It all began at 6:30 AM on October 1, 2001. My alarm went off, and I went to hit the snooze button to catch a few more minutes of sleep.

"Damn," I thought as my arm hit the night stand, rather than the clock. "The clock's always in the same place. How did it move?"

I went to climb out of bed, and go to the bathroom. "Hmmm, why does it seem like the bed got higher? I must be losing it."

I went into the bathroom, and turned on the light.

"Aaagh!" I yelped. Staring back at me was a woman, about 5'6", 125 pounds with dirty blond hair and blue eyes.
A voice called from the bed, "Jessie, is everything OK?"

"Jessie," I thought, "Who the hell is Jessie?" I figured it was better to play along, for now. "Uh, yeah, I just stubbed my toe on the scale. Go back to sleep."

I had no idea what was going on, but figured I might as well start my daily routine - pee, brush teeth, get in shower. I did the first two, and hopped in the shower. The jets of water hit my body, and gave me a sensation like I never had.

"I still don't know what the hell is going on, but damn this feels good," I thought and closed my eyes. I started to soap myself up, running my hands all over my body. On the one hand, I was still freaked out about whatever was happening. On the other hand, how many times does a guy get to run his hands all over a beautiful woman's body with no questions. My reverie was interrupted by a nibble on the neck, and two big hands grabbing my ass. "Hey," I yelled, turning around to face a 6'3" blue eyed, well-built man with dark hair. He looked kind of like Ben Affleck. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Well, you looked like you were having such a good time in there, I figured I'd join you," the mystery man said, and began nibbling my neck and ear again.

"Stop it," I whimpered, "I have to get ready for work." I had no idea who I was, other than 'Jessie,' or what I did for a living, but it sounded convincing.

"C'mon, take a few extra minutes, honey," he said. "You'll like it, I promise," and he began to kiss me and play with my nipples. I didn't want him to do it, but it felt so good. Plus, I had always fantasized about sex in the shower. Granted, I always figured I'd be on the giving, not receiving, end. But, sometimes, you have to make do. I began kissing him back, and running my fingernail along his penis.

"Somebody's enjoying himself," I purred, figuring if life hands you lemons (or takes them away, as the case may be), make lemonade. "Why don't you show me what you can do?"

"I love it when you get into it," he said, with a leer. He began tickling my clit, with the tip of his penis. I let out a series of little yips and began digging my nails into his back.

"Don't stop," I cried, "Please, don't stop." And he complied, putting his shaft in a little bit deeper and pulling it out. Each time, he went a little bit deeper, and pulled it out. My nails dug deeper, and I felt pleasure in the pit of my stomach like I had never felt before. I couldn't speak, only make little noises. He began pumping harder and faster, until...

"Errghhh, aaagh," he grunted. "Oh, God, yes," I moaned, as he and I simultaneously climaxed. He pulled his shaft out, the head dripping with cum. I bent down, licked the head and kissed each testicle. I figured (a) it was the least I could do, and (b) if I was now a woman, in for a penny, in for a pound.

"Now, get out," I giggled. "I have to get ready for work."
 
 
I guess some explanation is in order. When I went to bed on September 30, I was Josh Martin, a 33 year old balding, overweight, but not obese, attorney in New York. I was married, unhappily, to Stacy, an advertising executive. We had a minimal sex life and, basically, we tolerated each other. We had no kids and I'm not really sure why we stayed married other than inertia. Now, I had woken up in some bizarre, scary yet oddly pleasant universe. Anyway, I patted myself dry and went to get ready for work. Well, first, I needed to figure out who I was, what I did and where I went to do it. I saw a purse on what I guessed was my dresser and rummaged through it.

"What're you looking for?" asked my shower buddy, as he headed into the bathroom.

'Think fast,' I thought. "My Metrocard," I said, "Oh, here it is." And there it was, along with a business card case and my/Jessie's driver's license. The license read "Jessica R. Silverman, height 5'6", eyes blue (I knew that) and date of birth Nov. 6, 1968." Well, whoever Jessica Silverman was, she and I shared the same birthday. Next, the business card case. Voila, a business card.

