Dani’s Turn
By Mel Huntington
The author welcomes feedback to [email protected]

January 5, 2018

Six months ago, I buried my wife Jamie. Perhaps you’ve heard but I’ll say it here: Cancer sucks. I finally feel ready to move on and so today I slipped on her peach dress, with the matching narrow belt and pumps. She was right, I do like how it feels, the soft material against my smooth legs. Even after her passing my wife maintains her unblemished streak of being right. And good. And caring.

And loving me unreservedly.

I’ve spent six months mourning her, for her absence, and for my unwillingness to share myself with her fully, at least, not until she was almost gone. It was shortly after she had been moved to hospice care, having finally given up on any further experimental treatment plans. There was a beautiful private garden where patients could sit, feeling the warm sun against their pale skin as they found whatever pleasures remained in the time they’d been granted.

“Please promise me you won't spend the rest of your life alone,” she had started.

“Tell me you'll try to find another woman after I'm gone. Keep me in your heart. But leave room for someone new if she comes along. I know your natural state is solitude, Danny, and neither of us have any family left and your closest friends don't live nearby. Please try to find someone. Don't spend your life alone."

I paused and looked in her eyes. There was something there that told me I should speak candidly now, and so I did.

“Honey I can’t really think about that right now. But I do have to tell you something and I hope you can just let me speak until I’m done.”

“What is it darling?”

“From a very young age I have always been confused about myself. My identity. My earliest memory is of my father bathing me. I tucked my penis between my legs and told him I looked like Mommy. Let’s just say I never did that again, not with anyone else around.

When I was seven or eight I was shopping with my mother and I went to the magazine section of the grocery store. There was a Playgirl in easy reach and I didn’t even know what it was but I was drawn to it and pulled it out and leafed thru it, lingering over the male centerfold. My mother saw it then and snatched it out of my hands.

When puberty came, I found porn, both online and in print. I always placed myself in the girl’s skin when I fantasized and masturbated. I looked for hetero stories told in the first-person female. And I avoided Point-of-View videos since they almost always were from the view of the man.

That wasn’t the view I wanted.

And I was especially drawn to depictions of woman on man oral sex, to the point of obsession. With no siblings and a working mom, the house was always empty when I got home from school, and I’d slip on my mother’s bra or her bikini top, smear on her lipstick and fellate the most phallic-like banana in the house.

Then, when I was 15 my parents sat me down and told me something I never knew, but maybe I had known all along. They told me I had a fraternal twin sister, who was going to be named Danielle, who was stillborn.

And it all clicked in my mind. I thought, this is why I have these feelings. Daniel wasn’t supposed to live, it was supposed to be Dani. Or maybe Dani’s soul transferred into my body when she died? Now I knew …

Why I wanted to be able to pretend my penis wasn’t there.
Why my voice didn’t change that much and is hardly deeper than my Mother’s was, and nothing like my Father’s basso profundo.
Why I stayed closer to my Mother’s height. All the men on both sides of my family were at least six feet tall. Yet I stopped growing at 5’7”.
Why I screamed and cried until my parents allowed me to grow my hair as long as I wanted.
Why I never wanted muscles. Or cared about sports.
Why my feelings are always so close to the surface, and nothing my father said or threatened would ever change that. I cry when I want to, easily and often. And over the silliest things.

“It was your sweet sensitive nature that drew me to you, Danny.”

I smiled at her interruption, then I repeated my name.

“Danny. I never wanted to be Dan or Daniel because I always heard my name as “Dani” with one N and an I at the end.”

I stopped speaking and accepted a tissue from Jamie to dab at my eyes. Her eyes were soft and loving.
"For someone who always believed he is a woman attracted to men, you did a pretty great impersonation of a man attracted to women. What made you pursue me?"

“Testosterone is an incredibly powerful thing, Jamie. It makes you want what it wants, and what it wanted was girls. Gay sex was out – the thought of it makes me nauseous.”

And most importantly, I loved you from the moment I met you. I know I implied something else, back when we started dating, but you’re the only woman I have ever been with. The only person, period.”

“You are such a sweet sensitive lover I wanted another woman to experience that.”

“Well, when you watch pretty, passionate, woman-centric porn you’re going to pick up on the things women like. And thinking about what you were feeling probably helped with staying power.”

Like when I gave you head. I loved how your fingers would wrap around mine, until your climax started and you’d jerk your hands away and your body thrashed around so. How sensitive you were afterwards. I’d think, that’s what Dani should be feeling. That your orgasms always seemed so much bigger than mine, and that if I were Dani, that’s what I’d experience.

Or when you gave me head. I also wondered how you felt, so intimately connected to me. What were you thinking?”

“I was mostly thinking, ‘how long do I have to do this before we can move on to the fucking?’”
She said laughingly.

“No, I’m kidding. I love that part of being a woman. So intimate. It always got me as hot and bothered as it did you.”

“That’s how I’ve felt too … that if I were a girl or really could just live as one, I’d be happy if I just found a man who accepted me and was happy with just oral sex.”

“You know, Dani-with-an-I, I sort of had an inkling that you might have a secret you had never shared.”

“Oh?”

“It happened right before my last hospital admission. I had to go on your computer and the auto-fill in your web history filled in a site that sold bras and panties designed to fit men. I didn’t think too much about it, I just figured you’d followed a link somewhere on a lark.”

“Damn auto-fill,” I said, and laughed. “I never ordered anything.”

She laughed and said “You have my permission to buy anything you want. But I really think you should consider padded panties, to fill you out like a girl.”

“I was sure if I ever told you the truth you’d cut off my testicles without aid of anesthesia. That might have helped solve my problem but if I ever take that step, I’d rather have it happen in a sterile surgical suite.”

“Oh, my dear sweet husband. I can’t imagine the pain you’ve felt, estranged from your own body for all these years. I just wish you had told me before I got sick.”

I looked at her quizzically.

“If the Big C hadn’t interfered, I could have helped you explore and experience life as a woman. Helped you with make up and clothes. Maybe pleasuring each other as girls. Or going out as two girlfriends and bringing two men home. Then you’d really satisfy your desires.”

