2:45am. It was another late night working in my home office and I had to take a break.  I got up from my computer and walked over to my bookshelf.  Picking up a picture of my wife, I remembered that she tempted me with sex if I got to bed early.  I guess that was her way to get me to work less but I got so caught up in my work, I lost track of time.  And besides, I needed to get this work done.   Each hour I billed was money I needed to provide for my family another month.  Man, I hated being self-employed.

The hours were long, but I was able to make enough money for my family to have what it needed, and a little extra for what they wanted.  But it came with a price, and that price was my happiness.  Gone were the days it satisfied me to endure long hours working just knowing I was providing for my family.  I began to hate my life, and felt a prisoner in it.  I needed a change.  I loved my family and wanted to give them what they needed, but did my personal happiness have to be given up too?  I hadn’t been able to go out socially much in the last few years, and was starting to lose any spec of self-identity I had left.  I wanted my family to be happy, including me.  Was that too much to ask?

I examined the picture.  God, Meghan was beautiful.  She was the only woman I knew that got more attractive after having kids.  That natural beauty she had was rare.  She managed to look hot without even trying and could turn heads just wearing a pair of gym shorts or sweatpants and a t-shirt.   She had always had a nice figure, but didn’t have many curves when she was younger.  But after 2 kids, her hips widened, giving her those feminine curves.  She now had a sexy sway when she walked that had been lacking before.  And with some good fortune, I was able to provide her a new pair of breasts.  They were now about a C cup, full and perky.  Not “pornstar” size but instead they actually looked very natural on her frame.  So now her body had a very nice hourglass shape.  Still being able to be a stay at home mother, even though the kids were in elementary school now, allowed her to spend ample time at the gym.  She always complained she “wasn’t good at anything”.   I secretly begged to differ.  Aside from her being a good wife, mother, and friend, she was really good at taking care of herself.  At 32, she had the body of a woman 10 years her younger.  She stood about 5’7 and weighed about 125lbs.  She had full, wavy long blond hair that ran well past her shoulders.  Her slender shoulders and arms exaggerated her new breasts, and her flat stomach accented her waist line.  No “love handles” or “muffin top there; no way, she wouldn’t have it.  And her hips were curvy and full, yet athletic; and wholly feminine.  Her legs were amazing; long, tanned, and toned.  Even her feet were sexy.  They were, for the lack of a better word, dainty.  They were slim, smooth, and small; almost pixie-like.  Her arches were well defined, and her slim toes lined cascaded across her foot.  I had actually developed a small foot fetish because her feet were so nice.  Meghan’s skin had almost no blemishes, no spider veins or scars that you would typically see in a 32 year old mother of 2.  That’s what free time, a personal trainer, a tanning bed, and dedication to a healthy diet will do for you I guess.  I, on the other hand, had not aged well.

Long hours at work resulted in a poor diet and lack of exercise.  I was easily 30 pounds overweight.  I was shorter than her (which bothered me still even after all of those years), and my skin was pale from the lack of outdoor time.  But, for some reason, Meghan still loved me.  I guess it was because I sacrificed so much for her and the kids.  It was clear to her that I always put her first.  That, and (not to brag) I think I was pretty good in bed and could make her orgasm several times in one session.  I loved to make love to her.  Watching that beautiful creature moving around on top of me or wrapping those legs around me was heavenly.  She had no inhibitions in bed, and loved to get fucked.  It made me so happy to make her cum, and so I strived to make it happen not only every session, but multiple times in a session. 
Turning back to my computer, I saw it was finished processing some files, and I set the picture down and seated myself back in front of it.  It was like a hostage walking back into his cell and clamping the ball and chain back to his ankle.  Pushing on, I wrapped up what I needed to and laid my head down on my desk.  I was exhausted.  I was sad.  I was miserable.  I didn’t want to continue like this anymore.

As I laid there hunched over my desk, I closed my eyes and began pondering my unhappy predicament.  How did things get to this point?  What could I do to change this?  As I searched for answers, my tired mind began wandering.  I began thinking about the picture of my wife on the bookshelf.  She was happy.  She had everything provided for her.  She was beautiful and everyone desired to be around her.  Why did I have to do all the work while she reaped all the rewards?

As my mind raced in this new direction, images of her beauty ran through my mind and I began fantasizing about fucking her.  Falling asleep, the fantasy continued as a dream.  She was wearing a dark pink lycra chemise and strappy black five inch high heel sandals.  It was my favorite outfit for her, and she only wore it on special occasions.  I imagined I was lying on the bed, her straddled on top of me, riding on top of me upright so I could see all of that beautiful body of hers.  Leaning slightly forward on top of me, she braced herself with her hands on my chest, her long blond hair falling over the front of her shoulders.  Eyes locked on mine, she continued rocking her hips methodically, her sexy high heels rubbing slightly against my thighs.  I could feel her coming close to an orgasm. Her breathy panting was always so sexy.  And as she began building up to a climax, her eyes closed and she bit her bottom lip as it usually did, a sign of the joy that what was about to happen.  I could feel her thighs tighten around me as she squeezed her pussy around my cock to maximize her orgasm.  I closed my eyes, taking in the sensations.

Suddenly, I felt my weight change and felt myself sitting up.  Startled, I opened my eyes.  As I opened them, I was looking down at myself and strands of blond hair were in my peripheral vision.   Before I could react, the most erotic feeling radiated through my body and warm waves of pleasure ran through me.  The feeling was incredible.  But as quickly as it happened, it had ended and I awoke. Waking from the dream sweaty and with a huge erection, I remembered everything.  That brief moment of being Meghan, even for those few seconds, captivated me.
At that point, something inside me changed, and things were clear.  My questions were answered.  I had been spending my whole life providing my wife with everything that she needed and wanted.  The sacrifices I made for her benefit were causing me to envy her.  And as things for me got worse, I pampered her even more, mutating that envy into something more demented.  The best way I can describe it is like I was prepping her; giving her all the opportunities and tools to be beautiful and have a fulfilling life.  Why? Because I wanted her life.  I wanted to be Meghan.
The realization made me sick and I spent several minutes disgusted with myself for even thinking that.  As I tried to shake the thought of wanting her life, I realized I still had an erection.  Convincing myself that all I needed to do was go upstairs and wake my wife for quickie and then fall asleep, I would forget about all of this come the morning.
2:45am. It was another late night working in my home office and I had to take a break.  I got up from my computer and walked over to my bookshelf.  Picking up a picture of my wife, I remembered that she tempted me with sex if I got to bed early.  I guess that was her way to get me to work less but I got so caught up in my work, I lost track of time.  And besides, I needed to get this work done.   Each hour I billed was money I needed to provide for my family another month.  Man, I hated being self-employed.
The hours were long, but I was able to make enough money for my family to have what it needed, and a little extra for what they wanted.  But it came with a price, and that price was my happiness.  Gone were the days it satisfied me to endure long hours working just knowing I was providing for my family.  I began to hate my life, and felt a prisoner in it.  I needed a change.  I loved my family and wanted to give them what they needed, but did my personal happiness have to be given up too?  I hadn’t been able to go out socially much in the last few years, and was starting to lose any spec of self-identity I had left.  I wanted my family to be happy, including me.  Was that too much to ask?

I examined the picture.  God, Meghan was beautiful.  She was the only woman I knew that got more attractive after having kids.  That natural beauty she had was rare.  She managed to look hot without even trying and could turn heads just wearing a pair of gym shorts or sweatpants and a t-shirt.   She had always had a nice figure, but didn’t have many curves when she was younger.  But after 2 kids, her hips widened, giving her those feminine curves.  She now had a sexy sway when she walked that had been lacking before.  And with some good fortune, I was able to provide her a new pair of breasts.  They were now about a C cup, full and perky.  Not “pornstar” size but instead they actually looked very natural on her frame.  So now her body had a very nice hourglass shape.  Still being able to be a stay at home mother, even though the kids were in elementary school now, allowed her to spend ample time at the gym.  She always complained she “wasn’t good at anything”.   I secretly begged to differ.  Aside from her being a good wife, mother, and friend, she was really good at taking care of herself.  At 32, she had the body of a woman 10 years her younger.  She stood about 5’7 and weighed about 125lbs.  She had full, wavy long blond hair that ran well past her shoulders.  Her slender shoulders and arms exaggerated her new breasts, and her flat stomach accented her waist line.  No “love handles” or “muffin top there; no way, she wouldn’t have it.  And her hips were curvy and full, yet athletic; and wholly feminine.  Her legs were amazing; long, tanned, and toned.  Even her feet were sexy.  They were, for the lack of a better word, dainty.  They were slim, smooth, and small; almost pixie-like.  Her arches were well defined, and her slim toes lined cascaded across her foot.  I had actually developed a small foot fetish because her feet were so nice.  Meghan’s skin had almost no blemishes, no spider veins or scars that you would typically see in a 32 year old mother of 2.  That’s what free time, a personal trainer, a tanning bed, and dedication to a healthy diet will do for you I guess.  I, on the other hand, had not aged well.
Long hours at work resulted in a poor diet and lack of exercise.  I was easily 30 pounds overweight.  I was shorter than her (which bothered me still even after all of those years), and my skin was pale from the lack of outdoor time.  But, for some reason, Meghan still loved me.  I guess it was because I sacrificed so much for her and the kids.  It was clear to her that I always put her first.  That, and (not to brag) I think I was pretty good in bed and could make her orgasm several times in one session.  I loved to make love to her.  Watching that beautiful creature moving around on top of me or wrapping those legs around me was heavenly.  She had no inhibitions in bed, and loved to get fucked.  It made me so happy to make her cum, and so I strived to make it happen not only every session, but multiple times in a session. 
Turning back to my computer, I saw it was finished processing some files, and I set the picture down and seated myself back in front of it.  It was like a hostage walking back into his cell and clamping the ball and chain back to his ankle.  Pushing on, I wrapped up what I needed to and laid my head down on my desk.  I was exhausted.  I was sad.  I was miserable.  I didn’t want to continue like this anymore.
As I laid there hunched over my desk, I closed my eyes and began pondering my unhappy predicament.  How did things get to this point?  What could I do to change this?  As I searched for answers, my tired mind began wandering.  I began thinking about the picture of my wife on the bookshelf.  She was happy.  She had everything provided for her.  She was beautiful and everyone desired to be around her.  Why did I have to do all the work while she reaped all the rewards?
As my mind raced in this new direction, images of her beauty ran through my mind and I began fantasizing about fucking her.  Falling asleep, the fantasy continued as a dream.  She was wearing a dark pink lycra chemise and strappy black five inch high heel sandals.  It was my favorite outfit for her, and she only wore it on special occasions.  I imagined I was lying on the bed, her straddled on top of me, riding on top of me upright so I could see all of that beautiful body of hers.  Leaning slightly forward on top of me, she braced herself with her hands on my chest, her long blond hair falling over the front of her shoulders.  Eyes locked on mine, she continued rocking her hips methodically, her sexy high heels rubbing slightly against my thighs.  I could feel her coming close to an orgasm. Her breathy panting was always so sexy.  And as she began building up to a climax, her eyes closed and she bit her bottom lip as it usually did, a sign of the joy that what was about to happen.  I could feel her thighs tighten around me as she squeezed her pussy around my cock to maximize her orgasm.  I closed my eyes, taking in the sensations.

Suddenly, I felt my weight change and felt myself sitting up.  Startled, I opened my eyes.  As I opened them, I was looking down at myself and strands of blond hair were in my peripheral vision.   Before I could react, the most erotic feeling radiated through my body and warm waves of pleasure ran through me.  The feeling was incredible.  But as quickly as it happened, it had ended and I awoke. Waking from the dream sweaty and with a huge erection, I remembered everything.  That brief moment of being Meghan, even for those few seconds, captivated me.

At that point, something inside me changed, and things were clear.  My questions were answered.  I had been spending my whole life providing my wife with everything that she needed and wanted.  The sacrifices I made for her benefit were causing me to envy her.  And as things for me got worse, I pampered her even more, mutating that envy into something more demented.  The best way I can describe it is like I was prepping her; giving her all the opportunities and tools to be beautiful and have a fulfilling life.  Why? Because I wanted her life.  I wanted to be Meghan.

The realization made me sick and I spent several minutes disgusted with myself for even thinking that.  As I tried to shake the thought of wanting her life, I realized I still had an erection.  Convincing myself that all I needed to do was go upstairs and wake my wife for quickie and then fall asleep, I would forget about all of this come the morning.

As I slowly trotted upstairs, I laid out plans on how I would wake her, and all that I would do to her.  Opening the door to our bedroom, I saw her laying there sleeping peacefully in the dimly lit room.  As I walked to her side of the bed, anticipation grew, and so did my erection once again.  Putting my hand on her shoulder, I brushed her hair over her shoulder, waking her ever so gently.  Seeing my chance, I slowly kissed her neck.  Arching her back in pleasure, she knew my intentions.  She smiled a bit and said in a sleepy voice, “I’m sorry honey, you’re too late.  Get some sleep.  I love you.”  Disappointed and a little frustrated that I missed my chance because I worked so late, I turned to go to the bathroom to get ready for bed.  It was then that I saw one of her vibrators laying on her nightstand; and I realized I was too late because she had already tended to herself while I was hard at work.  I became furious and began to fall apart.

Looking back, its amazing how one simple thing could totally set you off.   Retreating through the bathroom and into our closet, I closed the door and sat down and cried.  The feeling of rejection set in.  How selfish could she be?  She knew all I wanted to do was be with her, and instead of coming down to me to save me from my work, she lay in bed and masturbated?  Did she prefer to cater to her own needs because she didn’t desire me?  Tears began to roll down my face.  I had hit rock bottom and didn’t know how to change.  I hated my life and I didn’t want to live it anymore.

Looking up, I glanced at Meghan’s side of the closet with all of her pretty clothes and shoes lined up and organized perfectly, the polar opposite of my side of the closet.  Memories of her wearing some of those clothes fueled my envy of her.  In those memories, she was smiling.  She was happy.  She was desired.  I wanted to be smiling.  I wanted to be happy.  I WANTED TO BE DESIRED.  I WANTED TO BE HER. I DESERVED TO BE HER.  I NEEDED TO BE HER.

And with that thought, my guilty realization I had been trying to keep buried erupted inside of me like a volcano.  My heart raced as my mind fantasized about being her and living her pampered life.  I knew I would not be satisfied until this happened.  I had to fulfill this, my darkest desire.