"Oh, shit," I thought. The card read, "Jessica R. Silverman, Attorney, Sagman, Bennett, Roberts, Oppenheim, & Taft." Apparently I still worked at the same firm. I hated my job. My boss Jack Oppenheim was a classic jerk whose best compliment, sparingly offered, was "Well, you didn't fuck this up." On the other hand, at least the other parts of this new reality would be familiar. Now, that I knew who I was, sort of, I had to get ready for work. I turned on NY1 to get the weather. They expected a high of 70 degrees, a nice New York Indian Summer day.
 
 
Since this was the apartment I fell asleep in, I figured my new clothes would be in what was Stacy's walk-in closet. I opened the closet door and turned on the light.

"Hmmm," I thought, as I looked upon two racks of dresses, skirts and pants, most of which were a lot more feminine than anything Stacy ever wore. She favored pants and sweater sets. "Whoever I am, I have a lot of stuff to choose from." I picked out a black skirt that came about 2 inches above my knee, and a light blue short sleeved sweater. I held them up against myself and looked in the full length mirror on the door.

"Damn, I'm kind of cute. And this will look really cute on me." Where the hell did that second part come from. Anyway, I put them on and admired myself again. Next, I picked up a pair of black shoes with a two inch heel. Damn, I had tiny feet. I walked to my dresser and faced a wide array of lipsticks, blushes and powders. "Oh shit," I thought. "I need to put on make up. How the hell do I that? I mean, clothes are easy, but make up. I'll be pegged immediately."
 
 
I picked up a blush, and inexplicably applied it like a pro. The same with lipstick and eyeliner. I have no idea how it happened. Maybe, it was muscle memory. In my old life, I played golf and they said when you finally learned how to swing the club properly, it was because your muscles had memorized what to do. Apparently, I had makeup muscle memory. I then blew out and combed my hair, put a pair of diamond studs in my ears and put on a diamond heart necklace. When I was finished, I stopped to admire myself. What looked back at me was a very cute little blonde. I dreaded getting on the subway to face the looks. OK, I'm lying. I was waiting to see what it would be like.

I went over to 'Ben Affleck.' "Bye, honey," I said, pecking him on the lips. "Have a good day."

"Bye, Jess," he said, with a grin. "Remember, we're going out with Doug and his wife tonight. Before you say anything, I don't want to, either. But, he's my boss." I made a mental note to try and find something telling me who he was and what he did

I walked the subway four blocks to the subway, stopping at Starbucks on the way. When I walked in, the barista who usually grunted at me said, with a big grin, "Hey gorgeous, the usual?"
"You bet," I said with a smile. I knew how a pretty woman could get anything with a smile.

"One skim latte, and a bagel coming up," he said. Shit, I hate skim lattes, but guessed that I didn't maintain this figure on my usual Mochaccino. He handed it to me and, as he did, I lightly touched his hand and said, "Thanks, Dave, you're the best." I didn't realize that a black guy could blush, but he came close. "Hmmm," I thought, "I don't know what's up, but this chick thing could be fun for a while."
 
 
Sure enough, as I got on the train, I could see a few guys staring at me over the tops of their newspapers. I picked one, and looked him up and down. As he noticed, I quickly lowered my eyes and smiled. He fumbled with his paper, and I really started to embrace this new me. Unfortunately, all good things must come to end, I thought, as I exited the train and approached my office. I took the elevator up and, with a deep sigh, opened the door to my firm's offices. Marisol, our receptionist, greeted me.

"Oyele, chica, look at you," she said, with a big smile. "That outfit is cute and, oooh, someone looks like she got some this morning. I would too, if I had that Brian."

"Marisol," I shrieked, blushing. "This is an office, people will hear." OK, my apparent husband's name was Brian.

"By the way," she said, "Jack was looking for you." I walked towards my office. Jack's office was two doors closer to the front area, so I couldn't avoid him. As I walked past, I said, "I know you were looking for me, Jack. Give me one second to put my stuff down." "Relax," he said, "Take your time, drink your coffee. Then, come in." "Relax?" I thought. "He's never said relax to me in six years."
 
 
I went into my office, and was shocked. My office was, charitably put, uniquely organized. Others in the firm called it a pigsty. Jack called it 'the shithole.' Now, however, it was immaculate. All the files were in the file cabinet, or neatly organized in file boxes. My desk was clear, except for a few pictures. One of me and 'Brian' on our wedding day. The two of us on a sailboat, with my arms wrapped around him. And one of me and several other women, that appeared to date from college since we were all wearing sorority sweatshirts. I turned on my computer, and checked my e-mail. Based on the e-mails, and the document list in Word Perfect, at least I was still working on the same cases. Fifteen minutes later, I steeled myself and went into Jack's office.