It was then that my emotions gushed forth in great heaving sobs. At the release of all the stress I’ve felt and at the realization that my wife truly loved me without reservation, and that I was a bastard for never trusting our relationship enough to tell her the truth and now that I had told her, this damn cancer was taking her away from me.

We cried together until we were both cried out, and then she spoke.

“I think you’ll make a pretty girl. You already have androgynous looks. Not a muscular build or prominent Adam’s apple. In fact, we’ve already seen how you look with make-up and my peach dress. Remember that bet you lost a few years ago, when you had to dress up as a woman for Halloween? Wait a minute, you wanted to lose that wager, didn’t you?”

I smiled sheepishly at the memory, A co-worker had made some bet about sports and he was such a loud mouth I didn’t know what I was doing but he took the Cowboys and gave the points and they had still covered, whatever that meant. What I knew was that he thought from my talk at work that I was some sort of transphobe, so the loser had to dress as a woman for the office Halloween party.

“The problem was I had to pretend to be uncomfortable and unhappy. And I couldn’t exactly try to act like a girl.”

“Well I think peach is going to be a good color on you, especially in the summer when you’re tan. Dani-with-an I, I’d like to revise and extend my previous comments.”

My wife, politician until the end, I thought.

She cupped my cheeks and held my gaze.

“Darling, I want you to find yourself, and be happy.”

Afterwards, she kept calling me “Dani-with-an-I” until I told her it was all right, she could just call me Dani, that the “I” was implied. “Find your happiness” were the last words she said. I never left her side until she passed, June 5th, 2017. Jamie Huntington was 35, and her husband, Dani, née Danny Huntington was about to turn 32. We had been together eight years six months and eighteen days.

Cancer really and truly sucks.

January 6 2018

Today I arranged a Tinder date. I was going to finally do that thing I’d been thinking about since I was 13 or 14, or maybe even longer. I’d swiped right a number of times but my profile photo must not have appealed to many. But some were interested still, after I explained what I was looking for.

I had a young man set to come over in an hour and I busied myself getting ready. First, I put on the first bra and panty set from the company selling such undergarments to men. I liked them but not as much as I hoped. The flatness of the fit against my chest distracted from the feminine nature of the material and the bra itself. It made me think of those boy panties. Why would a girl want panties that looked like tighty whities? What was the purpose of a bra that fell flat against a man’s chest?
I could appreciate the fit of the panty however. I’d never pass wearing those, but a “skosh more room” certainly came in handy, like the old commercials for relaxed fit jeans.

I used my wife’s make up as best I could, with foundation, blush, eye shadow and most importantly, liberal amounts of lipstick. I dabbed her perfume behind my ears, slipped on her clip-on shell earrings, and put on her negligee before walking out to the living room to wait.

Unfortunately, my date was late, and as I sat on the couch, my excitement turned to worry, and then fear. My mind went in directions I didn’t want to go, but couldn’t help:

What if he laughs at me?
What if he has an STD?
What if he wants to reciprocate?
What if he is too strong to fight off, and wants to take me in my ass?
What if he brings friends? I might fight off one but not more than that.

I tried to calm myself but I could not, and I dashed around the house turning lights off. Within a minute I saw lights turn on the driveway. I lay down on the couch, out of sight, as he approached the front door and knocked.

What was wrong with me? A man who said he would let me suck his cock was standing outside, and I was frozen in place. My phone started to buzz. I was sure he could hear it but I didn’t move. When the lights went back down the driveway and pulled away, I read the text messages.

Hey sorry I’m late. Are you there?
I hear the phone in there. You a fucking cock tease?
Don’t ever swipe me again, you cocksucking faggot!

I'm not a faggot cocksucker. I said aloud, as tears trailed down my cheeks.

I'm a woman. A straight woman who doesn’t quite look like one, who used to put on lipstick and his mother's bikini top while fellating bananas before graduating to silky bras, garter belts and hose, and long dildos attached to mirrors, the better to watch myself watch the imaginary man in my head whose cock I was so eagerly and passionately sucking.

Be myself, Jamie had said. OK but how? I cursed God for taking her away from me, and I went to bed, softly crying into the pillow. I felt alone, and even with the furnace going full blast, I felt very, very cold.

January 7 2018

Today, I discovered sinthetics.com, and with it, a new plan.

It’s amazing what you can find, along with malware, when you click on “things you might enjoy”. In this case I didn’t start with sinthetics.com. It started on the website Vice, with a video report by a woman about sinthetics.com. The headline said “The World’s First Hyper-Realistic Male Sex Doll is Really Something.”

The video certainly showed why.

I watched it over and over again. It started with a view of two people in bed, soft focus, with the woman stroking her man’s arm, his toes moved independently as she moved her own against his. Then we see her head on his chest, their fingers curled around each other. With each squeeze of her hand her lover’s body moved as if it were a person. Only at the end, when his handsome face and piercing blue eyes came into focus, could you tell it was a doll she lay with.

There were sections on the manufacturing process, and the fact that male doll orders now equal female doll orders for this small company. How “Pleasure Trails” are a popular choice for the purchasers of male dolls. It wasn’t hard to figure out this was the male equivalent of ‘landing strips’.

There was a long segment on the manufacturing of the penis, and the exacting effort to duplicate the scrotum and floating testicle inside, and the nearly endless customization options.

At the very end of the video, the woman was introduced to her own completed doll. She stood beside him, her hand cupping his flaccid penis, and spoke of how he was so indistinguishable from a real man, it was ‘creepy.’ That it was like being next to a living person, only a person incapable of independent movement or speech. I thought, like an ALS sufferer who had only lost the ability to speak and move, and none of their youthful form or function.

The last frames showed her, in a non-pornographic way, having sex with her new toy, holding his hands against her breasts, her lips in a wide grin, telling her audience that other than being in total control, she could not possibly tell the difference between this man and any other she’d had.

Here was a man who would not demand anything more than I gave him. Who wouldn’t laugh at me, let alone physically harm me or spread any disease. My wife had been right: my natural state is one of solitude. I could become a woman for a man like this.

