Manhattan Miracle

by Dawning, Dee

  "Is there high rise in Manhattan?"

  As he began to glide into me, I remembered protection and yelled, "Wait!"

  "What?"

  "You're not wearing a condom."

  "Do you have any?"

  "You're the guy!"

  "Who until this morning was you—a woman."

  "Sorry, you're right. I keep some in the nightstand."

  Mouthing a series of expletives, Brad got off the bed and rummaged through the night stand.

  "There aren't any in here."

  "Try the other nightstand."

  Brad padded to the other nightstand and rifled through it. He straightened and held up the foil wrapped packet. "Ah, here they are." He peeled off the foil, cocked his head and frowned as he held up a strange bluish condom. "What is this?"

  "It's a ribbed and studded prophylactic. My last girlfriend brought a box of and left them. She swore by them. Swore they massaged her 'G Spot' and gave her the strongest orgasms ever." I tittered. "I guess I get to find out since I'll be the beneficiary of the ribs and studs."

  Brad laughed. "I guess you will." Smiling, he knelt next to me on the bed, and presented the bluish latex shroud to me. "Would milady do me the honor of sheathing my sword?"

  I took the condom from him and laughed as I rolled it down his manhood. "Okay, but please be gentle, this is my first time."

  Brad lolled his head back and roared. "It may be your first time, but my former vagina has been well used."

  I smiled. "Oh you brute! There, big blue Smurfy dick is all set. How do you want to do this for your first time?"

  He scooted between my legs. "We'll start with the basics."

  Twenty minutes later, just as my third release began to wind down, my smartphone brought me crashing back to earth with serendipity tone indicating I'd received a text message. "Baby, would you hand me my purse?"

  Brad reached over to the nightstand and handed the purse to me.

  I retrieved the message and pursed my lips. Dang!

  "What?"

  I scrunched my nose. "It's from Amber. The text says, 'I thought you were going to call me back'.

  "I told you to call her."

  "How could I do that? I'm you and I met her for five minutes two nights ago."

  Brad sighed. "There's no getting around it. I'm going to have to tell her."

  "You're going to tell her? How are you going to do that?"

  Brad shook his head. "I don't know yet. Call her and set something up for tomorrow afternoon. I'll have to figure something out to tell her. Oh wait. Tomorrow won't work."

  "Why?"

  Brad grinned. "Amber has a weekly date with a Federal Judge on Saturday afternoons."

  I pursed my lips. "So? Just make it for tomorrow evening."

  "That won't work either."

  "Why not?"

  He grinned. "Remember, I told you I had a date with a City Councilman, which due to our strange new circumstances, I can't take, so you have to."

  I rose up on my elbows. "Do I have to? I've only been a woman for twenty-four hours and I don't even know him."

  "I thought you told your friends that if you were a great looking woman like me, you'd be a slut."

  "I did but…"

  One of Brad's eyebrows rose. "Besides, if you want to make half a million tax free bucks a year you have to. It's up to you."

  I frowned. "I thought it was a million."

  "It is full time, but with you working at Bayside, I thought you'd have to pull back some on the dates."

  I cocked my head left. "Yeah, I can see that. Tell me about tomorrow night's date."

  "His name is Jim Warren. He's a little strange but harmless. He's in his early forties, nice looking and a relatively good lay. You'll be with him for an hour, which is twenty-five hundred and he tips five hundred."

  Three thousand for an hour? "All right, I'll see how it goes. Any more dates coming up?"

  Brad shook his head. "Only regulars. I have about a dozen regulars."

  My jaw dropped, when the image of a dozen naked men flashed through my mind. "A dozen regulars? How do you squeeze a dozen guys into one week?"

  "They're not all weekly. We'll go over that later; right now, I'm worried about telling Amber about us."

  "Hmm. How about Sunday afternoon?"

  Brad nodded. "That'll work. Set it up."

  "Good, I'll call her right now." Amber was the first name on my call list so I pushed her name, send and examined my nails as I waited.

  She answered on the fourth ring. "Hello."

  "Amber, it's me."

  "Ginger, where are you? What're you doing? Are you in trouble? I've been so worried about you."