"Hi, Jack. I'm finishing the Grantec agreement, and should be..." I began.

"Calm down," he said, smiling. "How was your weekend?"

This was a first. He had never asked about my personal life before, unless you counted, "You getting off that personal call anytime soon, so we can maybe bill some time?"

'Uh, fine," I said hesitantly, "And yours?" He wanted small talk, I'd make small talk.

"Good. Great. Sherry brought the baby over. I love him. His mom drove me nuts, but grandkids make it worthwhile. When are you and Brian going to make it worthwhile for your parents? You'll make some good looking, smart kids, you know."

I was shocked. This was, technically speaking, borderline sexual harassment. I didn't say anything, however, because I was still a little confused about who I was, and was amazed that Jack could be a human being. Instead, I offered, "Thanks, I wasn't in the market for another father, but since you're offering yourself up, can I have fifty bucks?"

He laughed, "Bad enough I gotta take this shit from my own kids, now you."

We discussed some outstanding matters, and I went back to my office to work. I was still totally at sea. I mean, I wasn't thrilled that my whole life had changed, but this one seemed better. I put this out of my mind to get down to work. However nice Jack was now, it was still about the billable hour. An hour later, Marisol buzzed, "Jane Rascoff for you."

I picked up, "Hey, Janey, what's up?" Jane was my fraternity brother Jeff's wife. They were also clients, so I assumed that this had something to do with that.

"Hey, Jessie. Lisa and I were wondering, since the guys were going to be watching the football game Saturday, we could have a girl's day out. Mani-pedi, shopping, the works," she said with a giggle.

"Sure, sounds great," I said. Lisa was my fraternity big brother Dan's wife. She and Janey were tight. Stacy always felt like they excluded her. I was surprised that they invited me, or Jessica, or whoever I was. Then I remembered. Saturday was Michigan-Penn State. I was a loyal U-M alum, and tried not to miss any games, certainly not big ones like this.

"Do you want to maybe watch the game with the guys?" I offered.

Janey laughed. "Since when do you like football? Are you trying to bond with Brian? Besides, they don't really want us there." This was true. I had made the mistake of explaining football to Stacy, as an effort to expand her horizons and help her with the guys at work. She then became obsessed with it, and tried to horn her way into things with the guys.

"Yeah, you're right. I don't know what I was thinking," I said, with a laugh. "We'll all meet at my place and go from there. Girls' day sounds fun." And it did. Part of me always wanted to go with them when they went out on football Saturdays.

"See you Saturday," she said. "Watching football. You crack me up. Bye."

"Bye." I looked at the phone for a second. Apparently 'Brian' is at some level me, since he, Dan and Jeff were all friends. A more successful me, based on the quite honestly good looking wife he has. But, at some level, me. This brought me back to Brian, and who he was, other than a big muscular guy who assaulted me in the shower. I thought maybe my Outlook would help. I scrolled through the listings. 'Silverman, Brian. 555-2143.' I dialed.

"Futures Desk. Sharon speaking," a woman answered. 'Futures,' I thought. 'OK, he didn't answer, so he must be a trader. They make a good living...'

"Hi, Sharon. It's Jessica. How are you?"

"Fine, let me see if I can peel his eyes from the Bloomberg."

"Hey, what's up, Jess? I'm kind of busy. Market's nuts," he grunted. OK, he's a trader.

"Nothing, just wanted to see if we're still going out tonight," I said.

"Yeah, Le Cirque. We'll meet there at 7. Give her," he said sarcastically, referring I assumed to Doug's wife, "time to get in from Scarsdale."

"Oh well," I said, coquettishly, "I was hoping we could get out of it, and maybe try a variation on this morning." What brought that on? What was wrong with me, that I was getting a charge out of turning guys on?

"Damn, Jess," he said, with a leer in his voice, "Now, how I am going to focus on work?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I said. "I hate to distract you. I'd hate for you to think of me, lap dancing and rubbing my naked ass all over your crotch. Or maybe wrapping my legs around you, while you fuck me standing up. No, I definitely want you focused on work."

"I hate you," he said, with a laugh. "I don't know what's gotten into you today...."

