Evening with Emma

The soft rays of the fake sun gently filter into the room, coaxing you from the depths of sleep. As you slowly open your eyes, you find yourself still nestled against Felicia's warmth, the two of you locked in a peaceful, post-pleasure embrace.

Recollections of the previous night flood your mind—the electrifying sensation of Felicia's lips on yours, the intimacy of her raspy, feminine voice, and the passionate exchange that followed. It was an experience that had challenged your preconceived notions and left you with a newfound appreciation for the complexity of desire.

A stirring beside you interrupts your reflections, and you feel Felicia shift slightly. Her neck twists, granting her a view of your awakened state. Without a word, she reaches for her notebook and marker, and in the silence of the moment, she writes, "That was fun, wasn't it?"

You take the marker and notebook from her and respond, "Yeah, it really was. I couldn't imagine a better first time."

She continues writing, "You're lucky you're not a feminii. Otherwise, I probably would've fucked you."

A shiver runs down your spine at the thought, and you're left pondering the complexities of your newfound desires.

Felicia writes again, "Either way, I've been trained enough to like taking it more than giving it now."

You're curious about her comment and ask, "What do you mean by trained?"

Her response is straightforward, "Through some of the stuff they do to make feminii."

You can't help but wonder about her journey. "And what about your... dick?" you inquire.

"Some people get that switched for a fake pussy, but not me. Not yet," Felicia reveals.

Your conversation takes a pause, and the sound of your growling stomach reminds you of a more immediate need. You write, "Dinner together?"

Felicia responds, "I can't eat, liquids only. You go."

Concerned, you ask once more, "Are you sure?"

With a sense of finality, Felicia writes, "I fucking said go without me."

Taking the hint, you rise from the bed and make your way toward the door. Felicia remains behind, the enigma of her life and desires still swirling in your thoughts as you head toward the cafeteria for dinner.

The bustling cafeteria beckons as you make your way through the cafeteria line, picking up a plate filled with a variety of delectable items: a generous portion of grilled chicken, a helping of roasted vegetables, and a scoop of creamy mashed potatoes. You pass by the salad bar, briefly contemplating whether to add a touch of greenery to your plate, but ultimately decide against it today.

With your tray in hand, you begin your search for an empty seat amidst the crowd. As you navigate the sea of tables, your eyes land on a familiar face—Emma, sitting alone at a table near the corner of the room.

With a friendly smile, you approach her and take a seat across from her. "Hey, Emma," you greet her warmly, "how have you been?"

She returns your smile, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Hey there," she replies. "I've been good, thanks. You're looking pretty good yourself."

You chuckle modestly, still not entirely accustomed to the compliments. "Thanks, I appreciate that. Your makeup looks fantastic, by the way, and that A-line dress suits you perfectly." Thanks to Miranda, you actually knew what you were talking about.

Emma's blush deepens, and she shifts the conversation with a curious glint in her eye. "So, what have you been up to? I haven't seen you around much lately."

You decide to share a bit about your recent experiences, starting with your class with Miranda. "Well, I had a class with Miranda, but you probably know her as Dr. Maci, and then we had lunch together."

Emma's eyes widen with a mix of curiosity and envy. "You had lunch with Dr. Maci? That's incredible! No one ever does that with students. You must be something special."

You nod, acknowledging the uniqueness of the situation, and then proceed to tell her about your second class and the mysterious man in the black suit. Emma hardly listens, clearly not intrigued by the mysterious encounter, focusing on her plate instead.

As you mention spending time with Felicia, Emma's eyes light up with excitement. "You spent time with Felicia? Wow, you're really diving into this whole experience, aren't you? Tell me everything!"

You decide to keep things vague, not wanting to divulge too much. "Well, we spent some time together," you say with a sly smile.

Emma leans in closer, her curiosity piqued. "Come on, you can't just leave it at that! Give me something to work with here."

By now, you've both finished your dinners, and Emma suggests, "How about we continue this conversation in my room? It's quieter there."

You readily agree, intrigued by the prospect of delving further into your conversation with Emma. Together, you rise from your seats, making your way out of the bustling cafeteria and toward her room, ready for a more personal exchange.

You and Emma make yourselves comfortable on her bed as the conversation flows naturally. Curious about her journey, you begin by asking, "So, what have you been up to lately?"

Emma's face lights up as she launches into her activities. "Well," she starts, "I've been diligently working on my transformation. I'm taking the behavioral therapy sessions, following the medication regimen, and I've even been attending makeup classes, as you can probably tell, and deciding my breast size."