  "Don't worry, I'm fine. So much has happened. Too much to explain over the phone. We need to talk in person. Are you free Sunday afternoon?"

  "Yes, why?"

  "Brad and I will come to the condo at one and explain everything."

  "Baby, what are you talking about? Who's Brad? You know we don't bring men here."

  "He was my date last night, and he's already seen our condo."

  "WHAT?"

  I'll explain everything to you on Sunday." I ended the call and smiled at Brad. "It's all set."

  ~ * * ~

  The next morning, Brad shook me. "Wake up. Wake up!" Until I woke up.

  "Wha-a-a?" I glanced at the alarm clock. It read 6:10. "Are you crazy? There's no work today. It's Saturday."

  "I know, but I didn't get that body.” He poked me in the ribs. "You're so fond of, by sleeping in. Since there's still a possibility I might get it back and I'm fond of it too, I'm not going to let you trash it."

  "I'm not going to trash your…uh, my body."

  I looked him up and down. He wore a gray, Gold's Gym T-shirt, black shorts and some sort of gym shoes. Apparently, sensing what I was thinking, he ran a hand across his outfit and scrunched his mouth. "This is all I could find." He held up black glide shorts, a white sports bra and white sports shoes. "I did bring these from my condo for you, though."

  My breasts flopped out from under the sheets as I sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees. "Just what is it you want me to do?"

  "Your choice, run or exercise."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Exercise where?"

  Brad stuck his arms out and shrugged. "Your fitness center. Where else?"

  "I don't belong to a fitness center."

  His brow dipped low. "Really?"

  "Really!"

  He stretched out his arms and turned a three sixty. "But this body of yours is trim and in great shape."

  "Yeah I know." I waggled my eyebrows. "I know from all the wicked, strenuous things you did to me last night." I took his hand, pulled him down and kissed him. "Thank you."

  "Not the mention the things you did to me, using this body, the previous night. I exercise all right. But I believe in enjoying my exercise. I play basketball at the 'Y'."

  "Well, you can't do that anymore."

  "Says who?"

  "Me. You're a woman and though you're gorgeous, you don't have the equipment to be a good basketball player."

  I crossed my arms under my naked breasts. "Humph! I could whip your sorry ass."

  His nostrils flared. "If you were still in this body, I'd agree, but I've played a little basketball and I have a six inch height advantage on you."

  "Big deal. Let's go to the Y and play. I'll run circles around your flabby ass."

  "Thought I was trim and in great shape?"

  "That was before you said you could beat me in basketball."

  ~ * * ~

  I must have touched a nerve because Ginger was a whirling dervish as she jumped out of bed dressed, grabbed my hand and jerked me through the house and into the garage.

  "We'll take the Jag."

  "Where is this place?"

  "In Brooklyn near Prospect Park."

  Twenty minutes later we were on the court at the Y. It was early enough that we had the court to ourselves.

  With
my bulk and height advantage, I figured it would be no contest. However, after she faked a jump shot and zipped around me for an uncontested layup, it was obvious, Brad was no slouch. He was a pretty good basketball player and being in my lean former body had probably picked up a step or two, to boot.

  I felt a little better when after barreling to the basket and missing an easy shot, I put the rebound in over her outstretched hands.

  However, that relief was short lived. When Ginger faked left, stopped on a dime and sailed a three pointer through the hoop as pretty as you please, I knew I was in for a battle."

  When Ginger won the first game, I demanded on a rematch. When I won the rematch, she insisted on best two out of three. When she won the match and refused to play again, she hugged me. "I really enjoyed that. We'll do it again, but I'm starving. Can we go somewhere to eat? I'll buy."

  I laughed. "I had a great time and I too, am hungry. Where would you like to go?"

  "There's a great little breakfast and burger place about two miles from here."

  "Sounds good. Let's go."

  It was a quarter after eleven when we arrived at Happy Days Diner. Ginger/Brad told me the name had nothing to do with the TV show; that the founder was a big FDR fan and borrowed his slogan for the name of the diner.