"Check the scratches on your back, and I think you'll find out what's gotten into me today. Anyway, I'll see you at 7. Love you," and I hung up. I knew exactly what Brian was doing now. Trying to remember the lineup to the 1976 Yankees, or thinking about Dan's hairy ass. I was starting to like this power I had.
 
 
I worked until one o'clock, and decided to go for lunch. Usually, I just grabbed a slice of pizza and read my paper. Today, everything seemed more alive. I passed by Saks Fifth Avenue, and looked in the windows. In six years, I don't think I had set foot in Saks except as a short cut from my office to the pizza place when it was raining. Today, however, I decided to see if my new body came with the shopping gene all women had.

First stop, shoes. I don't know why. Maybe it was because Stacy always wore flats, and I, like every other guy, liked heels on a woman. They just looked sexy, and made you realize the differences between men and women. I picked up a pair of what I had once heard Janey call 'strappy sandals' in black, with a three inch heel, and turned them over. $395.00. Damn. Well, this Brian makes a good living. He can afford it.

"Would you like to see those," the salesman said.

"Yes, please." I figured that I never knew when I'd be found out, so "Yeah, sure," would be a sure tip-off. "Could you check my size, though? I'm a little unsure sometimes." He measured my foot. "Seven and a half, miss. Shall I get anything else while I'm in back."

"Yes," I said, picking up a pair of Manolo Blahnik 4" heels, and black boots with a 3" heel. I decided whoever Jessica was, she was going to wear shoes I thought looked good. "These, too." The salesman's eyes lit up. "Can I get you something to drink, miss?" Commission on $1,300 will do that, I suppose.

"No, that's it." I bought the shoes, and decided this was fun. I headed upstairs to the clothes departments. That's somewhat misleading. Saks is something like seven floors. Half of one is devoted to mens, half to kids and another floor is purses. The rest is women's clothes. I was always amazed at the difference and, intrepid anthropologist that I am, decided to explore. I took the escalator up. The second floor was stuff for teenage girls, or women who wanted to dress like them. I skipped it. I never liked when thirty year olds tried to look fifteen. I always wanted to say, "Grow up." I went up another floor. High end party stuff. Maybe some other time, like New Years', if I was still stuck in this body. But, it was lunch and I was on a tight schedule. When the escalator stopped at the fifth floor, I stopped. My eyes were inexplicably drawn to a black dress. It was sleeveless, came to about 3" above the knee and had crisscrossing straps across the back. I always wanted to be with a woman who could wear something like this.

A saleswoman approached, "Would you like to see this?"

"Yes, please."

"What size?"

"Oh, I just lost some weight," I lied. "I'm still a little unsure."

"Whatever you did looks fabulous, dear," she said. "I'd say a six," as she pulled one from the rack. "The fitting room's over there," she said, pointing a finger to a room about ten feet away.

I went in, and tried it on. I had to say, it looked amazing. If I could have slept with myself, I would have. "Let's see it," the saleswoman called out. I walked out, and she let out a whistle. "That looks phenomenal. And I'm not just saying that to make a sale. I've had some women come out, and I've had to diplomatically tell them no."

I blushed. "Thank you."

"Now turn," she commanded, as I gave her a model's turn. "Looks even better in back. The only thing is you can't wear a bra under that, with the straps. Lucky for you, you still have the boobs to do that. You must not have kids yet. Or, if you do, I hate you.'

I was amazed how blunt women could be. I had never met her before, and yet she was discussing my chest. Women always did this. Stacy, Lisa and Janey knew each other ten minutes and were discussing cramps. I had known Dan and Jeff for twelve years, and wouldn't have considered discussing anything similar with them.

"Do you have shoes?" the saleswoman said, stopping my musing.

"I just bought these silver sandals," I responded, taking them out of the box.

"Hmmm, these could work. With those earrings and a platinum or white gold necklace," she said. "Still, I'd go buy a pair of these in black, just in case."

"I don't know," I said. "My husband is going to get upset when he sees these bills." That was so stereotypical. The little wife whose husband was going to complain about the bills. I worked, I made a good salary, who was he to tell me what I could buy? Whoa, chief, calm down. I've been in a woman's body less than one day, and I'm already jumping to conclusions like one.

