by Sophie Pert
Still she looked back at me, a slight and satisfied smile on her face.
So I was her now. I couldn’t explain it and I certainly didn’t understand it but there was no denying it. I was a woman.
And I was late!
A glance at the clock and I noticed it was late-afternoon and remembered that I had to work tonight.
I didn’t have a steady job, couldn’t afford the time frankly I needed to be focused on school and classes. But I had been sitting ever since I was in high school and now in college it still proved to be a good way to make money.
I really needed the money and I needed to get going now if I was going to make it on time.
I ran to the closet and pulled out some clothes, the usual boxers, jeans and a t-shirt that I always wore. I pulled them on and took a step. The jeans fell to the ground, the boxers hung around my hips and the t-shirt was so enormous on me I felt like I was drowning in it.
This wasn’t going to work, this body was so much smaller than my old body. If I was going to go outside I would need clothes that actually fit me.
My eyes fell on the pile of clothes she was wearing last night.
Better than nothing I guess.
I stripped off my clothes and ran over to the pile. The panties were straightforward, nice little briefs that really highlighted just how perky this ass was. I’d never noticed that last night.
I pulled the bra on, remembering how I’d seen girls bend and pull their breasts in to properly fit in the cups. It felt weird, but comfortable so I chalked the weirdness up to never having worn a bra before.
The shorts were easy and straightforward, and even though there wasn’t much fabric to them they still were something at least. Plus there was no denying that my thighs looked fantastic in them.
The t-shirt was amazingly comfortable and baggy, and I never dreamed that such a simple piece of fabric could make me feel so desirable.
Someone was poking me in my hip and I reached in and pulled out a driver's license. The picture on it was the girl I had been transformed into and the name on it was “Madeline”. I remembered idly a girl that I went to school with named Madeline, though she went by Ellie. I’d always had a crush on her but had never had the courage to do anything about it. Though, thinking back with a smile, I was pretty sure that I was hotter now than she ever was.
With a bounce in my step I grabbed my keys and headed out the door.
I hopped into my car and headed down the road towards the house. It was a little ways away but with a bit of luck I just might make it on time.
The man I was helping out was a good guy, a single father. I’d heard that his wife had disappeared mysteriously a few years back, just a short while after their kid was born. It was a sad story but he’d been trying to move on lately, trying to date a bit or even just get out of the house.
Which was where I came in, I would watch the kid while he was out. It was an easy gig, half the time the kid was already asleep when I showed up and all I had to do was sit in the house and watch tv or play video games.
As for the husband his name was Frank and he was just a real good guy. He was open and honest and more than once he’d come home from a night out and just talked with me. About life, about school, about interests. We got along really well, had a lot of things in common and managed to always find a way to fill the conversation.
He had opened up to me about his wife just once, and then only briefly. He told me that she had meant the world to him, and that he had never been bored with her around. That conversation with her was always easy. He told me she was beautiful and that he missed her terribly.
The worst part about everything, he had said, was that she just disappeared one day. It was shortly after their kid was born and he woke up in bed alone. She was gone. Everything was still there as far as he could tell, all of her belongings still right where they were but she was absent.
It was like someone had plucked down and just removed her without a trace.
When he told me this, there was so much genuine confusion and sadness on his face that it was easy to take him at his word. He was a hurt man longing for closure.
As I made the final turn onto his street it occurred to me at that I was a complete stranger, and not myself. I knew that I needed this job, but Frank didn’t know who the hell I was and why would he possibly leave his kid with a complete stranger. I needed an excuse, some sort of an explanation to give for why a strange woman had shown up to watch his kid.
I’m going to be honest, the option I settled on was the first one I came up with, and as I pulled into his driveway I was pretty sure it was a terrible choice.
I got out and made the very long walk to the front door of the house, knocking a few times.
Frank opened the door, looking out at me with a friendly but indifferent smile on his face and said, “Hello.”
“Hi… um… Frank?” I asked, and his face went through a range of expressions all at once, as if he was very confused but wasn’t certain what exactly he was confused about.
“Yes,” he said, his brow lowering with suspicion and a bit of confusion.
“Hi Frank, I’m Ellie. I’m Oliver’s cousin and he is sick so he sent me to take his place,” a meek smile showed on my face, completely unconsciously.
“Umm, I dont…” he trailed off.
I had a flash of genius, “The car. I borrowed his car. Check the driveway.”
He stepped out briefly and glanced and if I was reading him correctly I saw a brief bit of recognition. I just might pull this off.
“Please come in,” he said, stepping aside to let me into the house.
I walked in and he followed me in. Slipping off my shoes he led me further into the house.
There was something odd about the way he was acting, and to be honest it really felt like it was more than just the natural response of having a stranger show up at your door and offer to watch your kid. It was like there was something he was trying to puzzle together but there was a half dozen pieces missing and he wasn’t certain what exactly to do about it.
“So,” he said, leading me through the house, “You’re Olivers cousin?”
