Morning Yoga

As Jon emerged from his slumber, he was greeted by the warm rays of sunshine beaming through the expansive picture window of his luxurious new bedroom. The opulent accommodations that Girl World had provided were nothing short of extraordinary: a sumptuous king-sized bed that beckoned him to stay a while, a sprawling walk-in closet that seemed to go on for days, and a breathtaking view of the shimmering beach that took his breath away. Indeed, this was a paradise that he could only dream of, and yet it was his reality.

Looking down at his body, he realized that he had been so tired the previous night that he was still in his work outfit. Jon stopped over to the make-up table and took in his image. His satin teddy, his fishnets, even his bunny ears, all exuded professionalism. He almost hated taking them off, but Jon wondered if they would come in handy on a different day, so he slipped of his clothes. Opening a drawer, Jon took out a fresh pair of white see-through panties and their matching bra. A fresh start to his day.

Despite the fact that he was clad only his underwear, Jon strode confidently to the window to savor the breathtaking view. Just beyond, on a balcony on the adjacent building, a young man gazed back at him, his hand buried in his trousers. Jon simply waved and grinned, grateful to have such amiable neighbors. Yet, as he watched the man feverishly scratch himself, a pang of concern prickled at Jon's consciousness. Could it be a rash? Was he suffering from some sort of affliction? Jon pondered this as he observed the man's frenzied hand movements, and contemplated paying a visit later on, perhaps armed with an ointment or a soothing cream to offer some respite.

Not wanting to waste the morning, Jon's lithe frame twisted and turned, his body bending into a graceful arc as he reached down to touch his toes, his rear facing the window. Though he had never been much for sports, he knew the importance of limbering up before a day's work. While he was, by no means, an expert at the art, Jon was confident that he could improvise his own yoga routine, the heat of the sun warming the delicate fabric of his panties as he held each pose.

Jon had almost lost himself in his work the night before! Not that Jon minded the money he'd earned in tips, but he'd been so engrossed in his job, it was almost as if he had taken on a new personality. For a few moments Jon had considered that he'd missed his calling, that he had been made to wait tables. Earning tips had been easy enough. The patrons had been generous. Well, the crossdressers hadn't been big spenders, but the other men, the one in men's clothes, they'd practically thrown money at him. And all it had taken was a little bit of friendly hospitality.

Standing up slowly from his bent pose, Jon held his position for a moment, then slid his feet to each side, slowly lowering himself to the ground doing the splits. He'd never done the splits before, Jon didn't know he could be so flexible, but as he sat on floor spread out before the window, he felt great. No wonder so many people were taking this up as a hobby!

Even after they'd finished up, after last call, Jon had still craved the fulfillment he found in serving the men in the bar. He'd brought drinks, he'd taken orders, he'd even consoled them, relieving them of their heartbreaks with a good listening ear, often perched on a lap or kneeling between their legs. But ending the night had been inevitable, as had returning home with Kelli. Add living with a crossdresser to the things that Jon had never considered doing before, but Girl World had convince him otherwise.

But then there had been that shot of pleasure he'd felt when he and Kelli had touched...

Maybe that had been the inspiration for his dreams...

They had mostly featured himself and Kelli, only they weren't exactly Jon and Kelli. Jon was himself. Himself but different. His chest, Jon had discovered, was much more masculine, so much so that it had ballooned outward, filling up his bra, bikini top, blouse, whatever each dream had dressed him in. His face, a rugged, tough looking face, with big puffy red lips, smokey eyes, long blonde hair. His stomach was thin, finally loosing those extra pounds he'd wanted to drop, but his rear end meant business. It was a macho looking bubble, always clad in something skin tight, except for the couple occasions where he had been completely naked.

Those naked dreams had given him the revelation of how far his dream transformation had gone. His penis, for example, was huge. Twice the size it was normally, hanging low between his legs.

It was like he'd been given his dream body. A true vision of beefcake, something that belonged on a poster hanging on the wall of a horny teenage girl.

Kelli, too, had undergone a transformation. Much of Kelli's body matched Jon's (maybe they'd been going to the same dream gym, Jon thought), but never did Kelli's penis become evident. Probably tucked behind his legs, the young man thought, which was good. The last thing Jon wanted to see was another man's penis.

The dreams took place in a variety of locations, always with Jon and Kelli as best friends, but they always ended the same way. The pair began, as if each had something to prove, to wrestle. Jon always got the upper hand, but in the process both men, now visions of masculinity, found themselves ripping the clothes from each other's bodies, dresses, skirts, lingerie, all discarded, revealing their hardy physiques beneath. Once naked, the dream would end, and another would begin.

Jon leaned forward until his bra-clad chest was on the ground, then slid his legs behind him until they were shoulder width apart. Then, pushing himself backward while keeping his chest on the ground, he bent at the knees and pushed his behind in the air, once again enjoying the warmth of the sun on his ass.

While Jon didn't relish the idea of spending time with a cross-dresser in Girl World (he was afraid that it would cramp his style), Kelli seemed to be a genuinely nice person. Maybe Jon would give him a day, allow his roommate the chance to become friends. Who knows, if Jon spent enough time with him, maybe Kelli would pick up a thing or two, maybe he'd stop being so girlie, and pick up on Jon's more masculine fashion habits.

Satisfied that his workout was enough, Jon stood to his feet. He turned toward the window again, adjusting his bra straps that had slid down his shoulders, and looked across to his friendly neighbour. The man's face was bright red, as if he'd just had a workout himself. He'd taken his hand from his pants, which Jon assessed as a good sign, but now he had a large wet stain on the front of his pants! Oh no! He must have spilled a drink on himself while he was scratching, a purely miserable experience, Jon was sure.

Giving one more wiggle of his fingers, followed by a friendly wink and a blown kiss (Jon was turning more European all the time!), Jon turned away from the window and walked out of the room, excited for another day of island living.