"Honey," she said. "Put on the dress and the heels, and he won't notice the bills. Besides," she said, taking the platinum Amex I offered her, "if he sends you out with one of these, he won't notice the price tag." I did, however. $600. And I wasn't sure where I was going to wear this.

"One last thing," she said, as she handed me the receipt. "When you wear this dress, bring protection. Or you won't be able to wear it for too much longer, if you catch my drift. By the way, head up to intimates on seven. You can get some more things to distract him, on sale. That," she said, taking a pause, "will make him happy."

She acted like my mom, and mother knows best, so I followed her advice. Another saleswoman about my mom's age materialized, like a commando. Damn, they were quick up here. Men's salesmen let you look around. Not here. Quick strikes. "May I help you?"

"Yes," I said, "I've decided to update all of my things. Bras, panties, lingerie, the works." What the hell? Once you're on, enjoy the ride. I grimaced at the pun, thinking that if I wore some of this, I'd be getting a ride all right.

The intimate commando's eyes lit up at the commission. "Don't tell me your size. Women always think they know, and they're off. Let a pro do it, and you'll be surprised how much better it feels."

"OK," I said, secretly relieved that I didn't have to disclose that I didn't know. "My boobs are in your hands."

She pulled out a tape measure, and wrapped it around me. "34C," she sighed. "What I wouldn't give to be a 34C again."

"You look pretty good, if you ask me," I offered.

"Thanks, honey, but I'm not, what are you 31, 32, anymore."

"32. But I turn 33 next month," I responded, in an effort to mitigate the damage.

"33, huh? Thanks for the effort, but add a few more years to that. Anyway, let's get to work. Are you looking for comfort or sexy?"

"Both," I giggled. "Comfort for day, and well...." What the hell was wrong with me? I was having too much fun. On the other hand, I was getting the wife I always wanted.

"Ooooh," she said, "I like you. This is going to be like having my own Barbie doll." She took my hand, and led me through the department. 25 minutes later, I left with bags full of camisoles, chemises, demi-bras, thongs, teddies, garters and stockings. This little lunch time expedition left me spent. I have no idea how women went back to work after this.

I looked at my watch. Oh shit, it was 1:45. However nice Jack was being, it was still about the billing. I figured I'd better get grab something quick and get back to the office. I stopped at the deli for a salad. I didn't eat salads for lunch normally, but figured (a) have to keep up the charade and (b) I, or Jessica, didn't get this body from eating pizza.
 
 
When I got out of the elevator, Marisol looked and said, "Whoa! Look at all that? How much does Brian make anyway?"

I smiled, and said, "Hey, I work too. Remember?" I thought, "OK, this female closeness is getting too close for comfort."

I ran past Jack's office. He looked up and said, "Jesus Christ, look at all that stuff. You and Roz..." Roz was his wife. A very nice woman. Quite frankly, we had no idea why she stayed married to Jack. "And the kicker is, in two weeks you'll tell Brian 'I have nothing to wear.'"

I laughed and said, "You know Jack, this has to be sexual harassment. Don't make me call a lawyer...or worse yet, Roz and Sherry."

He rolled his eyes. "You know, I AM your boss. Go bill something, so I can at least come up with a reason why I tolerate this."

I went back to my desk, and ate my salad. Now that Jack wasn't such a complete jerk, this place wasn't awful. I plowed back into my caseload. Five hours later, it was time to go. I was unsure of whether to bring all the bags to dinner. Checking them seemed like a mean thing to do to the coatcheck girl. On the other hand, if I didn't, we'd have to come back. I took them.
 
 
When I got to the restaurant, Brian and a couple I assumed to be Doug and his wife were waiting.

Brian stood up and gave me a kiss. "Whoa! Look at all this. Doug, you're picking up dinner tonight. Apparently, I'm broke."

'Please introduce these people to me,' I thought.

"Honey, you remember Doug and Linda." They were in their mid-forties. Linda was an attractive woman, in that 'soccer mom, thank G-d I have a night off' kind of way. I could feel her giving me the once over back. Women can be so catty.

"Oh yes, hi. How are you? How's everyone doing?" I had no idea if they had kids, so I figured 'everyone' was vague enough.

Linda responded, "Everyone's fine. I was telling Doug and Brian that, when I left, Jason and Caitlin were doing, 'don't touch me...I'm not touching you' routine. I live for these nights out."

'OK, they have two kids,' I thought. I can work with that. Now to figure out their ages. "Do you have any new pictures?"

