“Pardon me, ma’am,” a strange man said. “Would you mind if I join you?”
“Excuse me?” I spat back with shock, confusion, and disgust vivid on my face. Then I remembered . . .
It’s not often that I forget who I am and what I look like since the Great Shift landed me in the body of a sexy young woman living in California. There are plenty of reminders after all. My voice is perpetually high and sensual, and even the way I pronounce words is somehow distinctly feminine. There’s the long hair that gets in my eyes, or the longer nails that click against hard surfaces. Every glance in a mirror or chance reflection in a window confirms my feminine identity. There’s the way my clothes cling and stretch around my curves or the fact that I even HAVE curves, bouncing breasts, hips that swing side to side, a tight, grabbable ass. Once a month, I get a very distinct and uncomfortable reminder that all my plumbing is female as well, though sitting down to pee and wiping my vagina confirm that too, as does the pleasure I’ve been able to achieve with that new plumbing. And then, of course, there’s the way that men stare at me with the same lustful gaze that this stranger has in his eyes. The regular bombardment of male attention I receive is an almost constant reminder of sexy female I’ve become.
But sometimes, I still forget. It’s not often, and it’s usually when I’m very calm, doing something I’ve always done. I might be reading a book, listening to music, or enjoying a cup of coffee. Today it was simply taking in a beautiful view before I go swimming. My mind wanders, perhaps recalling memories of the man I used to be before I traded my swim trunks for a bikini. I simply exist. But then, something always manages to pull me out of it, often with a bit of a shock.
“So sorry to bother you,” the man apologized. “I just thought you might like some company, but I don’t want to intrude.”
The man was polite – and not bad on the eyes either. In fact, the tall, dark, and handsome stranger might be a better view than the scenery in front of me, especially that bulge in his tight, red swim trunks. And then I felt the familiar stirring between my legs that had made it so easy for me to embrace my new life. “Actually,” I said with a smile, “I would LOVE some company.”
