Jan
Copyright© 2010 by Janna Leonard
Chapter 3
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 3 - What would you do if you were changed into a woman without your permission, or actively seeking such a change? How would you cope? Who would you tell? Is "Hi Mom, it's me," enough of an explanation? This is a fantasy, because the Institute doesn't exist in Champaign or anywhere else, but it was fun to write. Codes are minimal and will be added as I go, the chapters will be posted as fast as they come back from the editor. Happy reading!
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Romantic BiSexual TransGender Fiction First Oral Sex Masturbation Foot Fetish
The cab ride was short and pleasant; it was almost eleven in the morning, warm and sunny, and I was going home. Amber chattered as we rode, speaking about the things she was interested in at home. I caught a reference to Jeanette more than once and was happy I'd chosen something Amber was familiar with.
We got inside with her luggage and turned the air on; the place was clean and tidy, much more so than when I had left. The refrigerator had been filled with fresh food, including milk and a six-pack of my favorite beer. We got Amber settled into the spare bedroom, and while she changed clothes I made a list of things to buy.
Amber was only able to stay until the end of August; school for her began right after the Labor Day holiday, and I wanted to make the most of the limited time we had together. The Fourth of July celebrations were beginning — today was the 3rd — so after Amber changed into shorts and a cute top, we drove to Wal-Mart.
She helped me pick out the basics of a wardrobe. I was reminded that I was still growing, so we made do with three bras, all soft cotton and unlined. I ended up with socks, two pairs of shoes — heels would come later — and an even dozen outfits of the 'mix and match' variety, such as skirts, tops, blouses, slacks and so on. Amber watched and commented as I bought some stockings, two slips, two packages of panties, a really nice skirt and sweater outfit and two nighties.
We had pizza delivered for supper, and then Amber helped me sort through my 'man clothes', so familiar from the past, and yet so foreign to me now. I kept two sweat shirts and half-a-dozen T-shirts to sleep in or for warmth, and earmarked the rest for donation to a thrift store. None of my shoes or boots were wearable, my cold-weather stuff was way too big, and the underwear was impossible. We put everything in bags and then the bags were put into the back of the pickup for future delivery. We chatted for a little while after that, and then I went to get ready for bed.
I was in the shower just getting wet and heard Amber ask, "Would you like me to wash your back?"
I think she was just curious about my body, and I hadn't seen her nude since she was a toddler, so I thought, 'why not?'
When I peeked out of the curtain to tell her yes, she was holding a T-shirt over her chest, blushing quite pink. I smiled and held the curtain open while she dropped the shirt and stepped inside. It was a little cramped, but we made do. I handed her my body puff with some soap on it, and she "scrubbed" my back. I heard her giggle when she ran her hands over my butt.
I kept my thoughts to myself as I washed her. She was about 5'4" or so, pale-skinned and freckled all over. Her skin was smooth and firm — lightly muscled, befitting her sex and size — and her round little bottom was the cutest thing I'd seen in years. Her perky breasts were smaller than mine, little mounds of perfection with pretty pink nipples. I wanted to hug her.
As we dried off, glancing at each other, she asked, "Can I sleep with you tonight?"
A few of my male thoughts surfaced for a second or two and then I said, "Okay." She was my child, looking to me for comfort, and she trusted me. I didn't dare abuse that trust.
Panties and T-shirts were the uniform of the evening, and we sat on the couch, nibbling popcorn and watching TV for an hour or so before heading for my bedroom. She wanted the inside next to the wall, and we lay down and I turned off the light. She cuddled close, putting her arm on my stomach, and I put an arm on her shoulder. Her warm breath on my nipple made it crinkle up and tingle for a bit, but then she moved away a few inches. Her breathing slowed, she mumbled "I love you ... nite-nite," and fell asleep. I followed her into dreamland almost immediately.
We stayed home the next three days, cleaning, sorting and putting things away. I made a quick trip to the grocery store for a few things she liked to eat, and she helped me clean out the motor home.
During our first full day together, she taught me what she knew about makeup. Her mother hadn't allowed her to have very much, so I learned about blusher, eye-liner and lipstick. I liked the lip gloss the best. The second day she told me a lot about clothes and shoes, and how to wear something in a flattering way.
For the next week, I was kept busy acclimating myself to clothing and shoes. Amber and I went shopping daily, sometimes buying only one or two items. She was constantly on the alert for women who were wearing nice clothes, then pointed them out to me and gave me the details of why they were unique — the style, the cut, the color, the fabric and so on.
High heels were easier to get used to than the lower-heeled shoes, and I soon got familiar with the zipper or the buttons in an unusual place, or the waistband wrapping the "wrong" way. Amber cautioned me daily about sitting properly and keeping my legs together; I told her that I felt naked when I was wearing a short skirt. It got easier with time.
My breasts grew enough to overfill my B cup bras, and the pressure against them felt like protection. When I slept I used a T-shirt to cover them. Similarly, I slept with my sex covered by panties or loose shorts. Don't ask me why, but I felt protected with something on my body. Amber was the same way, and sleeping together became the norm.
On the 7th, Monday, Kim came to the house and we took care of business. At the DMV, Kim and I took a number, and when it was called stepped up to the counter. I gave a smiling young woman Allan's driver's license; she looked at Kim and got a nod and a smile. Then she had me stand in front of the camera, I saw the flash, and less than two minutes later I was officially licensed to drive in Illinois. A few minutes with another smiling clerk netted titles in my new name for all of my vehicles. Insurance was handled with a phone call, and I was set.
The bank was a little different in that we had to ask for someone specific, John Wells, but after signing a few papers and showing my new identification, I was once again in control of my funds. I got twenty temporary checks to use until my pre-printed ones came, and I withdrew a few hundred in cash for spending money. Kim asked for a deposit slip, and I gave her the account number.
I endured the weekly visits with Kim at the house and the every other week trip to the Institute. My health was excellent and I was in prime condition, according to the doctors. Masturbation was a daily occurrence, usually in the dead of night so as not to wake Amber. Sometimes one wasn't enough; sometimes three weren't enough. I coped.
I started my period the 4th of August, and it lasted four days. It wasn't painful like a broken bone, but constantly feeling like you're going to heave last Thursday's brunch is very uncomfortable. It was also the very thing to keep one's libido in check; I didn't even think of masturbating. The mess wasn't very much, easily contained by frequently changed tampons and a panty liner. Amber had to help me with the first few; I had a genuine reluctance to put anything inside my body. All things considered, it wasn't too bad.
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