My emotions overwhelmed me, and a sharp pain shot right behind my eyes in all the stress and anxiety.  It seemed that the lights went out, but I was unsure as the intense pain in my head mounted.  Suddenly through the darkness came a bright light and it consumed me.  Its warmth filled me and I felt peace.

“Mommy!” shouted one of my kids.  I shot out of bed, startled by my child.  Trying to collect myself, I realized I was on Meghan’s side of the bed.  Thinking I had just slept very hard and drifted to her side, I told my son to go downstairs and I’ll be down in a bit. 

“Hey buddy, I’ll be down in a minute”, I said.
 
Hearing my voice I screamed.  It didn’t sound like me at all.  Looking down, blond hair fell in front of my face and two mounds protruded from under my t-shirt.  Looking further down, I saw a pair of slender, tan, hairless legs.  But it was my feet that confirmed everything.  Those dainty, pixie-like feet.  Only Meghan had feet so cute.  I screamed again, but this time the scream was more like a shriek, and my child began to cry from being scared himself.

Instinctually, I kneeled down and comforted my child.  In the calmest voice I could muster, I told him he scared me, and I was sorry I screamed.  Sending him downstairs, I heard a voice.  “Meghan, is everything OK up there?”

What the fuck?  That was my voice.  What the hell was going on?  Realizing he was waiting for a response, he said, “Meghan?”

“Sorry!” I said in the most cheerful voice I come up with.  “He scared me when he woke me up so I screamed”.

“Oh, OK.”  He said.  “Can you come down?  I have the kids almost ready for school, but I could use some help.”

Looking at the clock, I saw that it was almost 8:00am, and the kids needed to get on the bus any minute. 

“Be down in sec honey.” I said.  Those words sounded foreign and I knew I was faking to be her.

Knowing my time was limited, my heart raced.  I had so many questions, but did not want to alert anyone to what had happened.  I decided I would continue to fake being Meghan and get everyone out the door, and then regroup myself when I was alone.

In nervous anticipation, I walked into the bathroom.  Our bathroom was very large, large enough, in fact, to put a full length mirror in it.  Stepping in front of it, my heart stopped when I saw the reflection before me.  There stood Meghan wearing just an oversized tee-shirt that just covered a pair of panties with messy long blond hair falling in every direction.

I looked down to confirm what I saw was identical to what was in the mirror.  I could not believe it.  How did this happen?  I remembered the events from the previous night, but had no memory of what happened after the white light.  Who is the guy downstairs?  Is he me?  Is Meghan in my body?  So many questions, but I did not have time right now.  I did not want to rush to conclusions, and I knew I would have time in 5 minutes to sort this all out.

Collecting myself, I walked into the closet and instinctually picked out a pair of my shorts.  As I started to put them on, I realized they were mine and if I put them on, it would obviously seem strange, so I put them back and walked over to Meghan’s side of the closet.  A rush of adrenaline pumped through my veins.  My fantasy was coming true.  But having no answers as to how this happened and what would happen next, I was scared to death; which took a much of the excitement out of the moment.  Picking a pair of her gym shorts, I slid them on, relishing the feeling of the material against my smooth legs.  They fit snug around my hips and ass, but the large tee-shirt hid some of what I thought might be a nice view.

Walking past the mirror, I consciously decided not to look.  I needed to stay in character for a bit and did not need any more distractions at the time.  I walked downstairs and was greeted by, well, me, for lack of a better word.  He kissed me on the cheek and said, “I was up late, but wanted to let you sleep in.  You looked so cute snuggled up when I went to bed.  Can you get the kids their backpacks while I pack up my stuff to go to the office?”

“Sure…  And thanks for….” My mind could not find the words to say I was so nervous.  “letting me sleep in.”  I faked a smile and proceeded to get the kids out the door.

Once they were off, I was relieved that half my mission was over.  But the second half was going to be the hardest.  Having to face “myself” and seem normal was key.  If he thought I wasn’t feeling well, he (or “I”, or whatever…) would call into work and tell them he would work from home today.  That would ruin my time to myself to figure things out.

Coming out of the garage from loading his car, he grabbed his coffee and took a sip.  He looked exhausted.  I looked at him for a moment.  I was always so good to Meghan.  I did things like he did this morning quite frequently.  In fact, when I was suffering the most, I did things like this, just because it emphasized to Meghan how much I cared about her.

Finishing his sip, his face became serious, sad even.

“I guess I’m headed out.  I’ll be home by 5:30 but will have work to do tonight probably”.  His face looked defeated and it was only 8:05 in the morning.

My heart sank.  I sympathized with him and he didn’t even know I knew how he felt.

“Have a good day honey.  I love you.  And I appreciate all that you do.”, I replied.

And with that, a smile came across his face.  I hadn’t heard those words in forever, and apparently neither did he.  Whatever was going on, I knew at that point he was me, somehow.  And it’s not that I didn’t know Meghan appreciated my sacrifices, but hearing those words I could tell, meant the world to him. 

He slowly came up to me and said, “You’re welcome Meghan.”  And with that, he gave me a kiss on the lips.

I should have seen that coming, and wish I had.  I fought back for a split second and he picked up on it.  “Crap, I blew it.” I thought to myself.

A look of rejection came across his face and it made me feel terrible.  Again, I knew how he felt.

Thinking quick, I replied, “I have bad breath”, trying to give a playful little grin, hoping he would feel better and be on his way.

“That’s OK”, he replied, believing he wasn’t being rejected.  As I turned away anxiously awaiting his departure, he came from behind me and gave me a playful pat on the ass.  I was surprised, not only because I wasn’t expecting it, but it made me feel good and I didn’t know why.

“I love you and have a good day”, he replied. 

“Have a good day too”, I replied.  I could no longer keep up the charade and fake saying that I loved him.  He was me, after all, right?

I was finally alone.  I sat down on the edge of the couch and hunched over.  My long hair was in my face and I tucked it behind my ears.  I was starting to feel a little more comfortable in Meghan’s body; my body.  Trying to sort things out, everything seemed to boil down to 3 questions.  First, how did this happen?  Second, will I change back?  Third, what am I supposed to do now?

I darted upstairs and tore apart the closet looking for clues on the white light.  It must have been what changed me, and maybe there was some evidence.  After combing through the entire closet for an hour, I found nothing; so much for answering question number one.

I sat down on the bed wondering if I ever changed back.  I ran back to the ransacked closet, sat in the same spot I did the night before, and tried to will the change back.  I tried to reverse my memories, but after a solid hour of effort, I realized I was just trying to convince myself that I wanted to change back, but I didn’t really.  My darkest desire had come true, and I did not want to change back; at least, not yet.  So much for answering question number two.

Walking back to the bedroom, I glanced at myself once again in the mirror.  God, Meghan was beautiful.  Realizing the rarity of the situation, I decided to inspect myself further.
Walking over to Meghan’s side of the sink, I grabbed a brush and began brushing my long golden locks of hair, with my eyes focused on myself in the mirror.  That beautiful wavy look of her hair soon came back and I felt good over my small victory.  Feeling confident that I could cope with my new reality, I decided to explore more.

I slowly pulled down my shorts, once again feeling the fabric against my soft legs.  I playfully scooped up my fallen shorts with my foot and flew them across the room, admiring my flexibility and long sexy legs.  My toes were painted pink and I loved looking down at my new tiny feet and actually I giggled to myself.  This was fun!

Standing closer to the mirror, I turned to the side and lifted my shirt up a little, admiring how my panties framed my hips and ass and how my tight waist complimented my ass.  As I rubbed my hand over my flat stomach, my long fingernails tickled it and the feeling sent a pleasant shiver over my new form.  Taking notice of this, I lifted my hands and examined them.  They were soft and delicate, so different when I was in my other body.  My fingernails were newly manicured, and I admired how the pink nails looked against my tan skin.

Up to then, I was having fun with this experience, but then I got scared.  What if Meghan was still inside this body and knew what was going on?  How would I answer to her if I ever changed back?  It was at that moment I finally had an answer to one of my questions, “What am I supposed to do now?”.  The answer was simple.  Enjoy it!  This, at the very least, was a vacation.  A vacation from 70 hour work weeks, from a fat, flabby body and feeling tired all the time.  A vacation from all the commitments and responsibilities I had.  I had an exact replica living my life and having to deal with that, fully capable of doing so.  If I didn’t cherish each moment I get to live this life and be this person, I would be wasting it, a regret I would not be able to live with if this opportunity went away and I had to go back to my old life.  And for all intents and purposes, if she was still inside this body, she already knew my secret desire and my marriage would be ruined anyway.

A feeling of relief came over me making this decision and I felt peace.  The same peace I felt when the white light engulfed me.  Smiling at the mirror, I flipped my hair back over my shoulder and looked into my new eyes and said, “Hi, my name is Meghan, nice to meet you!” I was grinning from ear to ear and I loved hearing those words.  I was truly having fun and happy.

Deciding to get more acquainted with my new body, I quickly took off my tee shirt and stood in front of the mirror once more.  Turning to look at my backside, I carefully inspected how my curvy hips and tight ass accented the small of my back, and how my long wavy blond hair fell lightly between my shoulder blades.

Turning to face the mirror, I inspected my chest.  My full breasts sat perfectly on my chest and I took the opportunity to cup my breasts and touch my nipples for the first time.  The feeling was electric.  I loved this whole event.  I had always wanted to comb over Meghan’s body in such detail, but was always afraid to ask her for fear of sounding like a pervert.

It was time for the final inspection.  Sliding my fingers between my hips and panties, I slowly separated them and carefully lowered them down, letting them drop to my feet.  Slowly I looked up from the floor and tried to see my new pussy from my own point of view, but the size of my breasts obstructed the quality view I was looking for.  Looking back at the mirror I took a step closer to get a good view of my new sex.   The sight was spectacular.  She had always kept herself shaved, and the sight of her succulent thighs and tight pussy made me tingle, and I could feel my new sex get a little wet.

 
Feeling that I crossed a line I wasn’t ready to cross yet, I pulled up my panties and put my shirt back on.  I had a lot to do and no idea how much time I had.

Lying on my side of the bed, I stared looking up at the ceiling.  I already decided I was going to assume Meghan’s life, but now I had to work out the details.  I was fortunate though.  I knew her for almost 17 years.  I knew her friends, her family, her acquaintances, her passwords to her computer, everything.  And since I had been as involved as a father, I knew our family schedule.  So for the most part, I felt like I could go through the motions and pass as her.

What I didn’t know where the fine details.  How to do her hair, her makeup, some of her gestures, what she ate; things like that.  And for that, I would have to do some research.  Thank goodness for the internet.

I began looking things up on the computer: how to curl my hair, how to apply makeup, how to take care of my skin.  Thanks to her smartphone, I could look up what she had been eating using an app she had to track her calories.  The resources were all there.  Of course, I couldn’t be an expert at all of this right away, its only natural it would take time.  But I didn’t know if I had time on my side or not, so I needed to be efficient on picking up these fine details.

I decided I would map out exactly what I needed to do every day for the next week or two.  And for that, the plan was relatively simple.  I would get the family out the door every morning, hurry to get any chores or errands done that needed to be, and then spend the remaining time researching these finer points.

I didn’t feel my plan was complete yet for some reason.  Something was missing.  But at least I had it a little more defined, and I felt like I needed to start right away, so I got up from my side of the bed thinking that would be the last time I’m on that side, at least until I changed back.   I wanted to get cleaned up first.  I stripped out of my clothes, my mind racing about all that I needed to learn.  How do I walk in heels?  Do my hips sway just like hers?  How should I wear my hair?

My first shower in Meghan’s body was, in a word, intoxicating.  I washed my skin with extreme precision, cherishing the moment.  The sensations felt great, but I knew I wasn’t ready to explore further right now; not yet anyway.  I wondered why she could never realize how lucky she was.  I loved her tremendously, despite her faults.  She never seemed grateful, probably because she never fully realized how fortunate her situation was.  She never thought about how hard I was at work while she was at the gym or getting her nails done.  That was evident in last’s night masturbation session while I was busting my ass trying to get projects done.  Did she even care or appreciate the life I provided for her?
 
As I watched the soap and water go down the drain, I felt free.  I felt I was washing the old Meghan off, and her remnants were going down the drain too.  Now was my turn to be her.  I had given her everything through my sacrifices and hard work.  It was like I was investing in her; allowing her to grow and flourish into a beautiful woman, now was time to cash in on my investment and reap the benefits myself.

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself, giggling to myself as I remembered to wrap it around under my arms and not my waist, covering my breasts.  Once again I stood in front of that mirror.  This was the new me.  The new Meghan.  I felt as if I were glowing.  I had never felt so happy, so fulfilled.

It was then I changed my plan.  I thought to myself “Why spend time trying to be the old Meghan.  I am going to be a better Meghan than she was!  I was going to be a better woman, a better mother, a better wife.”  A devilish grin appeared on my face in the mirror.  My plan was set.

The first few days flew by.  Although I vowed to be better than my wife living her life, I still had to adjust to living her life and acting like her.  But after a few days, I got into a rhythm and became comfortable.  Because it felt so right to be her, the adjustments got easier and easier.  I picked up on her mannerisms after watching old videos of her/us.  I was able to carry conversations with my old self, which I decided to keep calling “old self”.  My kids seemed unphased, and I enjoyed being able to spend more time with them.

I spent my days following my plan.  I got the family out the door, cleaned things up, did some chores and errands, and then sat in front of the computer soaking in new knowledge.  I had learned how to curl my hair, apply my makeup, and spent time practicing it.  Up until then, I was lucky her natural beauty could carry me enough to not feel too self-conscious.   Trips to the grocery store or dry cleaners were made in gym shorts and a tee shirt and I often had been tying my hair back in a ponytail.  Knowing it would be soon when I would have to get dressed up more and go out, I decided to test myself.
 
After spending all of that time practicing, and most importantly experimenting (I was going to be better at living Meghan’s life than she was after all), it was time for me to put it all together.  Considering things were getting a little too uneventful after a while,  I decided I would get dressed up and go to the mall for some shopping.  It would be my reward for passing the test.  If I didn’t pass, I would have to sit at home and keep practicing.

The next morning, the ritual was the same.  Once everyone was out the door I grabbed a shower, taking time to shave.  I carefully shaved my legs and pubic hair as to not cut myself.  I was in no hurry.  I had plenty of time, and enjoyed the experience.  I even scrubbed my feet to make sure they were nice and soft.  After the shower, I applied my lotion to my body, touched up my toe and nail polish, and stood before the bathroom mirror.