I was sold.

I went to the website and clicked on the male doll options. One especially caught my eye. His name was Lazarus, and he had chiseled facial features. I chose cream complexion with multi-tone skin finish for maximum realism. Wavy black hair to his ears, with blue grey eyes. Clean shaven, and no piercings, tats or body markings. Light body hair, dark.

For his body type I chose customization, for a taller man with broader shoulders and thicker chest muscles than the standard, skinnier model options. When finished he would be 5’10” and weigh 170 lbs.

Manscaped, with pleasure trail down to his seven-inch circumcised, upgraded erect cock (upgraded to dual density silicone for greater realism), with flaccid cock to match. I liked the idea of 7” long manhood, because I remembered the last dildo I owned was six inches. Lazarus would be a little bit more and I liked that there would be more of him to explore.

Finally, I chose “Casual Wear” for his shipping clothes.

When the design was done, I could see Lazarus with all options, clothed and unclothed. He looked like a northeastern preppy, I thought, and was very pleased with my selections.

I became curious about the derivation of Lazarus so I opened a new tab to google it. In Hebrew the parts break down to “God” and “help” or “whom God Helps”. I knew then I was doing the right thing – I need God’s help to find my happiness, and God – thru Lazarus – was going to help me.

I clicked submit and took care of the payment. The cost - almost $15,000 - was of no concern, since Jamie’s life insurance had paid out $750,000, and between her inheritance from her Mom when she died, and mine from my Father when he passed, I had no financial worries at all.

The six-month build time was also fine with me. There was much to do to become Dani.

June 5 2018

Today is one year to the day since my wonderful, supportive wife Jamie passed but I am actually excited instead of sad. That’s because I have a text message update from FedEx. Lazarus is “out for delivery by 8 pm.” Funny what an extra thousand dollars does with a pending order with an extremely customer-oriented business. I asked them to make a particular date for delivery, and they did, and FedEx is coming thru too.
A year to the day, just as my wife encouraged, I was going to start to “find my happiness.”

I called out, “Alexa, do I sound like a woman?” and I smiled at her response, just as I had when Siri first started answering in the affirmative. The website had said that vocal feminization exercises would take at least three months but with so much time to practice, I’d “graduated” even sooner. Now, my voice felt comfortable, assured, natural.

A few weeks after I had Siri and Alexa’s approval, I had started making my late-night trips to Walmart dressed as Dani, eventually going from the self-service check out to the manned check out lines. My nerves slowly melted away and as I felt my confidence build, I thought I got catcalled once or twice. I didn’t dare turn around though. I didn’t want to know the caliber of Walmart shopper that catcalled women at 4 am.

I stepped into the bathroom. Electrolysis had taken care of all the male-pattern hair I used to have, but I had done nothing with my legs, as I always wanted to take on that most feminine of tasks, keeping my legs smooth myself. I stepped into the shower, applied the lotion, and slowly and carefully ran the razor over my skin, then rinsed and dried my legs.

Next, I spread moisturizer on my smooth legs, then all over the rest of my skin. It was amazing the effect this regimen had, making my skin glow with a delightful softness.

I stepped into the closet, now filled with a mixture of my wife’s clothes and the many outfits I’d found online. I turned toward the tiny area occupied by my old, male clothes. I pulled on a pair of jeans over an old pair of boxer briefs and picked a purple striped polo shirt to match. It was the last shirt my wife ever purchased for me. It seemed right.

“Ironic, isn’t it that you are starting the first day finding your happiness wearing men’s clothes, Dani-with-an-I?” I asked my reflection.

I sat down to fix my lunch and wait for FedEx, and then I had an “Oh shit” moment. Lazarus was going to arrive any moment, all 170 pounds of him. I quickly searched for a medical supply house on my phone. An offer of an extra $500 got me a promise that the wheelchair would arrive within the hour. It did.

Time passed and I grew anxious at how long FedEx was taking. At 7 pm I was cleaning up my dinner when the doorbell finally rang. I greeted the deliveryman and signed, wondering if he noticed the length of my nails or the high gloss pink beds and white tips.

Lazarus wore jeans shorts and the t-shirt I had shipped to Sinthetics, a vintage wrestling t-shirt from the 90s that my Father had owned.

I was about thirteen when Degeneration X was so popular, and my father didn't like me watching his wrasslin' shows with so much sexy entertainment. But it wasn't the lingerie matches or the hand-print bikini tops that caught my attention. It was sexy wrestlers like the Heartbreak Kid, Sean Michaels, who I paid attention to. “I got two words for ya” was on the front of the gold t-shirt, and the reflexive crowd response was what I planned to be doing soon.

The matching polo shirt I’d paid for was in a sealed bag inside the box. By the bulge in his shorts, I knew they had shipped him with the erect cock in place, just as I had requested.

Curiosity demanded that I open up the box that held the flaccid cock. I marveled at the way it felt. Unlike the woman in the video, I’d only ever touched my own, but it felt truly indistinguishable.

Giggling now, I pulled him out of the box and onto the wheelchair, then moved him into a seated position on the couch. Then I looked Lazarus over. He was a work of art. As handsome as I had thought when I first looked at the preview photo on the website, and yes, so lifelike it did feel creepy, like there was a man trapped inside this immobile but totally life-like body.

Finally, I spoke.

“Hi Lazarus, I’m Daniel. I hope you don’t mind but Dani isn’t quite ready for you. Let me go see how she is doing.” I left him in the living room, the TV on for company, and slipped out to my bedroom.

My male clothes came off quickly, as well as the cord that held my pony tail in place. I quickly brushed out my hair a bit while seated at what was once my wife’s vanity, hers and my own makeup spread in front of me. With so much time to practice, it wasn’t long before I had achieved a perfect evening look for my date, with smoky blue eye shadow and the lipstick that I had loved for so long.

I didn’t care that Lazarus was dressed so casually, I wanted to look my best for him. I slipped on the padded panties that made me a size 8 and pulled the garter belt on over them. I carefully slipped the delicate hose over my manicured and painted toe nails and slid them up my legs and secured them to the garters.