“Yep!” I said, as perky as I could to try to alleviate some of the tension.
He led me into the sitting room, saying, “You look familiar. Have we met somewhere before?”
“Not that I know of,” I said and it was the honest truth, I didn’t know where this body had been before I got it for all I know she could have been a girl he met at a bar sometime just like I did. Though that might mean that he was in the same situation as I was now so I doubted it.
The truth was there was something bugging me about this too, some sort of familiarity. I’d chalked it up to my actually knowing him but considering his odd reaction I wasn’t sure whether it wasn’t something more. Something else…
“Come and sit,” he gestured at the couch and I sat while he took an armchair facing me.
He looked me up and down and I twiddled my thumbs and sat in awkward silence.
“Look, I don’t know that I can trust you. I mean I’m just being honest this is all a bit weird,” he said.
I interjected, “Oliver is really sorry about all of this and he really wishes he could make it up to you but he just… he’s sick and he couldn’t make it.”
He was silent for a while, considering his options, “Maybe if I could just talk to him about this…”
“You can’t,” I said firmly, and perhaps a bit too firmly, “He has strep throat. Has lost his voice. Can’t talk on the phone.”
“Ok,” and he trailed off.
“Look I know this is weird but I’m super responsible and I’ve watched kids a whole bunch so I’m totally used to it and everything. I know it’s weird just letting a stranger watch your kid but I promise I’m super capable,” the words tumbled out of me in a bumble.
“Well,” he said, starting to come over to my side, “The kid is asleep…”
“Please you don’t need to worry,�
�� I said earnestly, “My cousin feels really bad about all of this but he just wanted to make sure you weren’t too put out.”
There was a pause as he looked deeply into my face, as he studied me presumably to try to see whether I was trustworthy.
I watched him scrutinize me and I took the opportunity to look him over in return and there was something about it that made it like I was looking at him for the first time but still altogether familiar. Like rereading an old favorite book for the first time in years.
He had light brown hair, just slightly salt and pepper at the temples. His jaw was strong and straight, an even line that looked proud and almost sculpted. He had high cheekbones and a strong nose. But what really drew you in were his eyes.
I had a hard time picking out the color. They were either pale grey or an incredibly light blue. Whatever color they were they seemed to shimmer in the soft light of the room and draw you in. They pierced me as he scrutinized me and and I had a hard time looking away, had a hard time not feeling like he was seeing right past my shell and saw right to my core, to the truth of me. I trembled before his gaze.
And more. I felt exposed to him and the thought of it both thrilled and comforted me. I felt something welling up inside of me that was difficult to describe. Some compulsion welling up inside of me.
I wanted to reach out and touch him. To have him take me in his arms. To kiss him and take him inside of me.
I ached for it.
“There really is something familiar about you,” he said, breaking the silence, “But I just can’t place it.”
I swallowed hard, really not sure what was going to happen next and trying my best to hold myself back and avoid leaping into his arms.
“Do you want a drink?” he said, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs out and standing up.
“Sure,” I said, looking up at his imposing form, “A glass of water would be great.”
“Ok,” he said, and then stood there staring at me for a second too long before turning to leave the room.
I shook my head too, trying to get some sort of traction on the situation. My heart was pounding in my chest and beating a taboo in my ears. I struggled to calm myself down, to center myself.
Pushing myself to my feet I stood and started walking aimlessly around the room, taking deep breaths.
There was a massive fireplace in the room, one of those fireplaces with the heavy mantle on top of it. I paced in front of it as I tried to get some control. There were a series of framed photos on the mantle and I’d seen most of them before but one of them stood out to me this time.
With a trembling arm I reached out and plucked it from the mantle, holding it in both hands as if it was a precious jewel while my eyes went wide and I stared at it.
It was unmistakable. It was her.
The woman from last night, Madeline. This was a photo of her.
She was standing in a field, dress blowing lightly in the breeze. She was older in this photo but still the resemblance was clear. Her hand was out and in his, and they stared at each other with blissful smiles on their faces.
Frank and Madeline.
I heard his footsteps as he entered the room. I turned to look at him and he looked at me. There was no mistaking the expression on his face. He had realized while he was out of the room. The realization had been so sudden he hadn’t even brought a drink back.
He crossed the room and took the photo from my hands, looking from me to the photo and then back again.
His voice was so soft when he spoke, “Why didn’t I see it before?”
Slowly his hand reached out, touching my cheek, “Madeline?”
I turned away from him, blinking hard, “No. I’m not her.”
I took a deep gulp and balled my fists and turned to him. I told him everything, all of it coming out of me in a rush as I confessed.
“I’m Oliver and I don’t know what happened but I woke up like this. I met this woman at a bar last night who looked just like this and we went home and then when I woke up this morning I was her and she was gone and I don’t know what to do. I’m so sorry about this if I had known that I looked like her then I never would have come here-”
He cut me off, comforting me with a shush and taking me in his arms. He held me in silence and we just stood there in the middle of the room trying to process this. Trying to make some sense of it.
