Luke decides to try on more of Emma's clothes, wanting to experience her body fully.

Luke, his heart still pounding with excitement and desire, looked at the pile of clothes on his bed. He knew he wanted more, needed more. He wanted to experience Emma's body fully, to know what it felt like to be her completely. He spotted a pair of Emma's jeans, a tank top, and her hair band among the clothes he had grabbed. A wicked smile played on his lips as he formulated a plan.

He decided to start with the jeans. He quickly kicked off his own pants, his cock already hard and straining against his boxers. He slipped on Emma's jeans, the fabric smooth and cool against his skin. As he pulled them up, he felt a warmth spread through his lower body. He looked down, watching as his legs morphed into Emma's, his ass filling out the jeans perfectly. He turned to look at himself in the mirror, admiring the way Emma's ass looked in the tight denim.

Next, he grabbed the tank top. It was a simple black tank, soft and well-worn. He pulled it over his head, feeling the fabric stretch taut across his new breasts. The neckline was low, revealing a generous amount of cleavage. He couldn't help but run his hands over his breasts, feeling their weight and softness, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure straight to his groin.

Finally, he picked up the hair band. It was a simple black band, nothing special, but he knew its power. He slipped it on, tucking his hair behind his ears. A warmth spread through his head, and he looked in the mirror to see Emma's face staring back at him. Her long brown hair, her bright blue eyes, her full lips—they were all his now. He touched his face, feeling the softness of her skin, the curve of her cheekbones.

He opened his mouth, tentatively speaking. "Hello?" His voice came out soft and melodic, a perfect match for Emma's. He let out a soft laugh, the sound strange and exhilarating. He had done it. He had fully become Emma.

But he had made a conscious decision not to wear Emma's panties. He wanted to keep his cock, wanted to experience the contrast of her body with his own maleness. He looked down, seeing the bulge of his cock straining against the tight jeans. It was a strange sight, Emma's body with his cock, but it was also incredibly erotic.

He turned to the mirror, admiring his new form. He was Emma, but not quite. He had her breasts, her ass, her face, her everything—but he also had his cock, hard and aching with need. He ran his hands over his body, marveling at the sensation. He could feel the softness of her skin, the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips. He could feel the weight of her breasts, the firmness of her ass, the roughness of his own hands against her smooth skin.

He slipped his hands into the cups of the bra, feeling the warmth and weight of his new breasts. He pinched his nipples, a gasp escaping his lips at the sharp pleasure. He could feel the wetness growing between his legs, his cock throbbing with each beat of his heart. He unbuttoned the jeans, sliding his hand inside to grip his cock. He was harder than he had ever been, the sensation of his new body sending waves of pleasure through him.

He stroked himself slowly, his eyes locked on his reflection. The sight of himself as Emma, with his own hard cock, was overwhelming. He could feel every sensation, every touch, every movement. It was intense, overwhelming, and he never wanted it to end.

He turned, admiring the way Emma's ass looked in the mirror. He slipped his free hand into the back of the jeans, feeling the smooth, firm flesh of her ass. He squeezed, a moan escaping his lips as he felt the pleasure course through him. He began to stroke himself faster, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

He could feel his orgasm building, the tension in his body growing with each stroke. He pinched his nipples again, a cry escaping his lips as he felt his release approach. He stroked himself faster, his body tensing as he chased his pleasure.

But just as he was about to come, he heard a noise outside his door. He froze, his heart pounding in his chest. Had someone heard him? Had they seen him? He quickly pulled his hand out of his jeans, his body still trembling with unspent desire.

He listened carefully, his heart pounding in his ears. He heard footsteps, soft and slow, approaching his door. He panicked, looking around his room for a place to hide. But it was too late. The door handle turned, and the door began to open.

Luke braced himself, ready to face whoever was on the other side. But nothing could have prepared him for what he saw next.

{Who is at the door?}