“What to do with my hair…” I pondered.  I had learned a few styles and needed to pick one.  I decided to accentuate what I loved about her hair and was going to keep it long and wavy.   I began the process, drying my hair with a blow-dryer.   My hair dry, and now in rollers, I proceeded to the closet.

Standing in front of all of Meghan’s clothes this time, the adrenaline and excitement was off the charts.  And it wasn’t cut short like the first times, wondering what happened, etc.  I didn’t care how it happened or anything; all I cared about was living my new life to the max and enjoying every minute of it.

I felt like a doll, able to dress Meghan’s sensual body in an array of clothes organized perfectly before me.  Laying out a pink thong and matching bra, I figured it was time I dressed sexier, and the underwear started it all off.  Next I chose a pair of dark blue boot cut jeans.  They just looked great on her.  The flare in the boot cut complemented her curvy hips and nice chest; while the bling on the butt really showed off her tight round ass.  I loved to see the old Meghan in them, but she never wore them.  She mentioned she thought they were too sexy and young for her.  The new Meghan begged to differ.  I picked out a nice cotton top, not a tee shirt for once.  It was pink, short sleeved, form fitting, and low cut, and I knew it would show off my cleavage.  I began to realize my new favorite color was pink and laughed at the irony.

After dressing, I did my makeup, waiting for the rollers in my hair to be ready to come out.  Foundation, eye shadow, eye liner, mascara, blush came next, but no lipstick.  It would be one of my finishing touches and learned it was best to pick out a color after you had everything else ready, and besides, you didn’t want it to get on your clothes.  Man, I loved the internet.  I had learned so much and it was all coming together. 

As I applied the makeup, I concentrated on each feature of my face, trying not to look at the overall masterpiece I was trying to create.  Lastly, I took out my rollers, bushed my hair and applied some hair spray, revealing elegant wavy long golden blond hair cascading down my head and flowing effortlessly over my shoulders and down to my shoulder blades.
Taking a quick look back, I caught a glimpse of the overall masterpiece, but tried not to pay attention.  Now for the finishing touch, lipstick.  In my case, I bought pretty pink lip gloss for this occasion.  The old Meghan didn’t wear it as much, fearing she would look too sexy or something.  I applied it liberally, and my lips dawned a shiny pink coating.  Taking a moment to stare at my mouth in the mirror, an image of them being wrapped around a thick cock ran through my mind.  The moment was fleeting, but vivid.  Was I starting to assume her sexual orientation?  Up until now, I had tried not to focus on that part of my new life because I did not want it to distract me from everything else going on.  Maybe things were changing.

I took a step back.  I looked absolutely gorgeous.  Perfect hair complemented a perfect face.  And my wardrobe was the perfect combination of mother/wife and young/sexy.  The clothes fit me in all the right places, and felt good against my skin.  I stepped to my favorite mirror, the full length mirror, to get a better view and that mirror confirmed the first mirror.  I was stunning.

I took a quick look down and realized my cute toes peeking out from my boot cut jeans.  “Shoes!” I exclaimed like an excited schoolgirl.  I hurried back to the closet to pick out something for my feet.

The options were more than ample.  As much as I wanted to wear the black five inch high heeled sandals, I knew it was not appropriate.  I had gotten good at wearing high heels, but purposefully did not try them on yet.  And besides, I don’t think a 32 year old mother and wife should go to the mall in the middle of the day wearing them.  Instead, I picked out a pair of black 3 inch heels.  The rounded toes accentuated my already small feet, and slipping them on, I knew I made the right choice.
With another trip back to my favorite mirror, I gave myself one final evaluation.  Did I pass my test?  Definitely.  It was time to go out into the world as the new and improved Meghan.

I felt like a celebrity stepping out of my car, and may have looked like one too if it weren’t for the fact that it was my minivan.  My feet touched the pavement of the parking garage with a confidence and energy that I never had in my old body.  Walking into the mall, I was planning my attack.

Although I did not have much money to spend, I knew that if I went a little bit over of my budget I would show off my clothes in a fashion show for my old self.  It worked on me when I was him.  I loved to see her dress up in outfits and model them for me.  I loved to see how they fit her nice body and I came to the conclusion that I must have subconsciously wanted to be her for longer than I realized.   Whenever I asked how much it cost, I wasn’t even listening at the response and I was just trying to play the breadwinner/husband role.  I was really so captivated with her and how lucky she was she had such a nice figure to show off. 

My first stop was a clothing store.  Hip, trendy, but not for teenagers, more like 20-somethings.  I walked in, purse in hand, having no idea what to expect.  A cute girl came from behind me. I must have missed her in the distraction of all the clothes and things I wanted to adorn on my new body.

“Hi, my name is Vanessa.  Can I help you find something?”  Vanessa asked.

“Um, yes.  But..” I replied, realizing I had no idea what I was really even shopping for.

Vanessa looked at me in anticipation for the remainder of my response.

Taking a deep breath, I said “I’m sorry; I just have no idea what I’m looking for.” 

I couldn’t believe how nervous I was but I was relieved when Vanessa replied, “No problem.  Let’s shop!”

And with that, I began to feel like a model getting ready for a shoot.  Vanessa spent all sorts of time with me telling me things that will compliment my figure, what colors are good, everything.  In the process, we shared information about each other.  She was 21 and enrolled at the local college and had a boyfriend.  She was very cute, about 5’4 with fair skin and straight black hair that ran down her back.  She had the deepest blue eyes too.

“So, do you have a date tonight or something?” Vanessa asked casually.

“No dates for me; can never find a babysitter.” I said jokingly.  It was just like Meghan would have said it.

“You have kids?  Really?”

“Yeah, two in elementary school.”

“Two in elementary school?” Vanessa repeated.

“Uh huh” I smiled.

“I had no idea; I thought you were about my age!  How old are you” she asked boldly.
“I’ll be 32 this summer”.

“Wow, I never would have guessed it.  You look amazing.  I hope I look like you when I’m 32.  Actually, I hope I look as good as you do when I’m 25!” Vanessa said with a smile.
The compliment warmed me and I felt amazing. 

“I never heard anything like that before. Thanks” I replied graciously.  I almost felt like crying it meant so much to me.
After that, Vanessa helped me pick out a very sexy outfit.  I black skirt and a fuchsia button down blouse.  It was ribbed and hugged my midsection, so it accented my breasts very nicely.

“For your date.  Whenever you get a babysitter.” Vanessa said as she handed me my shopping bag of new clothes.
 
“Thank you so much Vanessa.” I said appreciatively.  I smiled and strutted away with even more confidence than when I started.  This was going to be a fun shopping trip. 
I was glowing inside hearing my high heels click on the mall floor.  I had mastered walking in them and enjoyed it immensely.  The femininity they added to my walk; to me.  Thinking about what I needed to complement my outfit, I came across a shoe store.  “Perfect.” I thought to myself.

Following Vanessa’s advice, I was going to look for a pair of black boots to go with my skirt and top.  I browsed the selection, admiring all before me, wondering which will look best to try on.  I found a pair of 4 inch boots that went up to past my calf, pretty much to my knee. They had a cute little rounded toe I like to see Meghan wear and sexy stiletto style heels.  Finding my size, I tried them on.  Zipping them up I decided to take it slow, it was extremely sexy, and I caught a glimpse of a man passing by the aisle I was in checking me out.  A tingle went through me and settled in my crotch.

Standing up in them and walking to the mirror I realized that they would take a bit of practice, but I knew as soon as I saw them they were the ones to get.  Sure they looked funny with my jeans rolled up high right now, but they would be drop dead sexy when I wore the new skirt.  Finishing up the transaction, I realized I needed some new underwear to go with this ensemble.

I knew exactly which store to go to, VS.  Every other man’s dream was to be able to walk through there effortlessly and comfortably so no one would know of his excitement and fantasies running through his head.  I had been in a similar boat, but focused not on the pictures hanging of sexy models wearing hardly anything at all and not to mention the typically gorgeous women who worked there, but instead on how sexy Meghan would look in various things, the other pictures and saleswomen were almost non-existent I would be so focused on her.  And now was my chance to act out the fantasy on my own.

Being the middle of the day, and a weekday at that, the store was quiet.  I walked in and the anticipation of buying my first bra and panty set was more than I could take.  I tried to settle myself as one of the clerks asked me if I needed assistance.

“Yes, please…. Thanks.” I replied nervously.

“So what size are you?” asked the clerk.

My mind went blank.  I had all of Meghan’s measurements memorized, but in my nervousness, I couldn’t think. 

Seeing my mental lapse, the clerk asked, “Can I measure you and we’ll find out for sure?  Sometimes women go through life wearing the wrong size because they aren’t properly measured.” 

I think she was saying that to make me feel less nervous, and it worked.

“Sure” I replied as we walked into a fitting room.

Taking off my shirt I was left with just my bra.

“You’ll need to remove that too” The clerk said half-jokingly.

My heart raced.  This total stranger was about to see my breasts!  I was adjusting to this gift I was given; the gift of assuming Meghan’s life, but this was just crazy.  I wasn’t ready for this!

Trying to calm myself, I said, “Oh yeah, I’m sorry” in the ditsiest voice I could muster.

Removing my bra, my breasts were exposed.  With the clerk facing me, I saw her face perk up.

“Wow” she said.  And now she was the one nervous and embarrassed for commenting on me like that.

“Thanks” I replied.

The rest of the fitting went smoothly as it could and she found my size.  Knowing that, I could finish up shopping and left the fitting room.

I was torn between frilly and lacy, or silky and smooth.  It was tough choice, and I chuckled to myself at my predicament.  “How things have changed” I thought to myself.  Only a week or two ago I was stressing over how to resolve customer issue, if customers were happy, and how I would provide for my family another month.  And now my biggest decision and stress is between filly or silky.  “I love my life” I thought.

The decision was silky and smooth.  I bought a black bra and two matching panties.  One thong and one bikini style panty.  I paid for them and was on my way.

Deciding I had already gone over budget so I should leave, I walked past a sporting goods store and my mind deterred off track and I began thinking about my physical condition.  My plan had gotten so detailed that I had actually lost 2 pounds since I assumed Meghan’s life and body because I had followed her diet better than she had, and as a result, my measurements were slightly lower.  But I knew that I needed to keep working out to maintain this beautiful vessel, and my personal trainer had sent me an e-mail about where I’ve been.  Wanting to keep in the spirit of living a better life than the “old Meghan”, I thought it might be fun to get a new outfit of the gym.

“I’ll just take a quick look” I thought to myself, knowing another purchase was inevitable.

Walking to the women’s section, I enjoyed thinking about how certain things would look on me.  I wanted to turn heads at the gym, but didn’t want to look like a slut.  Some of Meghan’s friends worked out there, and I didn’t want to draw too much attention.  I found exactly the right thing.  A very form fitting (I didn’t want to admit it was tight) top that stopped just above my belly button, leaving the lower part of my abdomen exposed.  The shorts were hardly shorts, but were very trendy, even for women my age.  They were a spandex and were extremely short, the legs stopping just 3 or 4 inches or so from the crotch, so it looked like they would fit very tight around my hips and hug my ass, just covering it up.  A devilish grin came across me as I finished paying for my outfit and I looked forward to working out tomorrow.

That night when my old self came home, I told him about my shopping trip.  His face lit up, but he tried to cover up his excitement by saying, “Did you really need that stuff?  And how much did it all cost?”

Timing the conversation perfectly, I stepped out of the bathroom and into our bedroom wearing my black high heel boots, skirt, and new top.  I even teased my hair a bit before I made my grand entrance to add to the show I was going to give him.

My old self quickly sprung up from sitting on the bed to greet me.  Shocked to see his wife in such an outfit blew his mind.

“Oh my God, you look…” he paused trying to figure out the right words.  I knew he was fantasizing about me.  “Unbelievable” he finished.

“Do you like it?” I said teasingly turning a bit for him to see the whole package.

“I don’t know” he said.  “Let me see something”.

Walking up to me I was now 4 or 5 inches taller than him, and he walked up to me and had to look up into my eyes.  He quickly wrapped his hands around my waist and worked them down to my ass, clasping it firmly and pulling me close to him.  I could feel his erection growing and as my hips pushed into his and my breasts began to approach his chest.  Pulling me in, he kissed me.  Softly, at first, and then more passionately.  My body exploded and I got lost in the moment.  All the teasing I had just done to him pent up some sort of passion inside me and I needed his hands on my body, and I signaled for him to do so by slipping my tongue into his mouth, and then wrapping a leg around his, allowing him to support some of my weight while I rubbed closer on him with my thigh.  He began groping me, his hands exploring as fast as they could, but I liked it.  I loved it, in fact.  For a fleeting moment I questioned what I was doing, but my body was calling all the shots, not my brain.  I loved how my new body just reacted to this intimate attention, and I found myself lowering my hand down to his crotch to feel his erection through his dress pants. 

After a few minutes of passion, it was disrupted by a crying child.  We looked at each other and knew the drill.  My old self positioned his erection in his pants so it was no longer as noticeable and went to see what the fuss was about while I tore off my clothes and put my original ones on as quickly as I could to go tend to the child.  In the midst of it, I was surprised how natural that “drill” had occurred.  Once disrupted, we looked into each other’s eyes and knew exactly what to do.  It was comfortable to me, although I wasn’t happy the make-out session ended in the first place.  I pondered why I wasn’t more grossed out about the event.  Ever since I assumed Meghan’s life, I found women sexy, and felt a desire to explore that.  But the more time went on and I got to remain as her, the sight of men also became pleasing.  Maybe my mind is still into women, and my body is drawn to men.  If so, would there be a conflict?  Or would it all work out?  Or was she really bisexual and I didn’t know it?

And as I thought about it some more, I had realized I was acting like the old Meghan when making out.  I smiled.  One of my fantasies from before the change had just come true.  Before this gift, I wondered very often how it felt to be her while I was pleasuring her in some way, and fantasized about being her and feeling that pleasure.  And it felt even better than I could have fantasized.  In her body, I felt things with my whole body, where in my old one it was much more centered on my cock and what it felt.  In her body, even the feeling of how my skin on my legs as my boots rubbed against his leg was just as sexual as my hand rubbing his cock through his pants.  Each sensation was more sensitive than I fantasized about, and I found myself looking forward to exploring this further, but was beginning to believe that since her body practically took control with my old self, that she might have been bisexual.  Ultimately, I didn’t care.  I loved how this body felt and I loved my new life.  I did not want to go back, ever.