She took some out of her pocketbook. "These are their new school pictures." They looked about six and eight.

"Oh, they're adorable," I squealed. "What grades are they in again?"

"First and third, I can't believe it. Enough about them though. When are you two going to have kids? We have to do something about that figure of yours. I'm jealous," she said with a smile.

"First my boss, and now you," I said. "Does my mother keep you on retainer? If so, I'll double it if you'll stop."
 
 
Dinner went fine. Doug and Brian talked about work. Linda and I discussed my job, her kids, the strain Doug's job took on their sex life. I was amazed. The old me would never had a similar conversation with Stacy's boss' husband. We'd talk about sports and work.

As we left the restaurant and got in a cab, Brian said, "Jeez, what did you buy? We do well, but come on honey..."

I put my finger to his lips. "Tell you what, I'll show you what I bought when we get home. If you don't like it, I'll return it."

When we got home, I went it to the bedroom. "Sit down, honey. When I come out, if you don't like what I bought, it all goes back."

He groaned, "Why do we have to do this? I'm tired."

"Just do it for me. Please?"

I walked out of the bedroom, wearing nothing but a black lace demi-bra, thong and the 4" black heels. "Well, can I keep it?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed me and gave me a deep kiss that lasted for what seemed like five minutes. Then he scooped me in his arms, carrieed me to the bedroom and threw me on the bed. He began by taking off the bra and kissing my nipples. At first I was alarmed, but then I let go and enjoyed it. I whimpered a little, "Honey," I said meekly. Then he pulled down the thong and began licking me. As good as he was in the morning, he was even better with his tongue. I came three times.

"Now fuck me," I purred. "Ride me hard, cowboy and put me back wet." Where the hell did that come from? I sounded like a bad porn movie. I went to kick off the heels.

He grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "Keep them on, babe. I like 'em," he said.

"Ooh, someone's kinky," I said, wrapping my legs around his upper back. Again, I always wanted sex like this with Stacy. I just always figured I'd be on top. We went at it for half an hour, rolling around. Him teasing me with his shaft. Me nibbling his ear, his neck and everywhere else. Before he finally came, I came three more times. Stacy and I usually lasted ten minutes, with a minimum of playing. She always seem bored.

"I don't know how I'm going to walk tomorrow," I moaned when we finished.

He rolled over and smiled, "I'll say it again. What's gotten into you today?"

"You don't like it," I mock pouted. "I'll never do it again."

"Whoa, baby. I didn't say that..."
 
 
The rest of the week went fairly uneventfully. Brian had several early meetings, so unfortunately we had to waste water by showering apart. I made up for that though at night. I found myself having fun being a girl. I learned, for example, that I liked the taste of cum. The first time Brian shot his load into my throat I almost gagged. I then discovered that the salty, sticky taste wasn't so bad. I also learned that I could make him beg, by bringing him almost to climax and then stopping. By Thursday, it was all I could do to keep from attacking it when he came through the door. But then, I had also learned all the other fun uses for a cock as well. For example, it was a fun toy for tickling my ass. And as my own personal dildo. I'd sit on top of Brian and play with my clit while he thrust in and out. At first he complained, but when we'd come simultaneously and then I'd lick him like an ice cream cone, he found he liked it.

I also had a chance to live out every fantasy I'd ever had, albeit differently than I'd planned. For example, Brian discovered that he liked mild S&M. I'd get dressed up in my black teddy and 3" boots, and tie him to the bed. He'd mock protest and then I'd spank him with his fraternity paddle. Then he'd "fight back" by flipping me over and fucking me slowly so that I'd be just on the cusp of an orgasm. I'd beg for relief and he'd keep going. We did everything that week, even the Catholic school and cheerleader things ('Give me a 'C,' give me an 'O,' you fill in the rest.') I hadn't had much sex in my old life to compare, but this was clearly the best sex we'd ever had.

I found myself doing better at work too. Clients were complimenting me to partners, Jack told me what a great job I did, quite frankly I was amazed. I still was confused and a little concerned about what had happened. I even wondered what had happened to Stacy. But even so, my life appeared to be going better.
 
 
Saturday rolled around. When I woke up, Brian was already out of bed. "Honey, where are you?"

"Jess, can it wait? I'm watching College Game Day. I want to hear what they have to say about today."