Next came my 36C breast forms, best I could find, secured to my chest by the spray adhesive. Finally, I slipped on the matching bra, just the way I had watched my mother many years ago. I slipped the straps over my shoulders, then bent a little, admiring how the silicone swayed below me, before capturing them in the cups and securing the clip behind my back. My hands slipped inside each cup, settling the girls in place, just as I had watched Mom and Jamie do so many times.

I pulled out the peach dress, a wrap-around design much like the one my wife had helped me into for that Halloween party years ago. But I didn’t need her help anymore, I had become quite expert at the ins and outs of women’s clothes. I stepped into the matching pump and finally turned my attention back to my hair.

As I began to brush it out, I wondered why I had questioned whether women’s shampoo really could do what they claimed in their advertisements. My brown hair had turned thick, lustrous and shiny with the regular benefit of Jamie’s brand. It fell to mid-back, and I arranged it to fall half in front and half in back.

I admired my reflection in the mirror, the modest décolletage the dress revealed, and the way my legs flashed underneath the hem of the dress when I swished my hips.

“Are you ready Dani? Your man awaits.”

I walked into the living room and saw Lazarus as if it was the first time.

“Hello, I’m Dani. It’s nice to meet you, Lazarus.”

I took his hand off his legs and shook it gently.

“Is it OK if I sit here?”

I sat, crossing my legs and adjusting the dress so that the top of my stockings were visible.

“I like your shirt. You know, Sean Michaels was the original boy toy of wrestling. Will you be my boy toy? You’re very cute …”

My hand had fallen into his lap, on his inner thigh, and I threw my arm around his neck and kissed his lips, slipping my lower lip between his, and dragging my upper lip over his upper lip, just as my wife used to kiss me. I didn’t care that his eyes stayed open or he didn’t respond, I was lost in the feeling of being close to a man, a hunk, and I began to explore his face and neck and ears. The spritz of cologne I had requested still lingered on him, making the experience even more real.

My right hand was moving over his crotch now, touching his stiff cock, stroking it lightly thru the material.

“Hmmm, you’re getting turned on too aren’t you Lazarus? Let me see how you like a little more of me.”

I stood up, and stepped away from the couch, running my hands thru my hair before I started a little dance I had practiced for this moment. I grabbed the sides of the dress and swished them forward and back, hiking it up a little to show my legs, then I turned around and let my hips sway before stopping, my feet together, then I did an elaborate hip swivel down to the floor, then back up again, ending bent at the waist, my butt wiggling in the air.

I strutted back towards Lazarus, this time working at the ties that kept my dress on, until it was loose enough to slip over my shoulder, showing my bra strap, and turning away from him, I dropped the material off my shoulders and down to my garter.

I turned again, stepped out of the dress, and kept one arm across my chest, and one demurely covering my crotch, as I strutted back to him.

My arm fell away from my chest.

“I’m sure you’ll like these.”

My other arm went to the hip that was created by the padding of my panty and revealed what else was inside.

“And I hope you don’t mind this.”

My arms went over his shoulders and I sat in his lap.

“I’m glad you like everything you see, Lazarus.”

I leaned forward, offering my breasts to him, before I began to work at his t-shirt, lifting it up and thru each arm in turn. I looked at the front.
“Are those two words “suck it!?”

I slipped off him then, and beginning at his neck, I kissed and explored down toward his broad chest, kissing and teasing his nipples before I drifted lower, to his pleasure trail, where my fingers tugged at his belt until the shorts were partially undone, and I could finally reach in and touch his cock under his boxer briefs. I turned and smiled at him, then reached for the third cushion on the couch and placed it on the floor below him. I kicked off my shoes before I knelt.

Seated now, I tugged his jean shorts off, and when his boxers moved with them, I lifted them back into place. I pulled the material tight against the shaft, my thumb and forefinger at each end.

“Very nice Lazarus.”

I kissed his manhood thru the material but I could wait no longer, and my hands slipped around his ass, yanking the underwear off him. His cock shifted from sideways to gloriously erect, and I brought my face alongside and smiled again.

“Very very nice, Lazarus.”

I licked from the root to the tip, luxuriating in the sense that this was virtually a real cock, and then I swirled my tongue around the head before sliding my lips up and down the shaft, as far as I could go,

It was then I realized what “medical grade silicone” meant. It meant no odd chemical taste. The texture was exactly what I imagined, and the taste was neutral, meaning that I’d never have to cut short a blow job the way the chemical taste of other dildos had cause me to in the past.

I moved away from the shaft, eager to find out how his sac felt. It was remarkable. Inside a thin gel, marble sized balls floated. I eagerly tongue bathed and gently sucked each sac, mixed in with soft kisses in his inner thighs, and gliding my hands up and down the shaft.

I glanced down at my panties and realized how excited I was, and then it came to me.

“You’re making my pussy wet Lazarus.”

I slipped the top of the panty down and brought my clitty up to the head of his cock. It glistened like never before, and a quick rub transferred my pre-cum to his cock head. Lazarus had gone from no-taste to all-taste. It was wonderful, salty and manly, proof that I was a good girl friend, turning her man on with her body, her hands, her lips and her tongue.

I became crazed with lust then and used all of the moves and motions I’d seen and emulated before, pausing only to transfer more pre-cum. I began to moan around his cock, and in my delirium, I wanted to feel even closer to him, so my hand held his by the wrist, and moved it to the back of my head, pulling it toward him as if he was taking over my mouth now, fucking it the way he wanted, as his climax built.

This sent me over the edge and I leaned back and using the latest bit of pre-cum for lubrication, I climaxed in the strongest most mind-blowing orgasm of my life. My eyes shut and the colors I saw were bright and intense.

But I wasn’t finished. I couldn’t be finished. When my vision cleared, I saw how much cum had hit his stomach, and groin, his close-trimmed manscape, and his cock and balls. I immediately went about tasting his essence. I licked and slurped and scooped his cum into my mouth, loving every bit.

When I was done I smiled at him, and kissed the head of his cock, and crawled back onto the couch, curled up against my man.

