Jumped the Gun at Bikini Beach
“Hey hun, I am going to take you on a little surprise date this Friday,” My girlfriend exclaimed over our weekly meet up at our wine bar. That is all it was supposed to be, a surprise.
Tag Archives: @AshleyAllison
It Started With A Vacation.
I had a dirty, little secret; I enjoyed body swapping while my wife was away on business trips. Not that I did it obsessionally, just every couple months to forget my daily troubles and live in the world of someone else.
Hiding a Straight Secret
I felt my girlfriend grope my breast as I awoke. Yep, this would be day 38 as a girl after contracting a nasty case of the Gender Flu. Not to worry, this virus has extremely low chances of being contagious, not that I would mind if my girlfriend go it. Don’t get me wrong, her effort to be sensual with me is awesome, especially since she is thoroughly straight. I really never knew my chest could be an erogenous zone! But I pinch myself every time I admit this, I think I am straight too, for a woman that is. I haven’t told her, nor do I think I will. Hell, I don’t even know if our relationship could survive that admission even once I turn back to normal. I love hearing her pant as we mutually handle each other with dildos, but my fondness for that nowadays is more out of mutual affection rather than romantic passion. Meanwhile my eyes are shut as she plunges the vibrating dildo inside of me, my mind wandering to what it would be like if she got the Gender Flu and was pounding away at me. Even kissing is a chore, she doesn’t taste nearly as good to me as she used to and guiltingly I feel some antipathy kissing another woman. Yes, I’ve accepted that fact, and I had to get a temporary driver’s license reflecting my new form.
To a Fault, Compliant to Tradition
Ever since ancient times, our pastoral town practiced a pagan tradition, welcoming spring by sacrificing the genders of four young men. I know what you are thinking, magic doesn’t exist. Wrong. The Stone of Venus exists. The lottery, the first stage in the Metamorphosis Ceremony came that year, and without fail my name was read from the hundreds of slips of paper that represented our community’s young men. My stomach dropped sick knowing the implication, and what it meant to refuse; even in 2016, declining the ceremony meant banishment from your friends, family, and our otherwise picturesque town. As fearlessly as I could, I let go of my girlfriend’s hand and kissed her tenderly on her forehead in the knowledge this would be our last romantic moment together. She stared aghast as I stepped forward through the crowd. My own Mother was picked many years ago, and now I would follow in her footsteps. ‘Come, come,’ I was ushered by my townspeople to the trail that would lead me to the the Stone of Venus in the grotto.
Dollar Bills in Vegas
Giddy in the knowledge of my prospective job, I dreamt of all the smooth bodies, gyrating hips, and freed breasts I would peek at for free. Not that that was my main motivating factor for my career change, I needed money. The global recession hit, and my liberal arts college degree couldn’t cut me more than a retail job. ‘Why not strip?’ I comically contemplated. Only one problem, guys don’t make much stripping. So in a moment of brilliance and to my parent’s and sibling’s consternation, I went to the Venus Clinic and punctually moved to Las Vegas.