Not getting a chance to continue my short lived romance with my old self (partly out of fear and partly because of the kids), the night left me frustrated and I felt that my body needed to feel pleasure.  Torn on what to do, I slept little that night.  But when the morning came, I knew it was time to work off that frustration by exercising.

Wanting to look and feel good going into this new scene, I showered first and blow dried my hair, as opposed to just throwing on clothes and going.   I put my hair back into a ponytail, for practicality sake, and besides, she normally did it that way when she went to the gym.

Going to the closet, I was excited to try on my new outfit.  I actually didn’t try it on yet, I just bought it because it looked good on the mannequin.  The site of it on me might have been better than the mannequin.  I squeezed into a sports bra, pushing my breasts together and up.  I laughed as I hopped up and down quick, reveling in the sexy jiggle they did as I bounced.  Sliding the shirt on, it was a salmon color, sort of pink, which I knew was symbolic.  The shirt was tight, stopped at my midsection, and really showed off my assets.  My tits looked amazing in the shirt and keeping them so high and together accentuated my torso, leaving the most feminine curve to it.  The shirt just flat out showed off my flat soft stomach and tight midsection.  Meghan didn’t have a six-pack, nor did I want her to have one.  Her stomach was flat and trim, but soft and sexy.  This shirt allowed everyone to admire her hard work.  My hard work.

Sliding the shorts on, I was a little worried they were too short.  They were black, but had a stripe down the legs the same color as my top.  They stopped right below my ass, and at least they were so tight that they wouldn’t ride up on me.  Viewing myself from the front in the mirror, they shorts stopped about 3 inches past my pussy, and I admired that little v-shape of space that showed right under my pussy and between my thighs before my thighs came together.

Applying just a tiny bit of mascara and lip gloss, I slid on my socks and sneakers and was on my way.

As I drove to the gym, I wondered what this experience would be like.  As my old self, I rarely went to the gym because of my schedule, but when I was there, I felt invisible.  That feeling was good though because I didn’t want anyone to see me.  And the workouts were so awkward for me because I was out of shape, I left feeling embarrassed, and many time worse about myself than I went in.

Signing in, my trainer, Michele, came out of the office and greeted me.

“Hey stranger!” teased Michele.

“Hey.” I replied, trying to sound like I was guilty.  She had no idea how much of a stranger I really was.

“Looks like you’ve kept up your diet” commented Michele as she inspected my body and new outfit.

“New outfit?” She asked.

“Yup.  It’s a symbol of me starting over.  I’m reinventing myself” I said.  She had no idea the reality of those words, but understood enough to say, “Sounds like you worked things out then”.

What did that mean?  Was Meghan going through something that I had no idea about?  I needed to learn more.

“Let’s get going” Michele said.  She led me to the Stairmaster to get started.

As I warmed up on the Stairmaster, I could see the men trying to catch glimpses of me.  I loved the attention.  I wanted to be noticed.  I don’t know if I did it on purpose, but I could notice my hips swaying heavily as I did the stairs.  With my hips and ponytail swaying in unison, my heart rate began to rise.  I could tell I was starting to warm up.  And the more time I spent on it, the more I could see men trying to steal a good look at me, and positioning themselves around me to get a better view.  My adrenaline picked up, and I began to work harder.  I loved this.

Before long, my warm-up was done and Michelle reappeared.  “Ready for your stations?”  Meghan’s key to her success in the gym was a rigid schedule of circuit training.  There’s no way I could have kept up in my old body, and I looked forward to seeing how hers would perform.

After the second cycle around, we stopped for a short break and Michelle said, “I haven’t ever seen you work this hard Meghan.  It’s amazing.  I’m proud of you.  Keep it up, ok? 
Shocked that I was working harder than the old Meghan, I smiled.  I loved how this body felt, even when it hurt and was tired.   And I wanted to push myself hard in it to get it into even better shape than it already was.

“So, have you worked things out?” asked Michelle. 

I didn’t know how to respond and was in luck when she continued, “I had gotten worried about you when you told me you didn’t feel like you were making the most of your life and how you wished your husband could have a better life.  That was some pretty deep stuff.”

I had searched for clues to explain why this gift was given to me for the first week, but the more time passed, the less I searched because I stopped caring about how and why, and just relished in the gift itself.  Hearing her say that brought back all of those questions, and I sat there, breathing heavy, recovering, and using that as time to compose a response to her.

“Let’s just say that I was given a gift and I have a plan.  I’m new the new and improved Meghan.” I said, trying not to sound evil.  I somehow assumed Meghan’s body and decided to live her life, and not only that, improve it.  Furthermore, I had no intention of giving it back to her.  That alone was evil, but I continued to justify it to myself.  I did miss her at times, but I was having so much fun being her, I rarely thought about it.

“Based on what I’ve seen today, I’m impressed with the new Meghan and I can’t wait to see more.” Michelle said.  As the words came out of her mouth, she slid her hand over mine and gently caressed my leg in the process.   Her eyes lit up as I glanced up at her.

“Did she just make a pass at me?” I thought to myself, not at all offended by the notion.  Michelle was quite attractive and was obviously physically fit being a personal trainer.  She was about 24, small, standing maybe 5’3” and maybe weighed 105 lbs.  She had blond hair that ran just above her shoulders and nice tan skin.  Being so fit, she was not as curvy as me, but instead had a very tight ass and hips and was a smaller B cup bra size.  She was probably a little firecracker in bed I thought.

With a slightly embarrassed looking on my face, all I could reply was “Thanks.  Hopefully you will.”  After saying that, I thought she would interpret it as a positive response to her pass at me, and although unintentional, I was glad I left the option open.  The feelings I had been experiencing lately reacting to men and women had me on edge, and I knew all the attention and desire I had been receiving lately was building up inside of me, and the thought of wanting sex was hitting its breaking point.

Finishing the workout just as strongly as I started it, I kept my mind focused on the workout, but once it came time to cool down and stretch, my mind kept wandering to Michelle’s comments about the old Meghan’s happiness and concern over mine.  I kept wondering how that played into this change, or if it did at all. 

Eventually, I put it behind me and continued my cool down stretch and my attention drew to my body.  God, I loved being in this body.  I slowly stretched, carefully inspecting every inch of it.  I loved how I looked and felt in my new outfit.  My tan skin was glowing from the workout, and with the outfit, there was plenty of skin to see.   Staring in the mirror admiring myself, I was glad I was in the corner and could not be easily seen.  My vanity was obvious, and I was curious how I was so turned on by my own body.  I began massaging my legs, starting at my calves as I was sitting on the mat in front of the mirror and began watching myself in the mirror performing the act.  Before I knew it I found myself sitting upright “indian style”, massaging my inner thighs as I stretched them.  The view of myself doing such an act made my pussy very wet, and I instinctually bit my lower lip a little, absorbing the view as well as the feeling.
 
Quickly, memories of that special night’s fantasy came back, and I was imaging Meghan sitting shotgun on top of me, rocking those hips and biting her bottom lip slightly in anticipation of an orgasm.   Coming back to reality, I realized a man was starting his approach.

Although I was pretty sure he hadn’t seen me, I was trying to hide how turned on I was.   My whole body felt sensitive to the touch, so I tried to be still.  As the man approached, he lifted up his shirt to wipe his face and I caught a glimpse of his abs.  Damn, they were sexy.  He was built, athletic, but not a muscle head.  Strong shoulders and a powerful chest sat on top of those nice abs. He had short spikey black hair and chiseled face.  My heart began to race my sensitivity increased and my pussy became wetter trying to imagine what his cock looked like behind his shorts.

As he sat down a few feet next to me, he looked over at me and nodded with a smile.  I felt like a little kid, embarrassed and not knowing what to say.  As he stretched along side of me, my confidence restored, and I decided to have fun with the situation. 

Meghan’s yoga classes had helped her flexibility, so I decided to show it off to this man.  Starting off in a split down the middle, I could watch him out of the corner of my eyes trying to get a good view.   Trying to figure out what to do next, and not knowing much yoga, I stood up and keeping my legs straight, I bent down and was able to wrap my hands down my ankles.  Tilting just a bit to the side, I could see his cock getting a little stiff as he was pretending to do sit-ups.  This was fun.

As I finished stretching, I began to fantasize about him fucking me, and I gave in to thoughts of sucking on his cock, and how it would taste.  I was amazed that the thought did not disgust me and I did not care at all about feeling gay, I was a woman after all.  I wondered what it would be like to watch him put his cock in me for the first time, or have him fondle my breasts and suck on my nipples.  When the fantasy was almost too tempting, I realized I just couldn’t do that to my old self.  Just then, it hit me.  I needed to take this gift and not only treasure it myself, but help my old self enjoy it as well.
 
Deciding I had enough and was on the verge of cheating on my old self, I got up and began walking back to the locker room to get my things, but not before I gave a smile to the man and observed a throbbing cock from behind his shorts.

Getting home from the gym, my body begged for attention like it never had before.  Dirty thoughts ran through my mind.  I thought about that man fucking me and how that would feel, and how it would feel to be with Michelle and the new pleasures that meant, and even thoughts of my old self fucking me began to enter my mind.  Although my old body was absolutely nothing compared to the man in the gym, I was still attracted to my old self, and had really begun to separate “him” from “me”.  I was Meghan, and instead of feeling that I was my old self in Meghan’s body, I bought into the idea that I just knew my husband very well.  A totally different point of view than what was logical, yes, but it worked.  And I knew that before this gift I could please Meghan so I began to look forward to him doing the same to me.  Eventually, thoughts of seeing me in the mirror stretching at the gym re-entered my brain, and I was home before I knew it.

Having plenty of time to myself, I knew the time was right.  I needed to experiment with my new body. Drawing a bubble bath, I slid out of my sexy gym outfit.  The bath was nice, and I carefully shaved my legs and my pussy because I wanted to maximize my experience.  Viewing my cute feet poking out from the bubbles, I drizzled my lavender scented body soap over my sponge and began washing them, starting at my toes, between them, and working over the top of my feet and around to the side admiring my arches and then to the soles of my feet and finally my heels.    I just loved paying attention to the details of my sexy body.  I never had time like this before, and I reveled in having it.  Lifting my leg up higher, I ran the sponge up my leg, over my shin and then under to my calves and back of my knee, then over to the top of my knee and top of my thigh.  Before I knew it, I was working toward my inner thigh when I found myself instinctually using the my other hand to move over my pussy, rubbing my clit with two fingers.

Feeling a wonderful shock reverberate throughout my body, my back arched in pleasure and my breasts poked out from the bubbles.  Continuing to pay attention to my clit, my hand with my sponge in it quickly glided over my stomach and began running over my breasts.  As it rubbed over my nipples, I found my fingers rubbing my clit harder and my toes curled in reaction to the increase in intensity of the feeling.

The sponge continued to explore my body, and I began breathing heavy as my fingers continued to work my clit, finding the right spot and attacking it with reckless abandon.  I could feel it coming, my first orgasm, and I instinctually bit my bottom lip and closed my eyes tight, getting ready for it.  I had been wanting this, and I was about to get it.

Knowing I had to go to the store and run some errands before the kids came home, I decided to dress up a bit.  I wanted to look sexy for my old self when he got home too, and the idea of him fucking me tonight was not out of the question.  I began my new ritual of getting ready.  I laughed thinking about how simple things were when I was a man.  I took little time preparing myself to go out in the past and did not enjoy it.  Probably because I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror and thought it was a lost cause.  But now, I took more time, and enjoyed each experience as much as I could.

Turning on a little music, I began drying myself off.  Next was the lotion which I applied to my entire body, admiring my soft skin and toned body.  Then came the hair drying and the curlers followed by a trip to the closet to pick out my wardrobe.  Picking out the smooth black bra and silky thong I bought the day before, I effortlessly hooked my bra, letting it hold the weight of my breasts.  I cupped my breasts over my bra, feeling myself up.  The feeling of the silky bra over my hands was just as pleasurable as feeling my breasts being fondled.  Next, I slid the silky thong over my legs, feeling it come up over my newly shaven legs.  The thong fit well, and rode high on my hips, elongating my legs even further. 

Giving up on what to wear next, I went back to the bathroom sink and finished my makeup and hair, letting those wavy golden locks flow over my shoulders.  Taking a step back from the small mirror over the sink, I saw this stunning image of myself in just a bra, and a perfectly put together face.
 
“I look like a lingerie model.” I thought to myself, smiling.  The vanity I had no longer fazed me.  Wanting to challenge myself to really look like a lingerie model, I excitedly walked back to the closet with a bounce in my step.  “My plan was to be the better than the old Meghan, right?” I thought to myself.  And with that, I hunted down the pair of black 5 inch high heel sandals I loved.

Spotting them purposefully hidden in the corner so my kids could not find them, I pulled them out by the ankle straps.  Damn, they were sexy.  I hadn’t worn then yet.  As I was about to slide them on, I remembered my dream on that late night and how Meghan was fucking me and wearing those.  I changed my mind about trying them on.  “I need to save these for a special occasion” I thought.  I was proud of myself that I could assume Meghan’s life so perfectly that I would even honor the little traditions we had.  I longed to try them on, but I resisted, and put them back in their hiding spot.  Instead I picked out a pair of black 4 inch pumps,  They weren’t sandals, so they were closed toe, and didn’t show off my feet like I wanted, but they were sexy quite sexy nonetheless and would do just fine.

As I slid them on, my soft feet formed in the hard heel, but felt good against the soft padding in the shoe.  They were higher than I typically had been wearing, and as I finished sliding them on, my weight shifted with the height of the heel.  Looking down, I enjoyed the view.  My ample breasts cupped by the silky black bra, strands of blond hair tickling the side of my pretty face.  Looking over my breasts I had a view of my flat stomach and the silky and stretchy black thong covering up my new pussy, and then my long tan legs resting on sexy black heels.  The view began to make me tingle, and I caressed my new form with my soft delicate hands.  I had to see how this looked from the mirror.
Carefully walking to the full length mirror, my heels clicked on the hard tile floor.  The sound was sexy which built up the anticipation for me.