“Your cum tastes yummy, babe.”

When my head fell on his shoulder I glanced down and realized that in my eagerness to slurp up his cum I had smeared it into my own breasts and bra. I was quite the mess, and one happy girl.

We sat there for a while before I spoke.

“C’mon babe let’s go to bed.”

I pivoted him back onto the wheelchair and wheeled him into the bedroom. I pulled him over the end of the bed and dragged him up to his pillow, turning him sideways. I slipped the erect cock off of him, cleaned it and slipped the flaccid one on in its place. The erect one I put behind his knee.

I changed into new padded panties, and my “night time” silicone breasts with pocket bra. Then I crawled into bed beside him, his body an S, my butt nestled against his soft, spent, cock. I pulled his left arm over me like a warm blanket, and fell asleep almost instantly, his hand around my waist, covering one hand while my other hand rested on his.

June 6 2018

I awoke with Lazarus’ hand on my butt. My own hands were where they were before but I figured I must have moved it in the night. Any way I slept like a baby, nestled alongside my boyfriend, a welcome change from the tossing and turning that had plagued me, before I met Jamie, and then after she died.

“Hmmm,” I said, placing my hand over his. “Did you sleep well baby? What would you like to do today?”

I turned over, moving Lazarus on his back. My hand went over his right shoulder, and my head nestled into his chest. His eyes were open, his stare vacant, his lips in the same flat expression. In the natural light, I looked down his chest and marveled again at how real he seemed. I hadn’t spent any time last night really exploring his body but now I did, touching and stroking his arm, chest, belly and legs. His skin was malleable but snapped into position in the same taut way my own skin did. I draped my leg over his and dragged my toe nail gently against his ankle.

From head to toe he felt like a man, and then my hand touched his flaccid, squishy and stretchy yet somehow firm manhood.

“I know what I’d like to do.”

I said teasingly, as I began to again kiss and lick and explore my way to his cock. I squeezed and pulled at his cock, only missing the sensation of feeling it grow and change in my hand, but I reached toward his thigh, confirmed the presence of the erect cock, and while I kissed and teased and stimulated his nipple, I reached for and expertly slipped the erect cock into place.

I resumed stroking him, spitting into my hand now for lube, and moved back toward his upper chest, neck, ears and cheeks with soft kisses and contented sighs.

I remembered a particularly erotically-charged position I’d fantasized about before, and I stopped long enough to move Lazarus so that his hands held the top of the headboard, and his legs balanced on his toes. I slid in from behind him, flat on the bed, his cock dangling down toward my hungry lips. I loved this position for the feeling of submission, for having no view of anything but his cock and balls and his powerful legs and abs.

The fact that I could take him into his mouth while holding and squeezing his ass, and rub my breasts against him, only made it more thrilling than I’d even imagined.

When I pulled his ass a little harder, he started rocking on his toes, giving the feeling of him actually fucking my lips. After a few minutes of this I couldn’t handle it any longer and I stopped, slipped my panties off, and came very quickly like last night, and just as powerfully.

I slapped his thigh and said “OK, honey, time for breakfast. You must be famished. I know I am.”

Lazarus sat in his boxer briefs in the kitchen in his wheelchair, while I made my usual eggs and toast, wearing my nightgown. When they were ready, I divided the meal onto two plates, and with Lazarus on my left, I slipped my hand under his as I ate.

“You’re a lefty, right honey? Or are you not very hungry?”

I moved his eggs onto my plate and finished the meal. After I did the dishes I announced it was time for a shower.

“Care to join me?”

I moved Lazarus into the bathroom and into our oversized shower which had two opposing nozzles. I turned on the spray and stood next to my man, wearing my padded panties and breasts secured by pocket bra. He was naked of course, and I stood next to him, washing him but stopping to kiss him and stroke him. Standing next to a powerful man, a smaller woman tugging at his manhood, was another position I’d fantasized about. It was wonderful experiencing it now, his arm over my shoulder, his muscles glistening in the spray, my hands pulling and tugging. This time I imagined that he’d gotten off with my hand.

We got dressed then, me in peach shorts and t-shirt, breasts glued in place and no bra, and he in the jeans shorts and polo shirt that came with him. He seemed to like the same daytime soaps I did, and whenever the mood struck me I just took his cock out and sucked him. It didn’t matter if I came anymore, the mere act released endorphins as if I had cum, and it felt wonderful being his loving, sexy girlfriend.

As I got us ready for bed, I thought back to the early days with Jamie. How insatiable we were for each other, and how this felt exactly the same. Then it came to me: Jamie’s idea of Naked Day. We didn’t go out and we didn’t wear any clothes. We sat on the couch and watched tv or listened to music and we had sex whenever we wanted. I loved those days.

That night I slept curled into his chest, my shoulders in the crook of his arm, my right hand on his stomach. And I again slept like a baby.

June 7 2018

I awoke completely refreshed, in the exact same position except for one thing. Lazarus’ right hand now covered mine which rested on his stomach. I couldn’t believe I could have reached over and pulled his hand on top of mine but I didn’t think about it too long.

Anyway: Naked Day, with one concession – padded panties.

I think Laz liked it.

June 8 2018

Today, Lazarus came.

Well, at least it seemed that way. I decided to work a bit on the one thing missing – my moans were only half of what I wanted to hear. So, I set about making several audio clips, lifted from the countless saved porn video files. It wasn’t hard to isolate different quality moans, from early expressions of pleasure to full throated male climax sounds. I also clipped out sexy talk like “suck that cock baby” and made sure the files were long but varied.

I left Lazarus in the living room with the TV on for company as I worked on the audio edits. The volume seemed to change and I called to him and asked him to turn it down. When the tv went silent a moment later, I stopped and walked out. The remote sat on the couch but now it was up against his shorts. I figured that his weight on the cushion created enough slope to make it eventually slide up against him, engaging the mute button just as I called to him. I assumed.

Any way it was another wonderful step in our relationship, hearing his moans and hearing him react as I pleasured him.

There was just one thing missing.

June 9 2018

Today, Laz and I came together. And I came as a girl would, with her boyfriend manually stimulating her.

