I claw my eyes, I skin my face, beg somehow to be replaced. That’s how we deal with boys like me.

Cassie cackled wildly as she planted a pole to sharply arch around a mogul field. Bob was a bit behind, but keeping up admirably. His renewed physique was serving him well out here.

Cassie herself would never have even attempted a fast piste like this a week ago. Her own new… gift? Transformation? Whatever it was it made skiing a heavily moguled double diamond almost trivial. She was enjoying it, wind in her hair, the chill on her cheeks, somehow muted, the trees racing by in her peripheral vision… she hadn’t had this much fun in years. And she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that Bob’s physique played a part in that.

The downhill run angled through trees and alternated between steep sixty degree grades and gentle slopes, making the already immensely long trail seem even longer. When the bottom of the mountain finally came into sight after the over a mile long trail, Bob was still nipping at her heels, and she just found herself laughing at him. That was when he surprised her.

While he may have been on the bulky side, there were no two ways about it. Bob was short. As they pulled into the final hill, he tucked himself down to eliminate wind resistance and shot past her at a straight run, curving into a hockey stop at the very bottom of the hill that kicked up a wave of powder. That gave Cassie an idea.

Lowering into a crouch, she picked up speed, aiming herself right at him. He had yet to notice as she sped toward him, and just as she was about to plow right into him, she curved into a skid stop mirroring his. And kicking up her own wave of powder right on top of him.

They spent hours on the slopes. Not talking, but not really needing to, sharing the experience without the awkwardness of words. Neither of them were shy or afraid to speak their minds, but the reality or rather sureality of the situation that they’d found themselves in meant that things had changed. Had to change. Cassie wasn’t ready to bring up the elephant in the living room, and neither, it seemed, was Bob, so they just enjoyed what they could of the day, not willing to explore the ludicrous idea that they would probably end up in a sexual relationship by the end of this.

As the day wore on, though, she found herself questioning just how ludicrous it actually was. Working as closely as they did day to day it was impossible to just dismiss the idea.

When you spend more time with your coworkers than you do your family and loved ones a tight bond forms. It can be like the one siblings share, or even like the ones that are found in romantic relationships. The terms ‘work wife’ and ‘work husband’ are far more true than most people realize. Just like in the more common roles a partnership forms, and while it is possible for those partnerships to remain truly platonic over extended periods of time, it would be unnatural to not consider someone you maintain such close contact with as a potential mate.

Cassie had previously dismissed the possibility, if only subconsciously. Yes there was chemistry, and it’s true that most of our erogenous zones exist between our ears, but there’s something to be said about physical attraction. Pre-transformation Bob, while he had good features, had been trending toward dumpy. New Bob on the other hand was, while not quite an Adonis, much more pleasing to the eye. This had not escaped her attention.

At about four PM they had gone their separate ways to freshen up. Cassie had quickly showered and redressed, applying her makeup skillfully but with a little haste, and found her way to Bob’s suite.

In the surprisingly well appointed kitchen, the ingredients were already laid out. Whatever magic it was that had given her the unnatural grace she had displayed on the slopes had also apparently read her mind and done all of the prep work for her, something she had been counting on. She had just tied on the apron and was heating olive oil when Bob came out of the bedroom.

Had he always been so handsome or was this just the attraction that always comes after an adrenaline spike? Or the magic? It really didn’t matter, she supposed. His green eyes flashed with excitement as he took in the tableau, his experience telling him what those ingredients would add up to. “We’re cooking?”

“I know, right? We do this for a living, and now when we can do literally anything we want, this is the activity I pick.” She winked. “But how often do we get to cook what we want? Now get an apron on and get the bread in the oven.”

“Yes boss!” Bob has a way of making that phrase sound like ‘Fuck off and die’ but this time it sounds more like he’s flirting as he hops to obey. Cassie blushes at the thought but masks it by tossing the lardons into the Dutch oven.

They quickly and easily fell into the familiar and easy patter and pattern of working in the kitchen together. Discussion ranged from television to books to video games. Finally the coq au vin was ready and they sat down with it and steaming fresh French bread at a table which someone or thing had set up with candles, plates, and wine glasses.

