And Me? I'm Not Sure What I Want Anymore

Yes, at first I wanted to turn back, wanted to become a man again. Yes that even lasted a long while and yes there are still remnants of it lingering around in the back of my psyche. Yes, a part of me still wants it.

But as far as my cock is concerned...

It's odd to say, but the moments where I have missed my cock have been few and far between. I guess partly because it's really something that you're not conscious of as a man, something that just kind of lingers in the background. Or at least it did for me.

It's a body part, and one that really only is useful at certain times of the day. I think of it more than I would my pancreas, but less than my hands or my eyes or my mouth because frankly unless it's hurting or otherwise demanding my attention in some way it isn't really a priority for me. You don't think of your cock, it just kind of is.

So yes, the number of times that I've actually missed my cock since I became Emily haven't exactly been numerous. I have missed being a man, but haven't really missed my actual cock. And I can probably count on one hand the number of times things would be better if I had it.

This, though, is certainly one of those times.

Rachel kisses me hard, her tongue darting in past my lips and playing against mine. I pull back quickly and she mewls, warm putty in my hands ready for me to mold and please and pleasure.

Rachel wants me. She wants me to satisfy her and she wants me to use my nimble little fingers and tender little kisses to bring to her a heat that she feels she needs and I want it too. As my fingertips brush across her hip and down to her inner thigh and I tease them open, sliding in and just slipping gently across the lips of her sex, I want to make her feel good.

But I don't really know how.

Being in this body, in the body of a woman, has shown me just how woefully unprepared I truly was to pleasure a woman. Just how much I, as a man, had no idea what I was doing when it came to the body of a woman.

Rachel is far better than me, but then she's had a lifetime of experience in it and yes I have Emily's memories and all that, but it's not really the same. I'm learning on my feet and I'm stumbling and I can't help but feel like she deserves better than this.

This isn't the first time we've been together. In the short time we've known each other we've certainly had more than our fair share of fun but also it's never really been easy for me. I've always felt a little overwhelmed and more than a little intimidated and I suppose part of that is because of who she is but also because she is a she.

She makes me feel so goddamn good and all I want to do is make her feel one-tenth as good as that.

And I'm failing at it, or rather I've failed in the past. I've seen her with me and I've seen her with men and I know that it's different. I had my fun with her, trapped in a shower just like this when we getting ready to go out tonight, and it was good and I think she had fun. Hell, she might have even cum a bit, but it was nothing in comparison to the way she was with them.

With Blake. With Jake. With a cock.

I want my cock back now. I want it back so that I can plunge it into her. I'm in charge now and I'm here to make her feel good and I know that I could, if I had it back. That I could fill her up and thrust into her and make her moan for me, make her shake and shiver.

If I had my cock, I could satisfy her.

But as it stands all I am is in this well over my head.

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