With him on the couch, I’d put his hand against my panty, positioned against the underside of the head, where the nerves would have coalesced into a clit for Dani. A finger vibrator with remote control rested against me.

I turned the MP3 player on and began to have my fun, starting slow before I “released the beast” and began to suck him earnestly and passionately. His moans started up, and I felt the moisture in my panties begin to build. I placed his hand on his cock, so I could move his elbow and manipulate it, while his other hand cupped my cheek. It was as if he was holding his cock for me, offering it and then pulling it away, encouraging me to suck and fondle his balls, before turning the shaft back toward my eager mouth.

I kept this up because I knew what was coming.

“Suck those balls, baby” my lover said and I eagerly complied.

Then he moved the shaft forward again and a moment before my lips enveloped him I heard, “Suck that cock baby. You really love that cock, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I cried out. “Yes, I love your cock Lazarus.”

We continued, a marathon session, until I heard his grunts get shorter and closer together. “I’m gonna cum” filled my ears as I clicked on the vibrator against my clitty, and the vibrations pushed me over the edge as Lazarus came too, hard.

It was perfect, the sound of his orgasm from my mouth and lips and tongue, and me crying out as a girl would, cumming only from the good vibrations I felt.

June 11 2018

Today, after breakfast and a shower, I kissed Lazarus goodbye and headed to my first hair salon appointment. I was dressed in jeans, Lazarus' t-shirt from our first night, and peach colored Keds.

I busied myself waiting for the stylist by studying the photos on the wall of different hair styles, then picking up a woman’s magazine to leaf thru. I wanted a more playful cut, something that brought my hair just over my shoulders, with angled cuts to frame my neck and face.

The stylist was a young woman, maybe early twenties and was eager to chat.

"So, Dani, are you seeing anyone? I swear I can't find a decent man anywhere in this town."

"Actually, I am his name is Lazarus. He's a good guy. He always lets me hold the remote, and he's never complained about my cooking."

"Yeah? Is he big?"

"Not terribly. He's five ten."

"No. I mean is he ... big?"

I giggled then and nodded yes.

"That's important for me. My friends say I'm a size queen but if he ain't packin' it, he ain't hittin' it, and I know you know what I'm sayin'."

I smiled and continued to read the magazine in my lap while she worked on my hair. When she was finished, I beamed at the result.

"Have you ever thought about blonde highlights? We're having a special if you're interested. I think nice blonde highlights would really set off your tan, Dani."

I thought about it and quickly agreed. It was a long process with a lot of sitting and waiting but at the end, when my hair was freshly dried, I absolutely loved the result. My brown hair had a beautiful blonde tinge all over. I felt like a new woman.

When I got home I called to Lazarus, apologizing for being gone most of the day. I told him how I talked him up to the girls and asked him what he thought.

I didn't mind that he stayed silent. I was sure he liked it as much as I did.

June 13, 2018
Today was my birthday, and the UPS man arrived with a package. But I knew it wasn’t for me. I opened the door wearing a crop t-shirt with half-bra underneath, and peach shorts. I thought the girls looked very good, and the cute guy in the brown shorts must have thought so too. He stared a second too long before meeting my eyes and speaking.

"Package for Lazarus, Miss ... Hey you changed your hair. It looks really nice."

"Thank you. Is it Ok if I sign?" I gestured at the back of the couch, which faced the TV on the wall opposite the front door.

"He's fallen asleep. Honey? See - out like a light."

He handed the cursor, and I signed "Dani" with a heart above the "i".

"If I were your boyfriend I wouldn't fall asleep on the couch in the middle of the day," he said as he took back the tracking device.

"Well how do you know I didn't wear him out?"

"It wouldn't matter. I'd be ready for another go-round."

"Well aren't you sweet. Next time though, my eyes are up here, 'K?"

He smiled sheepishly and turned away, and I stood at the door until he turned on the walkway, glanced again from my breasts to my eyes, and waved.

I set the box down on the table and practically floated back to the couch. I sat down next to Lazarus and squeezed his hand.

"Did you hear that? The UPS guy was hitting on me. He likes my new hair too."

That night, after dinner, I decided it was time for a little birthday night out, on my own. I wore a fitted peach dress, sleeveless, with 3-inch strappy heels and clutch purse. I admired how the peach color made my golden tan look even darker, just as Jamie predicted. I kissed Lazarus goodbye and headed to a singles bar I had visited before I met Jamie.

I sat at the bar and was about to place an order with the bartender when I saw three young ladies to my right all turn toward the entry. I followed their eyes and saw a handsome man of about 30, with dark hair and blue eyes. I thought he looked like Lazarus except for the five o'clock shadow that gave his manly features a little extra jolt of testosterone. He looked harried and his tie was loose at the neck. His eyes stayed on me and I glanced away, then turned back toward the bar.

A moment later the bar stool next to me was pulled away and he spoke.

"Hi, come here often? I'm Laz.".

"I'm Dani. Did you say your name is Laz?"

"I know, it's not a very common name."

"No, it's not that, it's just - my boyfriend, well my last boyfriend was named Lazarus. And you kind of look like him, too.”

"Really?"

"Yeah, a lot. I don't think you should talk to me, Laz, if we got together it would just be a rebound sort of thing."

"Well I had a girlfriend named Danielle once too. I assume you're not a crazy chick like her if I can convince you I'm not like that bastard Lazarus. Can I buy you a drink?"

"OK. I was about to order a white wine."

Before he could sit down I said, "Could I just ..." and I reached out, held the knot of the tie and lifted it into place. I patted his chest and he slipped onto his chair.

"I just thought you should either ditch the tie or look right."

"And I look presentable now?"

"Very."

"So, what do you do, Laz?"

"I'm a lawyer."

"Oh. Well maybe if you could write up some sort of liability waiver or contract or something, you know, for the risk we're taking."

He grinned playfully, and reached for the nearest napkin, opened it up, and took out an expensive pen and began to scribble on it.

"Now Miss ..."

"Huntington."

"Yes Miss Huntington. As the party of the second part I'll need you to initial here .... and once more here, and again here, and of course sign and date at the bottom."