Stepping in front of the mirror, I was in shock.  Before me was a young tall blond woman, perfectly sculpted in every way, in just heels, bra, and panties.  Every man’s wet dream.
I tossed my hair over my shoulder, and its softness against my shoulder turned me on.  I began turning from side to side, engulfed in the enjoyment of what a vision of beauty I was, and I began touching myself.  I had almost forgotten the gift women have of having multiple orgasms was now my gift and needed to experience that gift.

I felt that I wanted something deeper inside of me this time, and I worked my fingers down my thong and felt the wetness.  I lifted my fingers from my thong and up to my mouth and watched myself suck on them through the mirror.  The taste was warm and creamy and I needed more.

I walked to the bedroom and sat on the bed.  I looked down, watching as I slowly crossed my legs, feeling the smoothness of them rubbing together.  I was entranced with my new femininity.  I had a belief that the more seductively a woman could cross her legs, the higher her level of sexuality.  Practicing crossing my legs, I absorbed myself in the feeling of my thighs rubbing together as I slowly took turns crossing each one.  I quickly perfected this act.

Lying on the bed, my hands began to explore my body again.  That feeling of needing something deep inside me crept up again, and I reached into my nightstand and pulled out Meghan’s vibrating dildo. It was a light purple device, thick, and about 6 inches long with an appendage at the end to vibrate the clit while the rest of the dildo was inside.  She never used it and I always thought it was because she was too scared to explore those limits, but I wasn’t.  This body needed this, and I was going to fulfill the need.

Turning it on, I giggled as I felt it start vibrating.  Next, I set it to slowly rotate.  Imagining it was a nice hard cock, I wrapped my luscious lips around it and got it wet.
It was time.  Sliding my thong to the side with one hand, I slowly inserted it into me.  Looking down as I worked it in, it felt foreign, but good.  I slowly worked it in and out until it and my pussy were well acquainted and comfortable. 

Pushing it in and out, I let its rotation find my best spots.  I felt more fulfilled, but wondered what a real cock would be like.  My mind refocused as I caught myself rotating it around too and found my g-spot.  My body shook in shock and pleasure.  I continued to push it in and out of me slightly as the other part massaged my clit.  I became an expert quickly, and began using the other hand to massage my thighs and eventually work up my stomach and fondle my breasts, paying careful attention to my nipples.

My body felt a whole new kind of pleasure.  Just as intense, but different nonetheless.  In reaction to all of the new and wonderful sensations pulsing through my body, I thrashed my head around and felt my long hair brush against my head and face, and I loved its feel.  I loved my new body.  I loved being a woman.

Starting to climax and giving breathy pants, my toes curled in my heels, almost popping them off my feet.  Although I loved how they made me feel sexy, but I wanted to release them to maximize how much skin on skin contact I had, so I craftily got them off my feet while still tending to my pussy with the dildo and my breasts with my other hand.

I rubbed my soft feet against each other and along my shins, and the reveled in the softness of them.  The added sensation was too much I began to cum.  As I came, I felt my pussy tighten around the dildo and could feel the cum seep into my vagina.  My back arched slightly as the pleasure radiated from my body.  I felt numbness and tingling all over at the same time.  Sliding the dildo out of my sopping wet pussy, I turned it off and examined it.  Slowly I lifted it to my mouth and sucked on it, enjoying the taste of my own juices.  Putting it back in the nightstand, I laid on the bed, no longer the picture perfect lingerie model in the mirror, but instead a hot wonderful mess.  I felt complete and happy. 
I waited anxiously for my old self to come home so I could start tempting him and teasing him for sex.  I had picked out an outfit that only a teenager would wear; a pair of jean shorts that were entirely too short and tight for a woman my age, and a yellow tank top which hugged my upper body and allowed my breasts to practically spill out of the top.  I found myself prancing around the house barefoot as I prepared dinner and tended to the kids in anticipation for him to get home.  Thoughts of sex filled my brain, and my pussy was making my thong damp.

His arrival caught me off guard as I was playing with the kids.  His hands locked on my hips,  he came from behind me and pulled my hips into his, and I could feel an erection growing through his dress pants.  Bending over slightly to push my ass into him, I let his hands explore my body; secretly, as not to be noticed by the kids.  Tilting my head back and turning it toward him, he gently brushed back my golden locks of hair and touched the side of my face with his hand.  My body melted as his lips touched mine.  Swaying my hips against his hardening cock, I didn’t think I could wait for him to fuck me.

“Hi”, I said shyly as I turned to face him.

“Hi”, he responded with a grin on his face.  “You look good.”  He slowly looked me up and down.

“Thanks.”  I replied, continuing to play shy; but I could not help but start to show some of my anticipation.
 
Catching onto my body language, and the sluttiness of my outfit, he said, “Nice outfit.”

“Thanks.  Maybe if you’re a good boy, you can get a better look.”  And with those words, I stepped into him, rubbing my right leg and arch of my foot against his leg as I put my arms around his shoulders, steadying myself.

His face lit up.  “And maybe if you’re a good girl, you might enjoy yourself too”.  It was always my way of reminding Meghan that she wasn’t necessarily the one doing the other the favor.  I was a good lover, and we both knew that.

“Maybe” I replied in my most playful voice.  I turned and walked into the kitchen to finish cooking dinner.  As I walked away, I instinctually began swaying my hips more.  I turned my head and smiled coyly at him.  He was enjoying the view and I could see the lust in his eyes.  It felt good to be desired.

Unfortunately, even Meghan’s advances on me in my old body and life could not always dominate over my work.  There were some things that just had to be done, and compromises were needed.   Taking over Meghan’s body and life did not seem to change this fact, despite my strong ploy.

Both disappointed, the old me and the old Meghan would have gone their separate ways for the night.  I would have worked, and maybe masturbated to release the pent up sexual tension I would have had, and she might have lost the urge and went to bed.  But things had changed.  The new me, the new Meghan, were going to break old habits, I just didn’t know how just yet.

After dinner, I let him go into his home office to begin his work while I put the kids to sleep.   Once I had them in bed, I slipped out of my outfit and into a pair of sexy purple panties and one of Meghan’s larger tee shirts.  My bare feet and bare legs were a little cold as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror fixing my hair.  Turning to stand in front of the full length mirror, I inspected myself.  I put my hair in a ponytail, which pulled off the “sexy casual” look I was going for.  My tee shirt was not tight, nor particularly form fitting, but it came about half way down my ass, giving a little glimpse of my panties.  I wanted him to be turned on, but not think I was pursuing him.  My plan was to make sure he was set for the night and I would just have to have another session with my dildo before I went to bed.  Sex with him would just have to wait for another night.  I trotted downstairs and into his office, my mind focused on what I was going to do after checking in on him.
 
With my new body and life, I loved to tease.  Probably because I knew I wasn’t going to be rejected if I wanted sex.  But that wasn’t my goal right now, or least I didn’t think it was.  I peeked through a crack in his door and watched him for a second, his face looking stoic and somewhat defeated.  I knew that feeling and how he felt at that moment.  His desire for his wife, and hers for him, ruined because of a deadline.  And to make matters worse, as he endured long hours of unsatisfying work, she got to relax and enjoy herself. 

Taking a step back, I retreated for a moment.  I was about to do the same thing as the old Meghan did.  I could not let him work while I pleasured myself.  It was that very thing that set me over the edge before the white light came.  What if he found out I had done that and it set him over the edge?  What if the white light came for him and I lost control of this body and life I loved so much?

The solution was simple.  I had already been working harder than the old Meghan at making my old self happier in every other facet of our relationship.  In order for me to keep this life and all its wonderful rewards, I needed to be a little less selfish.  I needed to give him incentives for working hard.  I never got any when I was him, other than some half-hearted “I appreciate you” every once in a while.  To be a better Meghan than the old one meant being grateful, and more importantly, showing it.  I knew what to do.

I sat up on his edge of his desk, facing him and was sitting a good foot higher than him; my hips and thighs right in front of his line of sight.  I slowly crossed my legs, my baggy tee shirt not long enough to cover them.  I watched as he stared at my legs, starting at my thighs and all the way down to my pretty bare feet.

Giving him a playful look, I took out my hair tie and let my hair down.  Tossing my hair over my shoulder, I said, “So here’s the deal.”  I began to smile, but tried to contain it.  “I know you need to work, but when you’re done I am going to fuck you.”

His facial expression moved from lust, to surprise, and back to lust.  All he could muster was a little smile and the words “OK.”

I continued.  “So I’m going to go to sleep.  But, when you’re all done, I want you to wake me and I am going to show you how much I appreciate you.  I want you to explore my body like you never have before.” 

He was shocked to hear his wife speak so plainly to him.  I continued,” You know I take such good care of myself so you can enjoy my body as much as I do, don’t you?  You deserve the best, and I want to do my best to deliver that because of everything you do for me.  Every opportunity, every sacrifice, everything.”

And with that his little smile broke grew larger and I smiled back. I had chosen my words carefully and it came across perfectly.  I was obviously serious about the situation, but wording it so he knew I wanted to do that for him as a “reward” made him feel wanted and desired and gave him something to look forward to.  And it was a definite thing.  I didn’t tell him I wanted him to fuck me.  That would seem like another task on his list to accomplish before he went to bed.   All of this was completely different that how things went when I was my old self.

Trying to be playful, he said. “OK, I can try to do that for you, but what if it’s late?”

“I don’t care.  But if you don’t feel like it, that’s OK.  I will fuck you tomorrow night.”  And with that, I slowly re-crossed my legs.

I had successfully changed that sad, stoic person into a recharged man on a mission.  His energy level picked up, and with a look of determination in his eyes he said, “Sounds like a plan”.

And with that, I flipped my hair over one shoulder and leaned down for a kiss.  With his hand rubbing against my smooth thigh he leaned in and kissed me gently at first, and then more passionate.  I found myself lost in the moment, just like the other day before we were interrupted, my body just reacting to the wonderful feelings.  His tongue slipped into my mouth, and mine met his, circling around each other like a cyclone. He rolled his chair to be sitting directly in front of me and took both hands and began to feel my soft skin on my outer and thighs and tops of my thighs.

I began to uncross my legs so his hands to explore them further and my foot brushed over his crotch, and I could feel his erection through his gym shorts and I began massaging his cock over his shorts with my feet.

Moving his hands quickly from my thighs to my feet, he encouraged me to do more, and gently caressed the tops of them.   I stopped kissing him for a second and leaned back for a minute, waiting for his nonverbal queue to keep going.  In a breathy quiet voice and a devilish grin I said, “Let’s get some of this tension out of you before you work so you can focus on your work, OK?”

His face lit up, and he nodded his head in agreement, excited with the notion I was going to give him a foot job.

I had never gotten one when I was in my old body, but really wanted one.  The old Meghan didn’t think it was bad or strange, but didn’t feel comfortable doing it nonetheless; probably because she wasn’t sure what to do.  Having been a man and having that desire, I felt like I could deliver.  And besides, it would allow him to get that sexual tension out of his system so he could get his work done and come to bed to pleasure me.  And I knew him.  If he didn’t release that sexual tension until he fucked me, my experience would be shorter lived than I would like, and I wanted him to fuck me long and hard that night.

With confirmation and agreement between both parties, my old self adjusted himself, letting his hard cock stick out of one of the legs of his shorts.  With one foot, I began working my flexible toes over the tip of his cock, occasionally sliding the arch of my foot along his shaft.  The other foot was raised to my old self’s mouth, and he slowly began to kiss my foot, gauging my sensitivity and how ticklish it was, as to not ruin the moment.  The feeling was ticklish at first, but as he became more confident in the act, I found more pleasure out of it that what I would have imagined.  Before long, I guided my toes into his mouth and let him lick on and in between them and suck on them; all the while my other foot gently caressing his cock.

I loved Meghan’s feet, and loved them from her point of view.  They were soft, tanned, and dainty.  My slender toes cascaded down the front of them, and I had carefully kept them pedicured and my toes were still painted a light shade of pink.  I alternated watching them, as one foot was playing with a hard cock and the other one was being pampered by my old self’s tongue and touch.  I began cupping my breasts over my shirt and increasing my own pleasure.

Working my old self into frenzy, he guided my foot from his mouth down to his cock, signaling me to begin my work.  I gently enclosed his cock between the arches of my feet and began jerking him off.  Not wanting to make eye contact (probably because he was embarrassed in the new situation), he leaned back and let me work on his cock.   My soft feet felt good on the soft skin of his hard shaft, and I took turns using my arches and toes to stroke his cock.  I even started to stroke his balls with the tops of my toes. 

Noticing my own excitement in the situation, my old self began watching me masturbate, and my feet still locked around his cock, working feverishly for it to explode.  His hands began massaging my feet and calves as I increased the pace, seeing him getting closer to climax.

My old self didn’t know what to do.  He was getting ready to cum when he asked, “What do you want me to do?” knowing full well I knew he was getting ready to cum.

Getting ready to cum myself, I could feel his hips stiffen under my feet and before I knew it, a long pleasure filled grunt came from my old self; warm cum spurting onto the top of my pretty feet.

My hand had been rubbing my clit with reckless abandon the whole time, and the feeling of his cum on my feet set me over the edge.  The cum on them was a reflection of the desire he had for me and my body.  I loved to be desired.  And with that thought, I habitually bit my lower lip and shortly after I came myself, and a long panting moan escaping from my mouth.

I continued to massage his cock with my feet, slowly, allowing all of his cum to emerge, and watched as it ran over my pretty female feet.  I felt satisfied.  My body was glowing with pleasure.  Not only because I came, but because I felt good making my old self feel good.  Although not what I planned before I entered his office, the whole experience was rewarding more than I thought.  I had not expected to fulfill one of my/his fantasies right then, but was glad I did.

Knowing I still wanted to be fucked later, I picked up my shirt and said, “OK, that ought to get you through the next few hours, but I still expect you to wake me up tonight.”
Another smile came across his face.  “Maybe if you’re a good girl.  We’ll see” he replied.
 
He thought he was the one in control, and I know it made him feel good to think that.  But I knew I was the one.  I could get him to do anything I wanted.  I was him.  But not anymore.

With only my panties on, I hopped down from his desk and began to walk away, swaying my hips as I departed.  Turning in the doorway before I exited, I caught him staring at me with lust once again. 

“Good night.” I said, with a little smile on my face.

Heading upstairs, I cleaned off my feet more in the bathroom.  I couldn’t believe I had done that, but what was harder to believe was how much I enjoyed it.  I liked being desired, it turned me on.  I liked that my new form was so incredibly sexy that someone would cum just focusing on my feet.  But what I liked most was that I had done something for my old self in appreciation that I never got when I was him.  I like doing that for him.  He/I worked hard and deserved it.