The easy conversation continues through the meal. They both relish the classic French dish, served with the same rich Burgundy pinot noir that they had used in its preparation. “Can you imagine what Bernadette would say about this?”

“I’m sure there would be a long litany crossing over how sinful **** is while at the same time telling us that she could do better and we should let her into the kitchen. And how dare we feed this kind of thing to old Swedish people?”

They both laughed at this, another thing they shared. Cassie looked at him, candlelit and smiling, his cheeks wind burnt and further reddened by the wine and she could couldn’t help but smile. Sure, he was almost twenty years older than her, but if she had met him before Ray…

Her thoughts were interrupted by him. “What’s on your mind, Cass?”

If you only knew…

She was worried about the next part of the night. Frightened, embarrassed but very excited… “I was thinking that we need to change clothes again.”

When Cassie arrived at the hot tub that was just a couple steps down off of Bob’s balcony he was already sitting in it, submerged to his neck. She carried with her a couple of dark beers, Blue Moon Vanilla Porter, which she had found after changing into her bathing suit, perfectly chilled to cellar temperature. She was thankful for the beer, and had imbibed a fair bit more wine at dinner than Bob had. Liquid courage would make what she had planned easier.

She slid into the hot tub, the chill air causing steam to rise from the bubbling water, and reached across to hand one of the beers to Bob. For a moment their fingers touched. Maybe it was just that she was pent up, maybe the wine, maybe his new, impressive body, but even that touch made shivers run down her spine. She played it off and sat down opposite him, feeling the instant relief that hot water brings to sore muscles.

“I… I had fun today, Bob.”

“Me too.” He raises his beer to her, tapping its neck to her bottle. “Who’s like us?”

Cassie automatically responds with the classic reply. “Damn few, and they’re all dead.”

They sit for a while in silence sipping their beers and staring up at stars that don’t quite match the ones they’d be seeing back home. It’s Bob who breaks the silence. “Quarter for your thoughts?”

Why hasn’t he made a pass at me yet? Is there something wrong with me? Do I need to be the aggressor? I need to give a smart enigmatic answer.

“Do you think I’m too fat?”

Great. Now I sound insecure and needy. Why isn’t he answering? Why is he looking at me? What is he thinking? What…

“Stand up for a second.” Bob’s tone was totally calm. Cassie was thankful for the hot water because it hit the flop sweat she was currently breaking out in as she nervously got to her feet.

“Come here.” There was a warmth in the command, for command it was. She found herself gingerly moving toward him. For all the unnatural grace her body currently possessed, she was ashamed and embarrassed by her appearance. The black one piece did have a slimming effect, but her belly was quite visible.

“Have I ever told you about my ex wife?” A strange thing to bring up at this moment, but still she inched closer. “She was a massive cunt, but I was in love with her body.”

He stood up and closed the distance between them. She towered over him, a full five inches taller, but somehow he seemed larger than life at that moment, his broad shoulders set even further apart than hers, and in an instant he had his big hand around her wrist. “She was three inches shorter than me, but her thighs were bigger than mine and she probably outweighed me by fifty pounds.” He pulled on her wrist, drawing her into his arms, and began to run his palms over her back. “I’ve always liked big girls.”

And no more needed to be said with words, as he put one hand on the back of her neck, entwining his fingers in her black waves, and pulling her face down to meet his. There he gave her his true answer as their lips met.

It had been a long time since anyone had kissed her like that. At first Cassie had no idea how to react, critical thinking bypassed by the onslaught of attention, but the jangling of her nerves finally subsided and she melted into the kiss, answering him in turn. Her lips parted and her tongue ventured forth to explore.

They just stood there for several minutes, kissing and sharing affection. His mouth was patient. This wasn’t an ****, didn’t carry any **** or demand. It was just there and present, making his intentions clear as a bell. It was an open invitation for her to do whatever she desired.

What she desired, it turns out, was to be touched by someone who desired her and Bob had made it clear that he did. If his actions hadn’t told her that much, his growing erection would have given it away, pressed as it was against her thigh. When they finally came up for air, she brought it up. “Is that for me?”