  Ginger led us to a booth and held my hand as she slid in. "Sit next to me, sweetheart."

  I slid in next to her and opened the menu. Not knowing whether I wanted breakfast or lunch I asked her, "What's good here?"

  She snuggled up to me. "Everything."

  "I ordered a French Dip and Iced Tea. Ginger ordered steak and eggs and coffee. "You know what, baby?"

  "What?"

  "I love being you. Do you think switching bodies was some sort of providence?"

  I thought about it. I can't say I love being a man, but I really look forward to having a corner office in the investment banking industry. Not to mention a beautiful new secretary, with whom I have sleeping privileges. "I wish I knew, but so far I'm enjoying the ride and the biggest reason for that is you're on the ride with me."

  "Aw, that's sweet." She nestled in closer and kissed my cheek. "I hope we never change back."

  I laughed. "Well, let's see if you feel the same after you've been with Councilman Warren, tonight."

  She pulled back some. "Why, is he mean? Does he mistreat you?"

  I shook my head. "No, no. It's nothing like that. Jim Warren is kind and gentle. It's not the clientele. It's the life."

  "The life? I thought you liked the life?"

  "I thought so too, but now, from here, it's not looking as good."

  A warm smile formed on her pretty face. "Well, it sounds exciting, almost romantic. I get to sleep with whomever I choose and get paid tons of money for it. Tell me, if we did switch back, would you go back to being a courtesan?"

  I gulped. "Probably."

  Her beautiful blue orbs narrowed. "Why? You could still work at Bayside."

  "If you let me, I'd continue working there, but…"

  Her long pony tail trailed behind as she shook her head. "Don't worry about that. Even if we went back to the way we were, I'd want you to be part of my life."

  "Thanks, that's nice to know. I was saying, I saw what they're paying you, and while it's good for a secretary, I'm afraid I'm spoiled. I'm used to making and spending a lot more money."

  "That's true. If I wasn't going to continue as a courtesan, we'd have to pool our money. Tell me more about our 'john'.

  I laughed. "Picking up the street lingo, are we?"

  She blushed, "Guess I'm trying to get in the mood. What's he like?"

  "Jim Warren is a submissive. He wants to be dominated by beautiful women, so you will to be in charge. He'll call you mistress and you are to call him slave. Unless you direct otherwise he will crawl on his hands and knees. For the first half hour he'll want you to treat him rough and punish him if he misbehaves by spanking or paddling him. Ask him often to lick your sweetness and suck your nips. For the last half hour he'll expect you to order him to screw you."

  "Wow. Sounds like fun. I wonder, have you ever been a submissive for a client?"

  "No and I'm glad. I don't think I'd like subjugating myself to a client."

  ~ * * ~

  The clothes we'd brought from Ginger and Amber's condo were beautiful and I loved them, but I didn't pick them out. I wanted the thrill of picking out women's clothes, make-up and undergarments as a woman. So after we left the Diner, and got back in the Jag, I asked Brad, if we could go shopping, "You can tag along, or I could drop you off at the townhouse."

  "I wouldn't mind getting a couple things myself, so I'll come along."

  Pleased, I drove into Manhattan. Together holding hands, we visited many of the trendy stores along Fifth Avenue and elsewhere. Dutifully and without complaint, Brad went everywhere I went as I visited Lord and Taylor, Pucci, Cache, and Prada. By the time I called it quits, I'd spent over three thousand bucks, on feminine trappings from provocative cocktail dress and four inch high heeled sandals, to sexy underwear. At least it's, the same amount I'll get from Councilman Warren.

  It was Brad's turn to shop and I accompanied him to Abercrombie and Brooks Brothers, where he bought two suits and some casual wear. It was 4:30 when we finished. We had to hurry home so I could get ready for my date with the councilman.

  It was five o'clock when we got there and Brad urged, "You need to get ready."

  At the townhouse, I headed straight for the closet. Brad followed. "I thought I'd wear this sexy red bra and panties set, under this short, fiery red dress and matching red, Jimmy Cho pumps, I just bought. That ought to turn him on, right?"