You nod, genuinely interested. "Have you decided on what size you want?"

Emma hesitates for a moment, her fingers playing nervously with the edge of her dress. "Well," she begins, "I've been thinking of a few sizes…but I'm thinking 32C or 34B or like that" She mentions a couple of sizes, but you quickly realize you're clueless when it comes to breast measurements.

Seeing your puzzled expression, Emma decides to demonstrate. She gets up and walks over to a box tucked in the corner of her room. With a smile, she retrieves a few breast molds and returns to the bed.

You examine the molds with a contemplative look, trying to gauge their size. "I think it depends on your body type and what you feel comfortable with," you offer, trying to be helpful.

Emma's face turns slightly pink, and she seems a bit shy. You notice her discomfort and decide to ease the tension. "It's perfectly normal to be uncertain," you say with a reassuring smile. "Maybe you could try on the molds to see how they feel? I'd be happy to give you a second opinion."

Emma agrees to give the breast molds a try, and you can see her both excited and nervous. As she begins to select from her options, she can't help but feel a bit self-conscious. "I have a few to choose from," she explains, her voice tinged with uncertainty, "and I'm not entirely sure which one would be the best fit for me."

You nod reassuringly. "Don't worry, Emma. We can figure this out together. Just try them on, and we'll see which one makes you feel the most comfortable and confident."

Emma glanced at the assortment of breast molds scattered on her bed, then back at you. "I think I'll put on a bra instead. It'll make trying these on easier."

You nodded in agreement, understanding the practicality of her decision. "Sure, take your time."

Blushing, Emma fumbled for a bra in her drawer, casting a nervous glance your way. "Um, could you... close your eyes? I mean, it's a bit... you know."

You chuckled softly, respecting her modesty. "Of course, I'll look away."

As you turned your back to her, you heard the faint rustle of clothing. After a few moments, Emma's voice called out, "Okay, you can open your eyes now."

Turning back around, you found Emma standing before you, a light flush still on her cheeks. She seemed a bit more at ease now.

She starts with a moderately sized mold, one that's not too big but would give her a noticeable enhancement. As she adjusts it against her chest, her face turns slightly red, and she glances at you for feedback.

You carefully examine the mold and how it complements her frame. "That's a good start," you offer encouragingly. "It adds a nice shape without being too overpowering. How do you feel about this one?"

Emma fidgets with the mold, appearing a bit self-conscious. "I'm not sure. It feels a bit… unnatural, I guess."

Understanding her concern, you suggest trying another size. She moves on to a slightly smaller option, and this time she seems a bit more at ease. You take a moment to assess the fit.

"It looks more subtle," you comment, "and it might feel more natural. What do you think?"

Emma takes a deep breath and nods. "Yeah, it's better. I'm leaning toward this one."

Now that you understood the sizing better, you consider the various molds and sizes and think about what would best suit Emma. After some contemplation, you make an unexpected suggestion, "What about trying a double D? I mean, your frame could definitely pull it off, and, well, guys do tend to love, you know, larger busts."

Emma's eyes widen in surprise at your suggestion. "A 34DD? Are you serious? That's huge!"

You nod confidently. "Yeah, it's on the bigger side, but it might look amazing on you. Your frame can totally handle it."

Hesitantly, Emma selects the 34DD mold and tries it on. As she examines herself in the mirror, her expression is one of disbelief. She clearly isn't convinced about the idea, and she looks to you for your opinion.

You get up from the bed and walk over to her. "You know," you begin, "it actually looks great on you. Seriously, your frame can make this size look natural. Men often find larger breasts very attractive, and it could boost your confidence too."

With a bit more courage, you reach out and gently grab her chest through the bra, as if to emphasize your point. For a moment, you close your eyes, imagining how it would feel for Emma to have breasts of that size. When you open your eyes, you find Emma's face flushed with embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry," you stammer, retracting your hand quickly and looking apologetic.

Emma turns around, her cheeks still red, and murmurs, "It's okay. I just need a moment to think."

Feeling that you might have crossed a line, you decide it's best to leave her be. You offer a quick, "Alright, I'll leave you to it then. Take your time," and head towards the door.

"Thanks," Emma replies, her voice a bit shaky.

You say your goodbyes and make your way back to your own room, reflecting on your interaction with Emma and hoping you didn't make her uncomfortable with your bold suggestion.