"And what does this first clause say?"

"It says, 'I've seen that look before. She'll tear my world apart. I'm workin' on my next broken heart."

I laughed. “Brooks and Dunn," I said. "I propose we delete that clause."

Laz X-ed out the scribbles.

"What's this next clause say?"

"It says "But you won't catch me carving up my love. I ain't no puzzle piece that needs to fit. If it takes more than me, then let's call it quits."

"Elton John," I said, recognizing the lyrics to "I Don't Wanna Go On With You Like That."

"And now I must know what we're initialing on this last one."

" If you want a man who understands. You don't have to look very far."

"John Michael Montgomery. I like your musical taste, Laz. And you're very funny."

"And you're very pretty, Dani."

"Thank you. And thanks for those earworms too! At least I like the John Michael Montgomery song best."

I began to sing under my breath "you dreamed of love that's everlasting ..." and Laz leaned in and whispered the next line, "Well baby open up your eyes. I can love you like that ..."

I started crying, softly. Laz opened his pen and wrote legibly this time: "I promise never to make you cry again" and added his initials.

"Don't make a promise you can't keep Laz. I cry pretty easily."

The bartender leaned in and asked if I was all right. I told him I was fine, and Laz and I continued to chat and laugh, about the weather and the life of a lawyer. Laz' attention stayed fixed on me, until he glanced at the three girls who had watched him at the door.

"I think they are jealous I stopped at your bar stool, Dani."

"I would have been too."

I finished my wine. "I really should go home now, it was very nice meeting you, I had a lovely time. You'll get me a notarized copy of that agreement, won't you?"

Laz didn't pressure me into another drink, he only asked to walk me to my car. He offered his arm and escorted me to the parking lot. When we got to the car, I spoke.

"I'm sorry Laz I should have told you the truth. I haven't broken up with Lazarus but we did have a fight and I turned off my phone and I really should check my messages ..."

I was facing the car now and Laz' left hand gripped my right elbow, and his right hand went over my shoulder, turning me towards him.

HIs kiss was soft and short, and he pulled back, as if to be sure he hadn't crossed a line. When he leaned forward again, my lips parted this time and we kissed passionately, a long simmering exploration of each other's lips, tongues and mouths.

My hands stroked his hair as his hands settled around my waist, holding me close against his firm body. Then his hands dipped down to grip my butt, and I broke off the kiss and stepped backwards. His eyes betrayed nothing but I couldn't risk that he'd figure out I was wearing padded panties.

"Woh, fella," I said. "Not so fast."

I ran my hands along the length of his arms, patting his hands as if to glue them in place at his sides. Then he gave that devil-may-care smile again, and I threw my arms around his head, kissing him passionately. His hands stayed stock still.

Finally, I broke off the kiss and told Laz I had to go home. My purse had fallen to the ground and gotten kicked under the car, So Laz got down underneath and found it, collected what had spilled, and handed it to me. Then he handed me his business card, and said, "If you decide to ditch him give me a call, Dani."

"Thank you for a lovely evening, Laz."

As I drove home I could think of nothing but his smile and his scent, the feeling of his arms around me, and his soft lips. Your first kiss was a real doozy, Dani, I thought to myself. I couldn't wait to get home to Lazarus, to release all the pent-up desire I felt.

When I walked in I saw him seated on the couch, in the flickering light of the TV I'd left on.

"Hi honey I'm home. Sorry I was out so late I had drinks with the girls. You know there was a really cute guy there he made me think of you."

I pulled off Lazarus' shirt, and unbuckled and yanked down his shorts.

I began to suck Lazarus' cock, more passionately than ever, wondering if I'd ever have a chance to suck Laz' cock, wondering why I didn't order the shadow beard option on Lazarus. My eyes were closed tight, when I heard Lazarus moan. I sucked him harder then, until I heard him say, "Suck that fucking cock, baby."

I jumped back away from him. I'd never saved that phrase in the sound files I'd created. And I could see there was no green light glowing on the MP3 player on the short cord around his neck.

I quickly turned on the lights, only to find Lazarus sitting with the same expressionless lips, his hands at his sides, his cock glistening with my saliva.

"What the fuck?" I said aloud. Was it my imagination playing tricks on me? My sexual high of before was deflated, and I suddenly just wanted to go to bed, to sleep on all of the surprising events of the day.

For the first time since he arrived, I slipped under the covers without Lazarus beside me. But sleep would not come. Maybe it was Laz from the bar, or maybe I just couldn't sleep without my man next to me, but at 1 am, I gave up and walked back to into the living room. Lazarus stared blankly, as he always did.

"It was your imagination, Dani," I said. "Nothing but your imagination. Lazarus is a doll. A wonderfully realistic but not-quite-real doll."

I again moved the wheelchair into place, and I pulled him into place on his pillow from the foot of the bed. Wheeling the chair away from the bed, I crawled in next to him, thankful to have his familiar form to curl up against.

"Did I give you blue balls, baby? I'm sorry, let me make it all better."

I reached for his cock but it was somehow neither erect nor flaccid, it was in an in-between state and changing rapidly in my hand. My hand jerked away and I gasped as it grew before my eyes, turning sideways before it rose. The tip glistened.

Lazarus broke the silence. His voice was a low sexy rumble.

"I've had blue balls since the day I met you, Dani. Where were you tonight? Your lipstick was smeared and I could smell someone's cologne on you."

My mind lurched and I blurted out, "I'm sorry baby I just met him at the bar, we flirted a bit but it didn't mean anything. Please forgive me."

Lazarus shifted on his side. Before I could process the sensation of his skin brushing against my nipple, I felt his fingers pressing between my legs.

I gasped and my hand moved toward my panties, where I found not silicone padding but my own hips spreading away from my waist. I was a woman, in regular panties which were rapidly turning slick with desire as her man's hands explored his woman's sex thru the lace material.

"Oh my God" began to escape from my mouth but his lips covered mine, and our tongues danced together, our lips releasing and re-engaging in a never-ending battle that no one loses.