  Brad waggled his eyebrows. "You would think so. It would turn me on." Then he shook his head. "But Jim has special tastes and needs." He lifted up a pair of thigh high, black leather, spiked heel boots. "You're to wear these boots and nothing else except a leather collar with spikes." Then he pulled out a tan trench coat. "This coat will hide your nudity coming and going."

  After donning the required costume, I had to admit Ginger looked sexy in thigh high boots and nothing else. But then again, Ginger would look good wearing a paper bag.

  ~ * * ~

  It was obvious Ginger was anxious, so I drove her to the councilman's Queens bungalow and waited in the car. Ironically, the idea of Ginger doing what I had done annoyed me. When I was Ginger, I looked at my profession as a job, but now that I was free of my call girl body and someone I was fond of took my place, I didn't like it. From everything Brad told me he loved being a woman—being me—but I doubt that included whoring.

  I parked across the street from the councilman's home, watched her cross the street, ring the doorbell and when the door opened, go in. Ginger had only been in the house five or six minutes when the front door opened and she stepped out, wearing a tight-lipped frown. She smiled when she saw me, but her expression grew serious quickly and she scuttled down the stairs. She dashed across the street so fast her coat came open and trailed behind, revealing her unclothed body to anyone who happened to be around. Realizing what happened she paused in the middle of the street, long enough to gather the coat, then holding it together, she continued to the Hummer.

  She slid into the passenger seat. I waited for her to explain what happened, but said nothing except, "Let's go."

  I started the car and took off. After we'd traveled a couple blocks, looking straight ahead, she said, "I couldn't do it! Sorry, I thought I could." She angled toward me. "When I said I would sleep around, I just meant, I'd play the field, pick the men who interested me, go out with them, get warmed up, then—if I felt like it, go to bed with them. Having sex cold with someone I don't even know is harder than I thought." I glanced at her. Tears had welled in her eyes.

  "I know. I don't fault you for it. I had a bitch of a time at first, but my back was against the wall. It was either do it or don't finish school. Once I'd finished school, it wasn't that hard to go back to doing it." It didn't matter, but
I asked anyway, "What did you tell him?"

  "Nothing. When I stepped inside, we both got undressed and I started visibly shaking. He asked if was sick. When I nodded he sent me away and said we could do this another time."

  She wiped her eyes with the side of her hand. "I don't think I'll be able to do this. I just hope I didn't screw things up with your client."

  I snickered. "He's your client now. I'm a man. I'm you, remember?"

  "I remember. You make me feel real good." She leaned over the console and kissed me. "Let's go home. I want to have sex with a real man."

  I chuckled. "Can we leave your boots and collar on?"

  "If you like. You can do anything you like to me. I just need a good schtuping, right now."

  Chapter Eight

  After a wonderful night of sex, I let Ginger sleep in. We hadn't eaten since noon the previous day, so, while she slept, I made two ham and cheese omelets with hash browns and dark roast coffee.

  At eleven, I woke her. "I brought you an omelet."

  She yawned and sat up. "Oh thank you, I'm starved."

  I set the breakfast tray over her lap.

  "It smells delicious." She broke a piece off with her fork put it in her mouth. "Mmm, it is delicious."

  After a round of sex in the shower, Ginger and I drove to her condo for our one o'clock meeting with Amber.

  After Ginger pulled her Jag into her space in the Central View high rise condominium parking garage, we took the elevator up to the 43rd floor, and sauntered to apartment 4314. It was obvious from Amber's joyful reaction at the sight of Ginger that she cared deeply for her roommate. She practically leaped in her arms and hugged Ginger for a long time. "It's so good to see you—to know you're all right. She glanced at me and offered her hand. "I remember you. Brad, right?"

  "Yes." I shook her hand and then Amber looked back at Ginger. She took her hand. "Come in please, both of you."

  We entered the flat and Amber motioned us to sit down in the living room. A surprised look formed on her face when I sat on the couch and Ginger chose to sit right next to me and hold my hand.

  "I made some fresh coffee. Would anyone like some? Or would you prefer wine?"

  "Coffee is fine."

  Ginger nodded her agreement. "Yes, coffee sounds perfect."