And she giggled. She never giggled. She was not a giggler.

Bob’s answer was pretty diplomatic. “If you want it, and however you want it.”

It had been three years. Three years since she’d last known the touch of a man. Ray had tried, bless him, but his heart wasn’t in it and when he finally came out to her she’d resigned herself to a life without because she honestly did love Ray. But now wasn’t the time for that. Now was a time to be selfish, here in this other world where there was no Ray, no job, no responsibility. Where this man obviously wanted her. This, she now thoroughly understood, desirable man.

So she reached down and laid her hand on his surprisingly impressive bulge. “I’m not quite sure what I want yet, Bob. But I know that I want to take it slow.”

He guided her back to one of the bench seats so their height matched better as she continued to fondle his girth. “I… I didn’t expect it to be so… thick.”

He lifted his lips from her neck. She could feel his hot breath on her neck as he replied, idly trailing a finger down her back. “Yeah… I’ve heard the before.”

“Seriously it’s as thick as my wrist!”

Dar’s eyes widened at Kayla’s description. “So he’s just as well hung as I remember.”

“Yeah and he does this… thing. I was kind of afraid that he was gonna stick it in my ass, but I was so turned on by that point that I would have welcomed it. It would have torn me in two but I would have died happy.”

The girls were lying in bed as Kayla finished describing the date with Bob to her roommate. “And it’s my turn tomorrow…” Darlene’s voice sounded dreamy, almost wistful.

“Are you gonna…” Kayla let the question hang in the air.

“I’ve kind of wanted to for most of my life…”

“I want you to touch me.” Cassie’s voice was soft, plaintive, her breath catching in her throat.

Bob’s lips found the cleft of her throat but his hands responded to her desire, one slowly stroking up her inner thigh while the other glided up her side to finally make contact with her breast. His touch was so gentle, not what she was expecting but exactly what she wanted. What she needed.

“Ms. McDaniel?”

Alicia was laying on her bed still pouring through Bulgakov‘s masterpiece. She hadn’t really spoken to KJ since the first night except to thank her for breakfast. “Hmm?”

“I need to ask you something.”

She lowered her dropped her book to her lap and lowered her glasses, peering over the rims at the younger woman, a teacher’s trick.

“Look, I’m trying to be better. I’ve spent my whole life as a fuck-up. This is the only chance I’ll ever get to be something more, do something worthwhile. Can you… can you help me?”

“Help me get out of this.”

They had moved to the bedroom, hands all over each other. The height difference forgotten in their haste to get naked, to feel skin on skin. The only thing that mattered now was heat and touch, warmth and wetness and desire. Bob’s big hands were far more skillful than Cassie would have anticipated and her crotch was on fire from his attentions. Even if they hadn’t just gotten out of the water she would have been soaked.

Extricated from the confines of her swimsuit, Bob gave her a gentle push down onto the bed, and spreading her legs began to climb between them. “All women are the same height lying down.”

With that he buried his face in her pussy.

His technique was… amazing. No question, the man had many hidden talents, not the least of which she was discovering was an apparently prehensile tongue. Of course he could have been just plain awful since the last man who had gone down on her had been nearly five years ago. Bad pizza is better than no pizza. But he wasn’t awful. He took to eating her pussy like he lived there and it wasn’t long before, with a loud scream of ecstasy, she was christening his face with her juices. Her whole body was on fire, and she writhed thoughtlessly under his hands and mouth, gripped as she was in mind blowing orgasm after orgasm.

Finally spent, she lay on the bed listless, a thin string of drool trailing from the corner of her mouth, as he finally raised his head.

“What the hell did you just do to me?”

“Um… I believe the technical term is cunnilingus, but…”

“I have never cum that hard. Did I actually squirt?”

A rhetorical question. Her secretions were literally dripping from his beard. “Um. Yes. That’s not normal?”

Her only response was to flop down on the bed. “You get to sleep in the wet spot.”

(Title: ‘Despite What You’ve Been Told’ by Two Gallants)