Patting my feet dry, I cleaned up the rest of myself in preparation of tonight’s activity.  My body was longing to be touched again and I could not shake the need to feel a real cock inside me instead of my dildo.  It was a void that could only be filled by the real thing.

Feeling tired, I decided I would lay in bed for a bit before I prepared myself for him.  I gently brushed my hair, once again admiring my long golden blond locks of hair cascading down my shoulders.  Throwing a tee shirt on, I crawled into bed and closed my eyes.  “I’ll just close them for a few minutes,” I thought to myself.  But I was more tired than I thought, and I quickly feel to sleep.

During my unintentional nap, my sex drive must have still been in high gear as I dreamed.  Naked, I was riding on top of a man whose face I could not totally see.  I felt him inside of me, and my hands moved off of his chest as I sat up straight on top of him so my hands could begin exploring my body.  I loved my sexy new body, and the dream seemed as real as it could be.

Looking straight ahead, I could see my reflection in a mirror above the headboard of the bed, and my vanity became more intense.  I locked my eyes on the eyes in the reflection, admiring my pretty face and long hair and full breasts bouncing ever so slightly to the slow methodical rocking motion I was executing on the faceless man.

I could feel my partner’s intensity pick up, and he began bucking his hips upward, harder and harder, trying to plunge his entire manhood into my pussy.  Panting and soft moans escaped my lips, and I could feel myself getting ready for an orgasm.  Instinctually closing my eyes and biting my lower lip, just like my wife who occupied this body before me, I prepared for the intense pleasure about to happen.

In the midst of this much anticipated event, I opened my eyes and lustfully smiled at myself in the mirror.  The face in the mirror went from happy to violently upset.

Scared to death, I yelled, but did not recognize my voice I had been getting so comfortable using the past few weeks.  It was my old male voice.

Looking down, the handsome man I had been so happily riding on top of was gone.  So was my new body.  In exchange was my old male body in all of its flabby and pale glory.
 
Terrified, I jumped out of the bed and ran into the unfamiliar bathroom, not knowing where the man was, or if he would return.  Looking into the mirror, I still saw the stunning beauty that was Meghan, but when I looked down, I saw my old self.  Confused, I splashed water on my face.
 
I looked back into the mirror, and my reflection looked angry again, and it began to speak to me again.

“You asshole, what did you do to me!  You stole my body!  You stole my life!  I want it back!”

The reflection was obviously Meghan.  Feelings of shame, regret, and disappointment washed over me.

“I’m sorry Meghan,” I said, pleading for forgiveness.  “I am so sorry.”  I paused not knowing what to say and began to cry.

“You were never good enough for me, and you’re sure as hell not good enough to be me” Meghan said.

At first, her words cut me deep.  I had never felt that I was worthy of marrying her, so why would I be good enough to be her?  My crying turned into sobbing.  The vacation was over, and so was my marriage.

“You’re pathetic,” Meghan said disdainfully.
 
That was it.  I had enough; enough of feeling sorry for myself, enough of her controlling me, and enough of her taking advantage of me.  My sorrow stopped and was replaced by anger.

“No.  You’re the pathetic one,” I responded with conviction.  “I gave everything for you and the family, and all you ever did was take and take and take.  You sat back and enjoyed yourself while I sacrificed and was miserable, and you knew it.  I deserved the gift I got, not you.  I don’t want to go back!  I don’t want to go back!  I don’t want to go back!”  My words were sharp as I yelled at my wife in the mirror.

The reflection in the mirror looked back at me in shock while my words sank in.  She looked down and sadness came across her.   Looking up, she said, “You’re right.  I’m sorry, you deserve this, not me.”

Her reflection disappeared, and I saw my old male face and body again in the mirror.  I felt sick to my stomach.  Not only was I back in my old body, but I lost my wife.  I felt lost, confused, and sad.

Just as the tears became uncontrollable, an intense pain came over me, focusing on my abdomen.  I could feel my insides twisting and turning.  The pain was unbearable.  I thought I would pass out from the pain, and fear ran through me.  What was happening?  Was I going to die here all alone?

When my fear was at its peak, the pain settled down.  I looked in the mirror.  My face looked different, more feminine.  My nose had gotten smaller, and my adam’s apple was gone.  My jaw was smaller, and the features in my face were more delicate.

I noticed my hands were smaller, and my fingers slimmer.  “What’s happening?” I thought to myself.  The pain welled up again, this centering in my hips, and radiated throughout my upper body as well as down through my legs and I heard dozens of crackling sounds all at once.  I was changing.
 
My hips expanded and my ass became firm and round.  I looked down at my penis, and it was almost gone.  Taking my delicate hand, I tried to touch what was left, but it disappeared up into me, leaving my genital area flat and a new pussy formed.

My focus now drew to my legs.  I grew about 2 inches taller, and my legs became slender and toned.  It was then I noticed my skin changing.  All blemishes were gone, and my pale skin was replaced by perfect skin; tan, smooth, and soft. 

My feet began to ache as I heard cracking noises come from them.  The pain was too much to bear, and I quickly sat on the bathroom floor.  Before my eyes I saw them get smaller, first by length, and then by width.  The skin on my feet became soft and smooth like the rest of my skin.  My toes became slim and cascaded down the front of my feet in descending order.  With one last crack, perfect arches developed.  I inspected the changes that had been done.  I knew those feet too well.  Only Meghan had feet so perfect.  I must be changing in to her.

The pain persisted, but was more manageable.  I got to my feet and found a mirror.  With a swift wave of pain picking up around my midsection, I saw my waist shrink and my stomach flatten.  My face began to tingle, and I ran my hands over my face.  I felt my nails were long once again as they gently scraped my face.  My hands covered my eyes for a second, and when I moved them, my eyes refocused on my reflection in the mirror and I saw her face once again.  Meghan’s beautiful face.  The tingling moved to my scalp, and long golden locks of hair spurted out from my head and fell gracefully onto my shoulders.  I ran my hands through my hair.  I had missed it, even for that short time, and I realized my fear of what was going on had now turned into relief.  I was becoming Meghan once again, and I loved it.

Turning to the side, I inspected the work done so far.  Admiring my flat stomach and tight waist, I ran a hand over my hips, then back to my ass, feeling its firm roundness.  Both hands then began feeling my smooth toned thighs. 

Just then, the pain erupted again.  It was manageable, but very uncomfortable.  Still viewing my reflection from the side in the mirror, I saw my flabby chest change as flesh kept accumulating under my nipples until two full soft perky breasts sat comfortably on my chest.  I turned to face the mirror and cupped my breasts with my nice feminine hands.  They felt amazing.

Taking a step back from the mirror, I examined my new sex.  Seeing that sexy space between my thighs and pussy was a relief to see, and looked down and watched as I worked a hand down to my pussy and began to check its legitimacy.  A chill of pleasure ran through me as my hand glided down to my clit and I tilted my head back in reaction to the pleasure, feeling my long hair flow over my shoulders and down my back.  The pain was gone.  The change was complete.

I looked in the mirror and smiled.  I was happy to have her body back.

Just then, I saw her reflection reappear in the mirror, but instead of it replacing mine, it was like she was standing next to me.  I looked to my right and left, but there was no one there.  I looked back at the mirror and there she was.

“My time is up and I’m moving on.  Don’t worry about me.  I am going to a better place” She said.  “I’m sorry for all that I put you though.  I really am.”

“Take this gift and make the most of it,” Meghan said.

“I don’t know if this if what I really wanted,” I replied as I began to cry.
 
Stilling looking at each other through the mirror, she put her hand on my shoulder to comfort me.

“This is what you really want, and I want you to have it.  Take my life and make the most of it.  Don’t waste it like I did.  Please, I want you to.”

Her words gave me the comfort and approval I was longing for.

I will.”  I responded gratefully.  “I love you.”  A tear ran down my new pretty face.

“I will see you again someday,” she said. “I love you too.”

And with that, her reflection faded, and I began to cry.   I missed her...

--------------------------------------------------------

“Wake up Meghan!” yelled a voice. 

Coming to, I realized it was my old self was shaking me trying to wake me up.

“Where are we?” I asked.  Not knowing what he knew or didn’t know. 

“In our bedroom.  Are you OK? “

Taking a second to compose myself, I felt my pillow was wet and I was sweating uncontrollably.
 
“I don’t know,” I responded.  “What happened?”

“I came up from working and you were having a nightmare.  You were yelling “I don’t want to go back.”  And I couldn’t wake you up, even when I was shaking you.  You began to sweat a lot, and then you finally woke up”.

He sat there and held me in his arms, comforting me.  It felt good.  It felt right.  After I was able to compose myself, I began replaying the dream in my head.  Was it really a dream?

“So what don’t you want to go back to?” my old self asked once I had settled down.

Taking a second to respond, I realized Meghan wanted me to have this gift now, and it was all OK.  I felt comforted even more about things.

“I don’t want to go back to be the old Meghan.” I said.

He wiped my cheek with his finger, taking away the rest of the tears on my face and gently kissed me on it.

“I don’t know what’s happened to you, but the last few weeks have been great.  I feel like a weight is off my shoulders and haven’t felt this happy in a long time.”  His words implied he agreed.

I realized at that time that my plan was going perfectly because he was happier than I was when I was him.  I nuzzled into him and kissed him on the neck and we both fell asleep with me in his arms.   

We woke up early the next morning with the sunrise peeking through the blinds.  We laid there, quiet.  I had been given this gift, and spent so much time enjoying it; I had forgotten that it could be taken away.  With all the excitement of the new things I was experiencing living her life in her body, I had forgotten what I had done to my wife and forgotten about her, but my dream the previous night made me realize what I had done to her.  I felt guilty, but at the same time, I didn’t force this to happen.  I wanted it to, and I accepted how horrible I was that I would send her to that kind of fate, but never thought it would come true.  Fantasy had become reality, but I could not believe it was on my sheer will alone.

 I don’t know where she was now, but was glad to know she was happy.   More importantly though was that she wanted me to take this gift and make the most of it. I felt redeemed from that guilt.

Once again we were interrupted our children and that serenity was replaced by the morning routine.  I was distracted as I got the kids out the door because my mind could not stop thinking about last night.

“Hey, are you OK?” asked my old self as he was getting ready to leave for work himself.

“Yeah.” I responded.

“I meant what I said last night” he continued.  “I don’t know what kind of nightmare you had, but I love the changes you’ve made.  I haven’t been this happy in a very long time, but couldn’t figure out why.  It’s like you read my mind and figured it out for me.  I need to thank you for that.”

His words make me feel good; great, even.  I smiled back at him.  He had no idea how well I knew him, and I was glad I was preventing a new cycle possibly from occurring again.  Nothing said that he couldn’t get jealous of me and force me out just like I did to Meghan, right?

“You deserve everything I can give you baby” I responded back.  The words were flirtatious but sincere and I was surprised her pet name for me came out so naturally.  I felt at peace and loved that not only had I assumed her life, I was living it better than her.

“I do?” he flirted back and began to step toward me.

“Hmm Hmm”, is all I could get out before he leaned in put his hand on the side of my face, and kissed me.  My body melted, and I raised a leg up slightly and wrapped it around one of his, allowing him to help me maintain my balance while I rubbed myself against him.

Our intimacy was broken by the ringing of his cell phone.

“Hey.  What?  OK, I’ll be right over” he said into the phone.

“I’ve got to go see a customer.  Duty calls” he said to me.  His typically defeated tone was replaced by an energetic upbeat one instead.

“The only duty you should have right now is to march upstairs and take your clothes off” I said in a playful authoritarian voice.

“I wish I could, but I better go” he responded back.

“Then we’ll have to wait until tonight” I said back, continuing to flirt.

“Definitely, but don’t forget you are going out with your friends tonight”, my old self responded back.

“I don’t want to tonight.  I just want to be with you.” I responded in a playful whiny tone.

I had forgotten all about that.  I had not been social with Meghan’s friends since I took her life over and had scheduled time to be with them.  I really didn’t want to do that tonight, but knew I had to keep up appearances with them.  I was saved by his comment.

“How about you go out with them and we’ll have time after?” he said, knowing full well I knew he was just talking about sex when I returned from my night out.

Her acceptance of the situation gave me the redemption I was looking for and I felt freer than ever.  And with that, my perspective changed.  Instead of seeing my old self as “my old self” I really started to view him as my husband, and I was quickly growing to love him.  I was the new Meghan, and my old life was behind me.  This realization overcame me, and I was overcome with excitement.  And with that excitement, I became extremely aroused over the whole situation.

I truly wanted him to fuck me, but I wanted the situation to be right, I agreed with him that it would wait until tonight.  I could prepare myself, and go out with my friends, letting him wait in anticipation. I walked with him out the door but not after taking another minute for another passionate kiss.  We said goodbye.

The day flew by with some ordinary chores: shopping, cleaning, etc.  But as the afternoon drew closer to night, anticipation crept up and I was eager for tonight’s activities.  I was looking forward to spending time with Meghan’s friends.  I actually liked them and enjoyed talking to them, and I knew that I wanted to keep them in my new life too.  But I was really excited was for when I came home.

I quickly got dinner ready and prepared some things for my old self to have an easy night with the kids.  When things were all set, I put the kids in front of the TV so I could get ready.  It would be another hour before my old self was home, and I was leaving as soon as he came back.

With the kids distracted, I began my new ritual of getting ready.  I wanted to look extra special for my night out.  Not only did I want to impress my friends, but I wanted to leave my old self turned on and waiting for my return.

With clean sweet smelling skin, meticulously shaven legs and pubic hair, and clean silky hair, I stepped out of the shower.  I applied new lotion I had bought, and the smell matched my body wash and left my skin with a healthy glow.  After drying my hair and applying curlers, I stepped into the closet to pick out my clothes for the evening.
I picked out a pair of skinny jeans and a very sexy brown halter top. My underwear consisted of a sexy white lace thong and sexy smooth white strapless bra.   The strapless bra helped keep my breasts in place with the halter top, which was tight and came up high on my chest and tied around my neck with two strings.  Although it didn’t allow me to show cleavage, the tightness of it showed off my full breasts.  Being a halter top, it showed off my shoulders and was very low cut in the back which showed off my back.  The jeans were obviously tight, and I liked how they let my feet show.  But it was the sexy brown wedge sandals I picked out that pulled the whole outfit together.