"Ahem," I coughed as I exited the bedroom wearing nothing but one of his football jerseys. I leaned one leg up against the wall like a model in a magazine ad.

"What do you want?" he said. Then he looked up, and his jaw dropped.

"You know," I said coyly. "I think if you tried a pass, you might make it to the end zone. I walked over to the couch, wiggling my hips more than usual. I sat down in his lap, and began moving my ass like a lap dancer.

"Now, if you want to watch TV, I can find something else to do..." Then I turned around, so that I was facing him and began kissing his neck. "I mean, I know this is a big game and I wouldn't want to disturb you. I reached down between his legs and freed his cock from his shorts. He began to get up.

"No, stay right there, I'm in control. You're just my fuck toy."

I began moving up and down, taking his shaft deeper and deeper. "Mmmm," I moaned, "I love it like this, don't you. Oh sorry, Game Day's on, I'll get up," I said, rubbing his hairy chest and tweaking his nipples. He just made some guttural noises.

I stood up. "Lay down on your back," I commanded. He, needless to say, did what I said. I then put my pussy right over his face, with my back to him.

"Before we take care of you some more," I said, "take care of me."

He began licking my clit. Like I said before, he knew every way around a girl. "Don't stop," I said, leaning forward until I was looking at his cock. "Keep going."

I began running my fingernails up and down. "Don't cum. I'll be very disappointed if you cum," I said. I kissed the tip, tasting pre-cum. I playfully asked, "Now this isn't getting you hot, is it. I mean I'm not the Game Day crew."

I began taking him slowly into my mouth, running my tongue along as I did. After three minutes, he and I both came. I stood up, and began walking away.

"Ungh...grunt...what," he mumbled, "where're you going?"

I smiled. "I've got to get ready. Janey, Lisa and I are going out. TTFN." I deliberately wiggled my ass as I left the room.

I went to my closet. "What to wear...what to wear." It was supposed to be sunny and in the mid-70s. "Hmmm, sundress or shorts and a cropped top. I'd look cute in either one." I still had no idea where this was coming from, but each day I became more and more comfortable with it. "Oh, if I'm a girl, I'll be a girly girl," I thought, taking the sundress and a pair of sandals with a 2" heel to the bedroom.
 
 
At 12:00 PM, Janey and Dan came over. "Oooh, don't you look adorable," she said, with what I thought was a wink. No, I must have been confused. "We're going to have fun today. A real girl's day out." I was unsure of why she kept saying that, but figured I never really paid attention before.

Ten minutes later, Jeff and Lisa came over. "Isn't Jess just the cutest thing?" Janey said. Lisa giggled. The guys just rolled their eyes, and watched the pre-game.

"Let me show what I bought the other day," I said, leading the women into the bedroom.

I proceeded to show them everything. When I showed them the dress and heels, they both looked at each other for an instant. Lisa smiled and said, "Someone had fun at Saks. You'll look great hanging on Brian's arm in that." They both grinned. "And speaking of Saks, let's get going. Shop early, shop often. That's my motto."

"We'll see you boys later," Janey said, as we left. What was the sudden focus on boys and girls, I wondered. Again, I just figured I never noticed before. Janey and I had always gotten along fine, but she was my friend's wife and I was the guy who was married to someone she could take or leave. We all piled into a cab. "Bloomingdale's, 60th and 3rd," I said. "I haven't been there all week." Janey and Lisa flashed each other another one of those strange smiles.
 
 
When we got to Bloomie's, we headed up to the shoe department. As we were heading up on the escalator, Janey turned to me and said, with a leer, "so how's Brian?"

"Umm, fine, I guess. Busy at work," I said quizically.

"No," she said. "I mean, how's Brian," and she winked.

"Ohmigod, Janey, we've been married four years, I can't believe you'd ask me that."

We got off the escalator, and she and Lisa steered me to a corner.

"Cut it out, Josh," she said, as my jaw dropped. She saw my look of horror. "Yes, Josh Martin. I know who you are."

"But, what...how...huh? Lisa? Help?"

"Well," said Janey, "Lisa and I are witches."

"Excuse me, but that's impossible." I said, not believing her intellectually but feeling differently.

"Really," she said, "we are. Not like Glinda the Good Witch or anything. Probably more like 'Bewitched.'"