He broke off our kiss to move down my neck, as his fingers slipped inside my panties, and then inside me. A moan slipped from my lips and grew louder as his tongue found my sensitive breast, slipped most of it into his mouth, then let it slide out until he caught and held my nipple, nuzzling it with teeth and then tongue and exciting me even more.

My left hand fell over his head and my right cupped his cheek, as I pulled him away for another passionate kiss. I pushed him back into his pillow and began to kiss and explore his ears and neck, then down his broad chest to each nipple, and on to his six-pack, until my head stopped, parallel to his erection. I could feel warmth radiating from it.

I took him into my mouth then, sliding my lips down the shaft, then back up with an audible 'pop' when I released him.

"You're cock tastes delicious."

"You've said that before."

"Tastes even better now."

I licked the shaft like I was catching dribbles of ice cream from a cone, up one side, then up the other. Then I said in a betty boop voice, "sweet lollipop cock."

I engulfed him then, sliding my lips down and up, down and up, from tip to root, lost in the taste and the friction and the rhythm until I heard Lazarus moan, a deep low rumble of satisfaction, so much more pleasing than the sounds from the MP3 player.

My eyes opened and locked together on his as I playfully kissed the head before slipping lower, lifting his ball sac to my mouth, for soft licks before I engulfed each in turn.

When I returned to the head, his hand covered mine, holding my wrist and pulling me toward my pillow. I sank back as he mounted me, hooking his arms under my knees, pushing my legs forward as his lips covered mine.

Then he moved down toward my breasts, stopping at each one as I leaned forward to kiss his forehead, and soft moans escaped my throat.

When he drifted further down my body, my head sank into the pillow, and my fingers reached for his, squeezing them tightly.

I felt his breath as he nuzzled me from bottom to top, and when his face rose above the flatness between my legs, I saw the glistening proof of how wet I was, from the bridge of his nose to the point of his chin.

He then began exploring me, licking and flittering his tongue, totally in tune with my body and my moans, finding and then concentrating on the spot that made me moan loudest, then exploring other areas before returning to it. Finally waves of pleasure began to build and build and when it crashed over me my hands jerked away from his, and my body rose from the bed, twisting away from his relentless tongue, my arm swatting at his shoulder, I was so sensitive I couldn't handle any more.

I had cum just like Jamie used to, and as my panting slowed, I realized he had moved away. My legs were tightly together, and he my hip and smiled. I swung my leg back around him, both of us rising off the bed for a passionate kiss. I reached for his cock, stroking it between my legs, before I sank back into the pillow. Lazarus placed his thumb against my clit, and with the other hand moved his cock alongside my slit until it caught hold, and I split open for him. I trembled as he slid steadily inside me, until I felt so full I thought I might burst.

Then he started fucking me: Deeply, steadily, relentlessly, perfectly.

Before the waves of pleasure built and crested again, I thought that this is what it means to be taken by a man, for him to take control, to be his possession, but in the best way possible. As his woman.

"I'm cumming on your cock, Lazarus," I cried, and he drove himself in and out of me harder then, sending me screaming into another powerful orgasm. When I came down from it he was still fucking me, until he slipped out, and I bent at my waist, mouth open, leaning forward as he stroked himself until cum arced out of his cock over and over and over again, great white streaks covering my face and neck and chest. He tasted wonderful, and when he cupped my chin and used his thumb to move his cum toward my mouth, I eagerly accepted it and then sucked on his thumb after, our eyes locked together. Finally, his thumb slipped out of my mouth and we kissed, tenderly.

He lifted himself off of me and I turned on my side so he could spoon up against me. His strong arm fell across my waist, and his pinky slipped into the fold of skin where my leg ended and my mound began. I exhaled contentedly and shifted against him, pressing my ass into him, feeling his wet, flaccid cock against my ass, wanting to feel our bodies as closely together as possible, his warm skin against my own, his breath against my neck. I moved his hand toward my tummy and squeezed the top.

My head turned toward his, and he spoke.

"I love you Dani."

"I love you too my Lazarus. You've made me truly happy."

"Hmmm" he said. "Naked Day tomorrow?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "Naked week!"

June 14 2018

I awoke at 5 o'clock, startled to realize that Lazarus lay flat next to me. I guessed he was like Jamie, who would snuggle into me, then shift when she got too warm, then move closer again later. At least he doesn't snore, I thought, as I turned on my side in the darkness and snuggled into his chest. My hand came down over his heart, and I realized something was wrong.

His chest wasn't moving, and his eyes were open, once again staring blankly.

Had it all been a dream? I was heartbroken and terrified, and I began to cry in the dark. My hands went to my breasts, which were as soft as before, and my nipples stiffened at my soft pinch. My hands drifted down my body, to my waist and hips, and then to the triangle of soft pubes I'd dreamed of for so long.

I began sobbing then, happy for myself but sad over Lazarus. There were so many questions I had that could never be answered now.

Eventually I dozed off again and awoke at 10 am. I slipped my robe on and worked Lazarus into place on his wheelchair. I rolled him into the garage where I had left his shipping box and carefully set him inside. I kissed my finger, and then touched his lips before I covered him with the Styrofoam and closed the lid.

There was a car idling outside and when I stepped back into the kitchen, there was a knock on the door. I pulled my robe tight against myself and answered the door. Laz stood in front of me. He was clean shaven now, and the similarity to Lazarus was even more obvious.

"Laz. I've been thinking about you."

"After you drove off I found your driver's license near where your purse had fallen and I didn't want you to drive without a license so I came over first thing and ... Dani, I couldn't sleep last night, thinking about you. Is he here?"

"No, Laz I broke up with him. I couldn't stop thinking about you either."

I reached for his hand and pulled him inside as our lips melted together. I broke off the kiss to push the door closed and stepped towards him. His hands fell to my hips, and with one hand on his shoulder I tugged at the sash of my robe with the other. As the sides slipped apart, I stepped away, twirling out of the soft material. I smiled as I faced him, and he gave me that same sexy mischievous grin from the night before. He dropped the robe as I spoke.

"Have you ever heard of Naked Days, Laz?"