Nothing for now

The thought of telling your husband that you'd cheated on him turned your stomach, so you resolved not to. You knew he had a right to know, but you weren't strong enough to tell him that Aimee wasn't the only slut involved with that argument.

*You couldn't help yourself,* the voice comforted you, *you just did what comes naturally to girls like you.*

That knot of guilt and self-loathing roiled in your gut as you let yourself into the house, locking the door behind you. Worst of all, you wanted to see Aimee again. The sex you'd enjoyed with her had been some of the best you'd had, in your admittedly limited experience.

Greg was waiting for you as you climbed the stairs toward the bathroom, disappointment in his eyes. "Stephanie, where have you *been* all day?" He asked, his voice an even mix of concern and anger.

"I was out," you said, your voice flat, "I'm back now. Can we talk about it later? I'm really tired." Your voice was flat. Emotionally, you were exhausted.

"No, we can't just go to bed! You've been gone all day! You didn't take the car, you didn't leave a note, or even answer your phone-"

"My phone died, sorry." You held it up, pointedly plugging it into the charger. Tears came to your eyes as you remembered that you had a job interview the next day. You needed to get ready, print your resume... It all felt crushing. "I need to go to bed, babe. Please?" You wanted to curl up and hide forever.

Greg seemed to understand that something was wrong, and came to you, wrapping his arms around you as you sniffled. "Stephanie, I'm sorry about what I said this morning. I didn't want to fight. If you like Aimee, that's great!" He held you, then caught your breath, moving back a step. "Wait, have you been drinking?"

"A little bit." You raked your mind for a lie. "...I was celebrating; Aimee got me a job! It's at Ameranth, and they said I can start tomorrow."

You weren't sure if it was the lie or the tears, but he nodded, smiling gently. "That's... great! Really good, beautiful. Congratulations." He wrapped you in another hug. "Listen, I'm worried about you. I know this move was stressful, but this was the second night since we got here that you've come home drunk. Are you doing ok?"

You felt awful as you answered,"Yeah, I'm ok." You kissed him, then slipped into the bathroom to get ready for bed. Greg joined you after a few minutes, the two of you sharing small details of your day as you got ready. An hour later you were asleep, Greg spooning you as you struggled to come to terms with what you'd just done to him.

You were eager for the dream when it came.

You were at work, at your old job, at your old desk. Your coworkers were scattered around at you, chattering about software releases and nerdy TV shows. You walked through the office, letting the nostalgia of it wash over you. Everything was normal, if a bit dull.

You walked through the cafeteria, the lobby downstairs, and then up to the balcony of your building, looking out over the city. The sun and the wind felt good, and you stayed there a long time, watching the city down below, when you heard a voice from behind you.

"Honey tits! There you are! Where have you been?" You turned, ready with an appropriately shocked reply, and saw your old boss standing behind you. He looked down at you, leering, and you glanced down in shock as your clothing melted beneath his gaze. The body beneath your disintegrating clothing wasn't yours... Was it?

Behind him you could see your reflection in the reflective glass fronting your building, and your jaw dropped. Your sweater was almost gone, revealing a tiny bikini top that looked more like dental floss than anything a person would wear. The body it wrapped around looked like a twisted, cartoonist adolescent fantasy made flesh. Your tits (these were clearly 'tits') were easily the size of you head, and your torso thinned before widening into the kind of ass that inspires rap songs. Your jeans were melting away to reveal a "skirt" that was little more than a belt, and a pair of staggering heels you something balanced on easily. You weren't wearing underwear. Your face was made up like some streetwalker, an your hair hung in long curls.

*You look sooo hot!* said the voice. You did look hot, but this was... too much!

You stuttered, looking toward your boss. "W-what did you call me, sir?" The words came out deferential instead of outraged. Wait, you had never called your boss 'sir' if your life! His name was... what?

Nothing came to mind.

His tone was unconcerned when he answered, "Honey Tits? Sinnamon? Whatever you're calling yourself these days. Anyway, the party is getting started. Cascade room, is this way." He turned, gestured, and you followed him back into the building. You were eager come in and get out of the cold.

At first, the office looked as you remembered. Then you realized that everybody working at a computer was a man. A sinking suspicion and an unexpected warmth ran through you.

"Where are all the women?" You asked, and then you saw a head of blonde tresses bobbing under a nearby desk. Farther on, you could see a woman bent over a desk, moaning as a software engineer fucked her from behind. You took a step toward her, making a small sound, your mouth watering.

"Oh, they're here and there," your boss answered, "but most of your friends are at the party." Wordlessly you followed, feeling dizzy. You bright manicured pink fingernails up to idly toy with a nipple through your top. You giggled.

You heard the 'party' before you saw it, and felt another wave of heat course through your body at the welcome sound. You could hear a chorus of groans, panting, and moaning that echoed down the hall. Rounding the corner, you could see over a dozen women and perhaps twenty men in tangled knots around the room, grouped in pairs, foursomes, and uncountable shifting groups.

You felt your boss casually slip two fingers inside you as you stood taking it all in, and you spread your legs to welcome the intrusion. You recognized strange parodies of your friends from work, each of them curvier and more beautiful than your memories could account for. You longed to join them; they were having so much fun without you!

Your boss roughly bent you over as you reached the center of the room and you offered no resistance, falling to all fours. You released a contented sigh as you felt him press his cock inside you, and then you let it shift into more **** mewling as he started to fuck you in earnest.

*This is what you were born for,* the voice intoned in your mind, *you were born to fuck.*

Your coworkers started to break up their pairings and came to join you, offering hands or tongues to your body as the world around you shifted into a sea of flesh. Somebody started singing "Happy Birthday" to the rhythm of your ass slapping against somebody's hips (you'd lost track of whose) until the sound was cut off by an alarm clock.