The Knock On The Door

I’m in love with a girl who barely knows I exist. Her name is Carmen. She has beautiful dark eyes and hair and lives in my apartment building. When I see her, all I can manage is a lame hello, then I hurry away in embarrassment. But at night, as I lay in bed, I think of her. In my fantasies, I’m cool, I’m suave, I say the right things. I wish she would come to my door, that she would come to me. I open my eyes and know something is wrong. This isn’t my room. I get out of bed and feel movement on my chest. Breasts! Big beautiful breasts! I look in a mirror and see , Carmen! I’m her! How is this possible? If I’m her, is she now me? I have to find out. I leave her apartment and head for my old one. As I climb the stairs, I can feel the sway of my womanly hips, the caress of my long hair on my shoulders and the jiggle of my breasts. The eroticism is not lost on me and I begin to feel aroused. If Carmen is in my body, I wonder what she is doing. Is she examining her new cock? Is she playing with it? Is it erect and hard? What will it feel like to me now? As I knock on the door, I realize my wish has come true. Carmen has just knocked on my door and is coming to me.


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