Sliding my small delicate feet into the heels, I confirmed my choice of shoe was excellent.  They were sandals, so they slid right on and showed my entire foot, and were a good four inches high  so they looked very sexy.  The wedge heel was very trendy was well.  My toes lined up perfectly with the edge of the heel, unlike many other women’s feet I noticed which tended to hang over.  The brown heels looked great as I stood in front of the full length mirror.
 
Finishing my hair, I decided to keep it down, and enjoyed how it felt against my exposed shoulders and back.  I carefully applied my makeup and topped it all off with sexy pink lip gloss.

Taking another look in the mirror, I looked like a model, a model eight to ten years younger at that.  I was sexy, but was covering enough skin to not look like I was trying to be sexy, or slutty.  God I looked hot.  Continuing to check myself out in the mirror, I began getting turned on, and wondering how the night would go when I returned.  The wonder escalated into daydreaming, and I began to fondle myself in front of the mirror. 

I watched myself as I began rubbing one hand over the crotch of my jeans while the other one began caressing my flat stomach over my soft, stretchy shirt, taking time to cup my breasts.  I was imagining my hands were actually my old self’s hands exploring my body, and I began to look up, letting my long silky hair tickle the soft skin of my back.  I quickly moved my head back so I could view myself in the mirror again and I saw as my hair tossed from my back over one shoulder, tickling it in the most sensual way.  I was lost in the moment.    

I suddenly noticed my old self in the mirror.  He was behind me and checking me out, but didn’t seem to notice exactly how much I was pleasuring myself.

“I guess you like what you see as much as I do” he said as I turned around, a little embarrassed.

“You look fucking amazing” he said.

“FUCKING amazing?” I replied, emphasizing the word “fuck” to him, letting him know my mind was still set on him fucking me that night.

I slowly walked toward him.  In my heels, I was several inches taller than him.  I looked down at him and he began locking his hands around my waist, pulling me in some more.  I began kissing him, letting his hands explore my body before they eventually locked on my ass.

Playfully I pulled away from him.  “So do I look OK?” I asked, like I didn’t already know the answer.

He nodded in agreement.

“Do you like my shoes?” I asked, putting my dainty feet close together for him to get a great view of them.  I then lifted one foot off the ground a little and letting him examine how they looked from the side with my nice arch of my foot in his line of sight.  I knew his cock was getting hard.

He nodded in agreement again, trying not to reveal his foot fetish too much.  I know he wanted to fuck me right there, and my body began to tingle in excitement.

Taking a step toward him, I let him feel my body.  I knew I had to go, but was tempted to give in to his advances.

“So you’re going to be ready for me when I get back, right?” I asked him.

His response was playful and just then the doorbell rang.  It was my ride.  Making sure he had everything he needed, and once again being interrupted in a moment of intimacy, I headed out the door for the night.

My night out with Meghan’s friends was enjoyable.  We met at a restaurant for appetizers and drinks, but most for the drinks.  As we sat there catching up, I couldn’t believe how easy it was for me to fit in with them and give no indication that I was now Meghan.  My mind wandered in and out of the conversation, in eager anticipation for what was to happen when I got home.

As my daydreams of having full-fledged sex as Meghan for the first time made my heart race, so did the sight of another one of Meghan’s friends, Michelle.  Meghan was the most attractive one out of the group, but a very close second, I had always thought, was Michelle.  Her beauty was different than mine.  She had the build of a model, tall and lean, with a few less curves than myself, but very attractive.  Her face was gorgeous with a sexy neckline that ran up to high cheek bones.  She had a sexy mouth, wide, with a bright smile. She had shown up wearing a tight black miniskirt that hugged her small, but perky, butt and a casual yellow top that was form fitting that hugged her breasts.  I had always guessed they were probably a full B cup and after seeing her in that top, I was probably correct. 

But it was her black knee high leather boots that really caught my attention, as well as every guy in the restaurant.  She was about the same height as me without them, but with them on, her long legs became even longer with the four inch stiletto heels the boots and she hovered over me in all of her leggy glory.  Couple that with her long and straight dirty blond hair put up in a ponytail, she looked like a cross between a high-end escort and a secretary from a porno film.

“So, Meghan, how about we go to yoga class together Monday morning?” asked Michelle.

God, I would love to see her long legs and graceful body do yoga, I thought to myself. 

“Sounds good, how about the 10:00 class?”  I replied, trying to hold back my excitement.

“Great!” she replied, making sure I noticed her response.  She was smiling, but had a little devilish grin to her too.  It made me wonder if there was chemistry there, but I quickly shook it off as me wishing that were true.

“So, Meghan, how are things going since we got together last?” said another friend through the noise of the restaurant.  “You seemed pretty upset last time.  Is your husband happier?

Trying not expose the truth, I said, “Yeah, he’s much happier now.  I think he got what he wanted.”  Michelle’s devilish grin must have been contagious because I was now dawning that same grin.

“Well, how are you doing with everything?” said another friend to me.

“What do you mean?” I asked, unsure of what she was talking about specifically.

Michelle interrupted, “Last time you said you felt bad he sacrificed a lot and that you didn’t know why you couldn’t do the same.”
 
There it was again.  Meghan’s trainer, and now Michelle, were saying this same thing.  It made me think for a minute.  So she knew I wasn’t happy; now that couldn’t have been have been hard to figure out.  But what was new to me was that not only did she not know what to change to make me happy, she didn’t care enough to try.  It left me with more questions. Did she not really love me much after all?  Did she just enjoy the spoiling she got from me and just take advantage of me?  Did that justify the gift I was given?  If I somehow "willed" this to happen, was it easier because she felt bad about things? 

Becoming angry, I tried to hide it with another secretly evil remark, “I guess things worked out for the best.  He got what he wanted and I’m the new and improved Meghan.” 
I forced a smile and they bought my fake sincerity.

“Well the new and improved Meghan looks gorgeous.  I love your hair and the outfit.  Those shoes are too cute!” Michelle replied.
 
Her deep brown eyes looked at me and her lip-glossed lips smiled bright.  She was turning me on; that was definitely clear
. 
With her sitting beside me, I leaned back and put my hand on her shoulder and cheerfully said, “Thanks!”

As my hand retreated, it brushed down her back and around her waist.  She felt so good.  In reaction to my touch, she slowly re-crossed her legs, her long legs slowly rubbing together.  She passed one of my tests.  She looked so sexy crossing her legs, she was probably very sexual in bed.
 
I began to have a fantasy that I was in my old body and I was fucking her; mounted on top of her with her long slender legs locked around me as I was pumping in to her.  Thoughts quickly changed to me in my new body, and I imagined me in the same position, but our clits rubbing against each other while our soft skin rubbed against each other.  God, I bet that would be fun, I thought to myself as the girls’ conversation regained my attention.  My whole body tingled I was so turned on, unlike in my old body when my excitement would be centered around my erection.

The rest of the night was fun, but uneventful.  The more I thought about it, did it really matter what the old Meghan thought or felt?  In just 24 hours I went from feeling terrible, to being redeemed, to being angry with her.  And the truth of the matter was that it didn't matter.  Not at all.  In the end, she accepted the situation and felt bad for what she did, and left me with this gift.  I had to let it go.  The new Meghan couldn't dwell on the old anymore.

My mind wandered back to the fun new experience ahead of me tonight.  I became nervous and thought it would be weird being so much more intimate with my old self, but after a few glasses of wine, I let it go, and was not only ready, I was longing for it.

Had I not been fantasizing about sex the whole time, I would have had more fun with Meghan’s girlfriends.  Finally, I found my opportunity to convince my ride to leave and take me home, but not before a I took a quick shot of alcohol for the ride home.

As we drove, I felt fortunate that my friend wasn’t terribly talkative.  The closer we got to my home, the faster my heart raced.  My body felt alive; more sensitive than usual, and I looked down at myself and loved what I saw and could not wait for the experience ahead.

I exchanged texts with my old self as I got closer.. 

“Almost home… u asleep?”

“of course not, can’t stop thinking about u”

“ u better be ready.  ;)   ”

“No, u better be ready”

As my friend pulled into the driveway, I quickly said goodbye and practically leaped out of the car.  Letting her pull away, I waved goodbye to her in the driveway.  I could look up and see the bedroom light on, but dim.

“Well, here we go” I said to myself, a little anxious and very excited.

As I stepped inside, the house was quiet and most of the lights were out.  I slipped out of my heels and felt my warm feet on the cool floor and was reminded that tonight was the night I would wear my special heels.  I looked down at my pretty bare feet and wondered in anticipation of what they would look like with them on.

I briskly walked into the downstairs bathroom and looked myself over.  I looked stunning, even though it had been hours since I applied my makeup and did my hair.  I took a brush and brushed my long golden hair one more time.  I wanted to look my best for my old self.

I quietly walked upstairs, as to not wake the kids up, and slowly opened the bedroom door.  My old self had some candles lit and was lying in bed.  I walked up to him, swaying my hips seductively as I approached him.

“Did you have fun?” he asked

“Yeah, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.  How was your night?” I responded.

“Good.  Couldn’t stop thinking about how hot you look in your sexy outfit though” he said.
 
With that, he stood up and placed his hands on my hips.  My body began to melt as his hands began to explore my waist and thighs.  Working his hands behind me, he grabbed my ass, and I stood on my tip-toes as his firm grip was practically lifting me off the ground.

I leaned into him and gave him soft wet kisses.

“You haven’t seen sexy yet.” I whispered into his ear, his hands continuing to explore my body.

I reluctantly broke free from his grip and I could see the lust in his eyes.  He was eager to fuck me, but I could tell even he wanted to wait so I could go and dress up for him.

As I walked into the bathroom to prepare myself, I lifted up my hair with one hand and untied my halter top from around my neck with the other, exposing most of my back to him since my shirt was so low cut in the back.  As I closed the door, I gave him a devilish grin.  It was time to prepare.

I lifted my halter top over my head, and quickly took off my bra.  It felt good to have my breasts exposed for a bit.  I stood in front of my now favorite full length mirror and admired my beauty.  I watched in the mirror as I slid down my jeans and thong and stood in front of it naked. 

At first, I could not believe how lucky I was.  But I realized that this was not luck.  I had earned to be in this body and have this life.  I turned to the side to inspect myself.  God I was hot, and I deserved it.

Not wanting to waste time, I turned toward my sink and grabbed some items from the cabinet underneath.  I applied some new lotion, but not much.  I wanted to refresh my skin, but wanted it to dry quickly so my skin would be soft and smooth.  I could not wait for it to rub my skin against his.

Next, I applied some more perfume.  The scent invigorated me even more, and the scent left me feeling completely feminine and sexy.

Lastly, I applied a new coat of lip gloss.  As I carefully applied it, thoughts of it being wrapped around my old cock filled my mind.

With makeup still in place and fresh lip gloss and smelling sweet and sexy, I looked into the mirror.  I was drop dead gorgeous.  Now for my outfit.

I walked into the closet like I was on a mission.  I knew exactly what to wear; the outfit from my fantasy the night I became Meghan.  I quickly found my strappy black five inch heels and placed them in front of me but didn’t put them on.  They would be my final touch.  I tore through my lingerie and found the dark pink lycra chemise and matching thong.  My heart raced in excitement.  I could not wait to put it on.  Sliding it over my head, its spaghetti straps fell on my shoulders, the mesh fabric in the back stretched, and pulled the shiny silky lycra around my sensual body.  It looked a little like a corset, and felt like it was designed specifically for my well-kept feminine body.   It stopped half way down my hips, allowing half of my ass and my pussy to show.  The underwire bra contained my breasts enough that they didn’t spill out of them, but still put them on display very nicely.  The whole top complemented every curve on my new sexy body.   Taking a moment to enjoy it, I ran my delicate hands over the material, feeling how its silkiness felt against my hand any my body.  A hand ran across my flat stomach and then reached behind me to feel the mesh against my skin; while the other ran up my to my chest, cupping one of my breasts.  Both hands met behind me, grabbing my firm ass.  The feeling of ecstasy made my arch my back and I felt me long golden hair tickle my back. 

Next I needed to put on the matching thong.  It was the same shade of pink and made of lycra; and as my pretty feet slipped into the openings, I could feel it stretch around me as it softly glided up my smooth legs and into its final position.  Taking a quick second to adjust it around my hips, I loved how it felt as it rode up my ass.

Finally, I was ready for my shoes; those incredibly sexy shoes.  I had teased myself and not worn them yet since I became Meghan, and now was the time.  At the front of the shoes were three slim straps the knotted in the middle.  Guiding my pretty toes past that section, they lined up perfectly with the end of the shoe.    Next, I wrapped the straps at the top around my petite ankle and fastened the buckle.  My soft soles conformed to the hard sole of the high heel, and the five inch heel accentuated my already high arch.  I quickly repeated the process for my other foot.

Standing in the closet, unable to see myself yet, I adjusted to my new height and balanced my weight.  The heels felt perfect for me, and looking down at them, and seeing my cute toes with polish that matched the dark pink lingerie, I loved my new point of view.  My soft, tanned, and dainty feet being put on display by these sexy high heels was an image I had longed for.

I walked around the closet, getting used to the new heels.  I adapted quickly, like the heels were made just for me, and began to strut around with grace and femininity.  I was ready to see myself.

I stepped out of the closet and in front of the full length mirror in the bathroom.  I was stunning; my sexy black five inch strappy stiletto sandals accenting my long tan legs.  And as I gazed up from my cute toes and up my legs, I admired my toned thighs and curvy hips; and how my lingerie hugged snugly around my flat stomach and tight waist.  And as I continued looking up, my breasts were cupped firmly by my lingerie, just overflowing a bit from the built in underwire bra.  My long wavy golden blonde hair fell over my slender shoulders and framed the prettiest face you could imagine.  I stood there in awe of myself.  Seeing myself in her body wearing this outfit was a secret fantasy of mine, and it was now true.

As I continued to admire myself in the mirror, I watched as I took my hand and slowly slid it inside my thong and began rubbing my clit.  Bolts of electricity ran through my body and as I continued to look at myself in the mirror, I got more and more turned on.  I needed my old self to fuck me.

Turning toward the door leading into the bedroom, I slowly walked toward it, awaiting my destiny. 

“Click... Click.... Click....” went my heels as I walked across the tile floor, stopping at the door.

