trunks. "Okay, show me," I said. * * * * Saturday morning came too soon. For the trip back home, I dressed in the sundress that had become my favorite, white with thigh-length hem, a tight bodice with clearly defined cups and lace shoulder straps. I wore a satin, strapless bra underneath and white cotton panties with a tiny red bow in front. I kept my blonde hair loose and I had applied subtle makeup and stepped into a perfume mist for the last time. In less than 8 hours, I'd be a 40-year-old man again and all of this would seem a dream. Tracy and Michael carried out my luggage and my girly stuff box. Tracy hadn't revealed whether he had a summer fling with a woman. And standing here in the bright sunlight, with a return to reality growing closer with every second, my Dylan brain reawakened from several days of dormancy. Suddenly, the thought of my girl friend having sex with someone else was uncomfortable, even if she was my boy friend's father and I was her son's girl friend. Still, I hoped that he did have the full guy experience. It was only fair. After all, I had the full girl experience for three nights with Michael. I had it on the beach. And I had it in my bed. I had it missionary style, buckin' bronco style, and missionary style. And I had it in ways that defied description. Who knew this soft, curvy body was so flexible--- and accommodating? And it was all good because I had once been a man myself, and I knew how little self-control a teenage guy has on the first go-round of the evening. So, I took things into my own hands, you might say, to ensure mutual pleasure later on. "Oh. My God!" Michael said the first time. "That feels so good. But... you're not going to pull it off, are you?" I laughed and kissed his nose. "Not a chance," I said. "I'm just warming you up for the main event." After his release and relaxation, I curled up against his bare chest and gently fondled him, knowing that it wouldn't be long until he was eager to go again. "You know, you can do this to yourself when you're feeling really horny," I whispered playfully. "Really?" he asked, his brown eyes growing wide. "Really," I replied, raising up to play with the hair on his chest with my free hand. "Only it won't be quite as enjoyable as when I do it for you." I snuggled in again. "And it will help if you think about me when you're doing it," I added. Only now Michael's days as a male--- and my boy friend--- were about to end, as departure from our beach vacation was just seconds away. "Well, it was a heck of a week," Tracy said as he slammed shut the back of the SUV. "I hope you kids enjoyed it as much as I did." With a wicked smile he watched as Michael and I glanced at one another and then away. I felt my face glow in embarrassment. "I think you did," he laughed. "And for the trip home, why don't you two sit in the back seat together so you can hold hands." Michael started to protest. "That's not... " he began. But the effort was half-hearted and we all knew it. "No, I insist," Tracy said as he climbed into the driver's seat. Michael opened the door for me. I stepped in, smoothed my dress under my bottom, and sat down. He slid in next to me. "And one other thing," Tracy added, as he looked at us in the rearview mirror. "I hope that you two used condoms. I certainly did." * * * * On the trip home, conversation was extremely awkward for awhile, and Michael and I intentionally avoided touching one another. It was painful. Finally, Tracy said, "Oh, you two, lighten up. Don't be embarrassed by what you did in those bodies. I'm not. It was natural. We were different people while we were at the beach. I was a single adult male looking for a female companion. And you were a couple with raging, teen hormones." He drove on in silence for another mile or two, and then added. "In the beginning, we might all have thought that our old brains were in charge of our new bodies. But they weren't. Our bodies were. "I realized it when I had an erection that first day in your room, Kaylee," he added. "You too?" Michael exclaimed, and we all laughed. The mood instantly lightened. "Sorry about that boys," I grinned. "No, you're not," Michael said, as he pulled me close and squeezed my bare shoulders. "No, I'm not," I said, as I kissed him and grabbed his hand. "See?" Tracy said. "It was a great week." Relaxed now, we shared with each other what it was like to be the opposite sex for a week. As we did so, we realized what was good about our old lives. And somewhere along the way, Michael and I stopped holding hands. As we crossed the city limits, Tracey said, "I'm looking forward to being Tracy with an 'e' again." Michael chimed in with "And I want to be Megan again. I'd rather cause erections than have them." We laughed for a second time, and I added in my teen girl voice, "And I'd rather have them!" But when we turned onto Tracy's street and saw the smoldering remains of her house, happy talk abruptly ended. "Dammit, Megan!" Tracy shouted. "You didn't unplug the toaster!" We pulled to the curb and observed the blackened ruins. The mirror couldn't possibly have survived. If the heat didn't destroy it, then the firemen certainly did as they battled the blaze. "What now?" Michael asked. We sat in silence and contemplated our predicament. Of course, loss of the house and everything inside was a huge concern. But for right now, there were more important questions than where we were going to live. Were Tracy and Michael fated to be men for the rest of their lives? Was I permanently a buxom blonde? Abruptly, and gratefully, I had an idea. "If Janis had one of those mirrors in the her magic shop, then she might have another," I said. And, as luck would have it, she did. "Sure, I have a couple of more in storage," she said, after we sped to the store and ran inside. "What happened to the one that you took home?" Tracy told her. "Oh, that's not good," the store owner said. "I'll bet you panicked there for a bit, didn't you?" Then she looked at the three of us, especially me in my short, flirty sundress and sandal wedges. "Or did you?" she grinned. "Believe me, we did!" I said emphatically. "Oh, okay, just wanted to make sure," she said as she started for the back and we followed. As she unlocked the door, she looked back at us and paused, a look of concern on her face. "But you're going to need some of your old clothes to become yourselves again," she said. "You have some don't you?" "Oh, crap!" Tracy cried. Janis smiled and nodded knowingly. "They burned up with the house, didn't they?" She turned to face us, put her hands on her hips, and said, "Well, boys and girls, this is a thrift store, after all. If you don't want to stay who you are now, you've got lots of options." Michael and I looked at one another. "Well, if we can't be our old selves... " I said, crossing my arms and legs demurely in front of me. My tall, handsome boy friend nodded his head knowingly. "You're right," he said, "If we can't be..." Tracy stared in disbelief. "Oh, no!" she screamed. "Oh, no. You're not serious!" Janis relocked the door. "I'm not surprised," she said. "Happens all the time."