"Let's assume, for the sake of argument, that you are," I said, regaining my lawyerly bearings. "What did I do to you to deserve this?"

"I won't take that as an insult," she said. "Let me explain, everyone has an aura that reflects their inner spirit. Those with a feminine inner spirit have a pink aura, those with a masculine inner spirit have a blue one. Only those with special powers can see them"

"Of course. Uh, huh, go on," I said, tensing up.

"Anyway, Lisa and I like to read people's auras. See if we can guess who has what."

"Sounds like a real blast," I mumbled.

She rolled her eyes at Lisa. "Anyway, remember that party at Adam's house in July. We started reading everyone, and guess what. Your aura is hot pink, and Stacy's so blue it's almost black."

Lisa chimed in. "I told Janey that before we checked. I mean you always loved playing with Adam's kids. You oooh and aaah over puppies. And I saw the look you'd get whenever you saw Janey and me leave to go shopping."

"No way," I said angrily. "I mean, so I like kids and dogs. That doesn't mean anything. And I just got that look when you'd leave because I felt bad that you never invited Stacy."

"Enough already, Josh," said Jane, with a tone of annoyance. "Look at you. Look at that dress and shoes. You could've chosen anything to wear today and you wore that. How girly could you be?"

"Ummmm..."

"Have you even worn pants or anything remotely masculine or even neutral this week? And I saw how your eyes lit up when you showed us that dress. Sure, you were in this body, but you certainly need the dress and that underwear. All of that says, 'I love being a girl,' doesn't it?"

"Well...I mean...I suppose," I said.

"And," she continued, "from what I've heard, you're quite the little nympho, and a kinky one and that, miss shower, miss S & M."

I turned bright red, "Ohmigod, how did you know that. Can you see into our life?"

They both guffawed. "Uh, not quite. Brian told the guys about everything. Men are such gossips."

"OK," I smiled, for what seemed like the first time in an eternity," But why did you do this to me?"

Janey continued. "Like I said, you have this hot pink aura, pinker than most women. Anyway, were you happy with Stacy? With your job? With your life?"

"No, not really," I said.

"And how have you felt this week? I mean, how's work? We know how your personal life is going..."

"Actually, much better. Jack is actually being nice to me, and clients compliment me."

"You're happy and it shows. I mean, I've been watching you today. You walk with a smile and your head held high. Josh always looked depressed, and walked like he had the world on his shoulders. Am I wrong?"

"No, I suppose not."

"See," said Lisa. "By making your body match your aura, we've made you whole. And a whole woman is much better than half a man, don't you agree? But, if you want to change back..."

We all stood for a minute. Then I gave each of them a hug and kiss. "No, you know what, I love being like this. I love being a girl. I love the clothes, the make-up, the shoes. I love driving men wild. And, to answer your original question, I LOVE Brian. If Jeff and Dan can do half the things he can, you're both very lucky." This time, they both blushed.

"Oh, stop it, you little slut," Janey said, "Let's get to work here."
 
 
Later, over lunch, I turned to them. "So, if I'm now Jessica, does that mean Stacy is Brian?"

Janey smiled, "No, no, no. You two were never happy. Stacy's still Stacy."

"But, I thought she had a blue aura."

"She does."

"Then, why didn't you make her a guy?"

"Your initial impressions were right. We didn't like her, so why would we make her whole. She's still married. But this time to a guy who isn't as nice to her as you were. You were, quite frankly, a wimp when it came to her. This guy puts her in her place, which isn't nearly as nice as yours, by the way. A walk-up. With roaches."

I smiled devilishly. "Boy, this day has turned out even better than I thought."
 
 
--Epilogue, June 2004--
 
"Well, Ms. Silverman, I have some visitors to see you," said the nurse, leading Janey and Lisa in.

I held up my new daughter, Rachel. "Isn't she just the most perfect thing you've ever seen?"

Janey smiled, "It looks like my little Scott has a girlfriend. and Lisa's little girl will have a friend" Janey had a little boy four months previously. Lisa was seven and a half months pregnant with a girl. Rachel began to cry.

"Someone's hungry," said the nurse, as I took my breast out of my gown. Rachel began sucking away.

"Thanks," I said to Janey and Lisa through my tears, "Thank you for everything."
 
 
Note: TG magic transformation Rated-M
Posted by: Miss Jessica on Monday, August 09, 2004 - 12:12 AM