“I am Meghan....  I am Meghan.....  I AM MEGHAN...” I whispered to myself letting the anticipation build even more.  I was reveling in the gift I was given.  The words energized me because it made me appreciate my new life I was given.  The gift of being her was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I was better at living her life than she was, and I was about to prove it once again.

A devilish grin came across my face as I slowly opened the door and entered the candle-lit bedroom.  

Time for the new Meghan to have some fun.

Stepping into the dimly lit room, my old self sat on the edge of the bed, about 15 feet away from me, waiting in anticipation.  I stood there on display, letting him lustfully examine my whole body from afar.  Seeing him getting even more turned on aroused me more than I have ever been. I could feel my pussy getting damp, just begging for the attention it needed.

Looking down at myself, I shyfully tucked some hair behind my ear while my other hand rubbed along my hip and thigh.

“Yes.  You look amazing Meghan.  Come here.”

His words caused a surge of pleasure to run through my body.  I had always wanted this body and for someone to tell me how beautiful I was.  But even more, I wanted to be desired; and as he stood up from the bed, his rock hard cock was a reflection of how much he wanted me.

I slowly walked toward him in the sexiest way, swaying my hips seductively as I walked toward him; my sexy heels gracefully landing on the floor as each step brought me closer to him.

Once just a few feet away from him, I tossed my long wavy hair to one side and over my shoulder, getting ready to embrace him with a kiss.  One of my hands began stroking my own thigh while the other one began to reach toward him to guide me closer to him.

I drew into him and his hands immediately locked on my waist, feeling the silky fabric of my lingerie.  His lips met mine with soft wet kisses and quickly the passion increased as his tongue entered my mouth.

As one hand slid up to the side of my neck and face, his other hand locked onto my ass, and he drew me in tighter and our tongues encircled each other with passion unequaled to any level I had experienced before.

Drawing one hand down to his crotch, I began stroking his cock through his boxers.  My other hand slid around the side of him and stayed firmly on his back to steady myself.

His mouth left mine and his lips began giving my neck and shoulder soft, light kisses.  I could see him as he methodically explored each inch of my neck and shoulders and my pussy was tingling from all of the sexual touches my new body was experiencing. 

His lips explored further down to the top of my breasts, just barely being contained by the underwire bra in the lingerie, and his kisses turned into short licks.  As his mouth worked toward my cleavage I found my body instinctually squeezing my arms together to create even more cleavage.  My fingers ran through his short thick hair as he pleasured my breasts with his hands and mouth.

Unable to contain myself, I pushed him away a little so I could get my hand around his cock.  With one hand I pulled his boxers away from his waist while the other hand explored the opening to find his cock.  He leaned to the side a little as my soft delicate hand jerked his cock methodically, allowing him to take his hand and massage my pussy through my sexy pink thong.

With one hand on his throbbing cock massaging and jerking it, small moans escaped my mouth as I began to panting slightly in reaction to all the sexual stimulation.  His mouth met mine once again, and our tongues encircled for another round as we stood there stroking each other.

With a swift and deliberate motion, he turned my body around so he was now standing behind me.   I gathered my hair and tossed it over my shoulder so it was not in the way.  With one hand, he reached around in front of me and began rubbing my pussy once again.  With the other, he began exploring my thigh.  I could feel his hard member through his boxers rubbing against my ass.  I leaned back into him and turned my neck so I could kiss him, but his strong hands continued to work over my body, and I was lost in his touch.

His hands took a break from their current locations and he began to feel my flat and toned stomach.  One hand began to work up my torso and began playing with my breasts.  I stuck my ass out a little so I could feel more of him against my ass.  And as quickly as I did that, one arm locked around the front of me, and his other hand pushed against the middle of my back.  He was bending me over.

Not knowing what would happen next, my hands braced myself against a wall.  I was not only bent over, my upper half was at a ninety degree angle from my lower half.  Without a word, he took his hands and put them under my ass and against my inner thighs and pushed them apart; which signaled me to part my legs more.

Looking at the wall, I admired my manicured fingernails on my new feminine hands.   And for a split second, all of the events in the past came back to me; reminding me of the gift I was given.  I loved my new body, all the way down to how my hands looked, especially as the braced me against the wall.

“Fuck me”, I pleaded with my old self.

“Not yet”, my old self responded.  And with that, I turned my head to look behind me and could see him take off his boxers and was now fully naked.  He kneeled down behind me, slowly moved my thong to one side, and began to bury his face in my ass, letting his tongue work up and down my crack.

Although unexpected, it felt fantastic, and I let him continue and did not want him to stop.  He had enough but as he started to get up, I shifted my weight so one arm could brace me against the wall, and turning slightly, I took my other hand and ran it through his hair until lit was at the back of his head, and I pushed his face back into my ass, but this time only lower, so his tongue could lick my pussy.

Having someone other than myself touch my new pussy was even more intense as I thought it would be.  My body began to tingle as his tongue licked the juices coming from my excited pussy.  I began to moan, and as his intensity rose, my moans turned into breathy pants.
 
With both hands on the wall and bent over, I tossed my hair to one side and looked down.  Although I could not really see him working on my pussy, I began looking at my new body.  I loved my new point of view.  I admired my sexy feet and how they fit perfectly in my favorite heels, and how tanned and toned my legs were.

Between my own admiration and my old self working on my pussy with his tongue, the waves of pleasure running through my body picked up in intensity and frequency.  I was getting ready to have an orgasm.  Panting and moaning in pleasure, I bit my bottom lip as the moment mounted.  Letting out a long, moan, I came, and the orgasm lasted for minutes as I focused on the pleasure my pussy was getting, and how I loved my new body.

Feeling my orgasm was at its end, I looked forward to reaching my next one, but not before I gave my old self some pleasure.

I stood up and he backed away from me.  I positioned him to sit at the edge of the bed and he complied, knowing it was my turn to be in control.

I slowly parted his legs as I got down on my knees, positioning myself right in front of his nice hard cock.  Grabbing it with one hand, I began licking his shaft with my tongue.  He moved my hair to one side and I could tell he was watching me.

His shaft felt good on my tongue, and once it was thoroughly licked, I looked up at him, waiting for confirmation that I could do more.  Looking at me, I knew he was ready, and I lowered my mouth over his cock and slowly put it into my mouth.  His salty pre-cum tasted good as I used my tongue to massage his shaft.  After a moment of adjustment to figure out the most pleasing method, I began bobbing my head up and down, his shaft getting even more erect in my pretty mouth.  I loved the feeling, and my body yearned for more.

Taking a second to breathe, my mouth released his cock and I looked up at him.  His face told me I was performing well, and my hand grabbed his shaft once again, but this time, my tongue licked his balls, and I could feel his body react to the intense sensation.  After a few moments, I needed him in my mouth again, and I wrapped my lips around his cock and began to suck on it gently.  His hands ran through my long soft hair, and I knew he was enjoying my work.

After a few minutes, he signaled me to get up, and I stood back in front of him, hovering over him since he was still sitting on the bed.

“Do you like my shoes?” I asked playfully with a smile.

He looked down and began to rub my foot.  The rub quickly turned into him kissing the front of my legs while his hands massaged my foot.

Putting a hand on the headboard of the bed, we turned slightly and I let him lift my foot to his mouth, and his tongue began licking my pretty toes.  I looked down at him worshipping my feet, and loved the attention.  With my free hand, I slid it inside my thong and began rubbing my clit.  I loved to watch him worship my sexy feet, and as he kissed my exposed arches, I almost lost balance as I got lost in the feeling of his touch on my foot and my touch on my pussy.

“Lay down” he said, finishing his work on my foot.

“You first” I replied, knowing it was his turn to please me.

He moved over and lay down on the bed and I got on the bed with him and straddled myself on top of him.  He moved my thong to the side as I slowly lowered myself onto his cock, my heels rubbing against his legs to brace myself.

I could not wait for him to be inside me.   As I slowly lowered myself on him, I took his cock with one hand and rubbed the tip of his penis against my clit a few times.  It felt nothing like the dildo I had used before.  It was warm and wet, and massaged my clit perfectly.  I then moved it to slide inside me, and as the head of his shaft penetrated me, a bolt of pleasure ran up through my body.  It felt amazing.  Taking time to enjoy the feeling, I bobbed my pussy so that the tip of his cock entered me just a little, and my tight pussy loved the feeling.  Eventually, I was ready for his full member, and I finished lowering myself on top of him.

The feeling was intoxicating.  I felt complete with his cock inside of me.   His hard shaft filled my warm pussy, and I quickly learned how to tighten myself around his shaft to get even more pleasure.  I began to bounce effortlessly on his hard, thick cock.

I looked down at him, he had his eyes closed, but he was loving the feelings too.  I ran my hand through my hair and brushed it to one side, and it tickled my shoulders and back as I began rocking my sensual hips on top of him; my tits bouncing gently as my body moved over his.

His hands quickly went from my hips to my stomach and breasts.  He slowly worked my lingerie down a little, exposing my breasts, and I leaned over him, putting my soft, full breasts in his face.  He began licking one of my nipples, and I increased my rocking on top of him.

After several minutes, I felt I was getting ready for another orgasm and I sat upright, taking a few moments to grope my own breasts.  My old self looked at me in awe.  He had never seen Meghan do that before.  My hands explored my new sexy female form, my breasts, my stomach, and the tops of my thighs as I began rocking my hips harder and harder on top of him.

Getting ready to cum, I leaned forward and put my delicate hands on his chest to brace myself.  My long blond hair fell over my shoulders and I felt completely sexy and feminine.  I locked my eyes on his, and continued to rock my hips methodically on top of him, my sexy high heels rubbing against his thighs.  Breathy pants and small moans began to swell up from inside me.  The pleasure was more than I could bear, and I instinctually bit my bottom lip as I began to cum, my thighs squeezing around him as my pussy tightened around his hard cock inside of me so I could feel all of it inside me.  I closed my eyes, taking in the sensations as waves of pleasure radiated throughout my already tingling body.
 
As the orgasm subsided, my eyes began to open.  For a split second, memories of my sexual fantasy I had the night I took over Meghan’s body and life filled my mind.  What if when I open my eyes, I’m back in my old body?  I began to worry, which took away from the happiness I was feeling.

I opened my eyes.  I was ecstatic that I was still Meghan!  I looked down at my old self, and he was fixated on my body, and still lifting his hips up to be fully inside me.  I moved my arm toward him and he took my hand, guided it to his mouth, and began sucking on my fingers.  I leaned on top of him more, and replaced my fingers with my mouth, and we began kissing, his members still hard inside my incredibly wet pussy. 

“I love to make you cum” he said, taking break from kissing, confident he knew he had made me cum twice already.

“You feel sooo good” I replied softly.  “Its like you were made to fit inside me”.  I grinned thinking about the irony of the situation.

Now was his turn to feel good.  I lifted myself off of him and lay on the other side of the bed.  He got up and got on top of me and spread my legs apart as his cock entered me.  It felt like it was the first time, as his head penetrated my tight pussy a few times, an eventually he filled me up and began pumping inside me.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, and reveled in how my long sexy legs seemed to wrap effortlessly around him.  My hands reached around his arms and I began feeling his arms and how powerful they felt as they kept him up on top of me.  Our lips met for more kissing, and as his hard cock began to pump into my pussy harder and harder, sharp moans escaped from me.  I could hardly take his cock like that, but the feeling was intense.

After a while, I whispered, “How do you want to cum?” something that the old Meghan never would have asked.

“I want your legs up” he responded immediately.

He took his cock out of me as my smooth long tan legs rubbed against his body, his eyes closed in enjoyment of the pleasure.  My legs moved to rest on his shoulders, and I loved this new point of view.  He lifted himself up a little, held his own shaft, and slid it back inside of me.  All I could respond with was a pleasure filled “Ughhh” as his cock plunged deep into my pussy from this new angle.

One hand was behind my head feeling my soft silky hair as I laid there, him pumping inside me.  The other hand began to rub my thigh and front of my legs and I took in the sensation of my soft skin being caressed by my delicate hand.  My sexy feet in my heels looked good on his shoulders, and he eventually noticed that too, sitting up more so my ankles were on her shoulders and my feet were right near his face.  He began worshipping my sexy, dainty feet with his cock still pumping inside me.  Sitting up, his hands were free and he began caressing my feet and using his mouth to methodically kiss and lick them.  I loved how my heels accented my already perfectly sculpted feet.  My whole body was perfectly sculpted, and I loved that it was now mine.  I had Meghan’s body and life, and I was living it to the max.

I began to admire my long tanned legs too.  While my old self did all of the work, I just laid there and enjoyed the view and the sensations.  Before I knew it, I was starting to climax with another orgasm.   While my old self continued to worship my feet, I tightened my pussy around his throbbing cock and it almost fell out of me I was squeezing so tight.  This time, I bit my lip gently and let out a sensual scream as I began to cum, and my whole body tensing; my old self continuing to push his cock deeper and deeper inside me.

This orgasm lasted even longer, and I was out of breath by the time it subsided.  My new pussy was dripping wet along with my thong.  During the highest intensity of the orgasm, I had pointed my toes so hard that my toes had started to slip out of my heels.  My old self quickly removed them.

Knowing he was about to cum, I continued to lie there, letting him enjoy himself.  With my feet still on his shoulders, he maneuvered one of my feet so he could suck my toes.  I felt his hot breath on my toes right before his warm mouth covered them.  The feeling was nice, and I lay there, high from all the orgasms, while he continued to pleasure himself and my toes.

He was lost in the moment.  The old Meghan would not have let him do such a thing; but I was happy to oblige.  As he opened his eyes, they met mine, and he gazed at me, looking over my perfect female body, my breasts bouncing back and forth as he continued to pound on my new sex.

He was ready to cum, and he picked up the pace as he took in my beauty, and I soon felt him tense up and his warm cum exploded from his cock.  I loved the feeling as it flooded inside me.

Once his experience was over, he carefully parted my legs, still inside me, and lay on top of me.  I wrapped my smooth legs arms around him and we lay in quietly in a warm, sweaty embrace.

When his cock finally started to release its stiffness, he lifted his upper body up and hovered over me.  He kissed me softly.

“No, I’m the lucky one.” I answered back and gave him one last kiss.

As he got up to clean himself off, I didn’t want to get up for fear of losing the moment.  I laid there in my sexiest lingerie, my body almost numb from all the pleasure.  My darkest desire had come true, and one of its secret fantasies had just been fulfilled.  It was better than I could have ever imagined.

I lay there completely still.  Completely happy.  Completely satisfied.  I just felt complete.