“I don’t know what is happening,” I said, my voice cracking slightly.
“Neither do I,” he confessed.
I relaxed in his arms, feeling more at home and at peace than I had in a very long time. It was undeniable. There was something about this. Something right.
I looked up at him and he looked down at me and in his eyes I saw the truth, I saw that he felt it too.
“Maybe this is some sort of sign?” I asked.
“Maybe,” he said, the words coming to him easily, “Maybe this is something new.”
He ducked his head down and I closed my eyes and felt his lips touch mine and in an instant my heart stilled and then began to pound in my chest. There was no denying it. There was an instantaneous and powerful connection here.
Frank held me still and our lips connected again and again as we pressed our bodies against each other. My arms snaked up to wrap around his neck while his hands slid down to hold my waist. I felt the strength of him pressing against me, the surprising muscularity of his body evident from the confident and easy way he held me and moved me.
Our lips broke and we were speechless, though both of us wanted this right here neither one of us wanted to break the spell. There was something else, something powerful outside of us that had guided us to this here and now and though we were happier than we had been for a long time both of us just wanted to exist in this moment. To remain quiet. To keep this moment just for us.
He scooped me up in his arms, one arm lifting under my knees and the other supporting my back. He held me with his easy strength and walked out of the room with me. There was no strain on his face as I watched him walk through the house. He kept his eyes ahead, not looking down at me, and I saw the strength in the core of him, the inner peace that gave him his guiding force. He was a man I could fall for, and I had a feeling I was.
He took me up the stairs and into his bedroom at the end of the hall. It was one of the only rooms in the house that I had never been in. It was tastefully decorated but sparsely furnished, just a dresser and a bed, not even any paintings on the wall. It didn’t matter, we weren’t here to admire the scenery.
He placed me down on the bed, my head falling gently on the pillow. Looking down at me he regarded me with a frank curiosity, reaching a hand out to gently stroke my hair. Then he slid into bed next to me.
We both lay on our sides, staring at each other with what almost qualified as nervousness in our eyes. We both wanted to go further, to make this moment happen, but neither of us was ready to take the first step.
I breached the distance between us, reaching a hand out and lightly stroking the side of his face. My fingers traced the line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the curl of his ear and then slid down. Down his neck and down his chest. Palm out I pressed against the flats of his pecs and left it there, feeling the hard tautness of his muscles and the rapid pounding of his heart. He was nervous and the thought of him being nervous for me made me blush and look away.
He moved towards me, crossing the distance between us as his lips touched mine once more. The chemistry between us was electric, making my heart skip a beat.
His hand touched my hip then slid down and around to cup my pert butt. He squeezed it lightly and I moaned into his mouth. I pressed my tongue past his lips, grinding my ass into the palm of his hand as I traced a trail across his tongue. I felt his other hand reach out and cup my breast through my shirt and I moaned once more for him.
I let my other hand slip up under the bottom of his shirt, feeling the hard ribbing of his sculpted abs before sliding down. My fingers snaked just into the waistban
d of his pants and tugged forward, pulling his hips towards mine.
As our bodies crushed against each other I let my fingers snake further down into his pants, reaching in and finding just the base of something long and hard and thick before withdrawing.
I slid my whole body on top of him. Letting myself lay there on top of him and press myself against his firm body. His hands slipped around to grab my ass, on palm on each globe. He gently squeezed and kneaded them, feeling them through my shorts, before sliding down to run his fingers up and down the smooth skin of my thighs.
I slid my hands between us, fingers under his shirt feeling the bumps and ridges of his chest as I pushed ever upwards. I slid his shirt up, breaking our kiss only briefly to peel it off of his torso. Then I placed one light kiss on his lips and pressed my palms against his chest, pushing my body up and off of his.
I looked down at him, taking in the muscular curves and bulges of his torso. The definition of his muscularity. The wide flats of his pecs. The broad bulges of his shoulders.
He stared up at me too, his eyes full of lust and need. His hands slid to my shirt, pulling it up and over my head to bare my bra clad breasts to him. He bent at the waist, his greedy lips kissing my cleavage and sending another thrill of excitement through my body.
Both our hands fumbled between us, playing and prying at the clasps and zippers of each others pants. I managed to get his undone and lifted myself off of him slightly to slid them down his thighs. He kicked with his legs to throw them across the room before I pressed my denim clad sex back down against him.
There were so many layers between us, my panties, my shorts, his boxers, but still through them all I could feel the insistent pressure of his hard bulge pressing against me.
His lips traced kissed up and down my cleavage, pressing against first one and then the other breast. They kept their incessant connection as his hands grasped my waist with a firm grip and spun us. Now he was atop me, my legs spread with his hips grinding against me again and again. I heard my breath become heavy, my eyes closing as I reveled in the feel of this man weighing atop me.
He slid to one side and his deft hands pulled my shorts from me before he slid away.