Surprisingly, I don’t change into anything

I don’t change into anything

I consider my options, but ultimately, I tell Jeffrey, “No need.” Did I just hear a bit of sultriness in my voice? Is it me being snarky? Or are the hormones running through my body somehow foreshadowing what could happen next?

I let go of Jeffrey’s hand, though some part of me wishes I didn’t, and I step back, out of the crumpled mound which is my pants. I take the bottom hem of my shirt and lift it up, immediately feeling an obstruction–my breasts–which offers little resistance as the shirt is pulled up. I continue to pull my shirt up to my neck and slip my head through the opening, feeling more resistance as I feel my hair bunch up. I pull harder on the shirt and eventually it flies free as my long hair drops down across my shoulders. I drop my shirt on the floor and observe that there is a bit of unnatural hair color in my new, long locks, which take on a naturally wavy quality. In the light, the hair color is a dark auburn. At this moment, I dip my head to the left and right, feeling how my hair floats as I move my head. I even try to twirl my hair by rotating my head around its axis and I feel some enjoyment and pleasure out of it.

When I’m done, I find my hair has gotten in my face, so I make the appropriate moves with my fingers to brush my locks out of my face and even tuck some locks behind my ear. It’s then I notice Jeffrey gawking at me. I observe his eyes and see that he’s not looking at my face. His gaze is directed a bit downwards and I follow where his eyes have fallen. Protruding out of my chest, a slimmer and lithe torso to add, are a pair of breasts. I lift my hands to hold them, feeling a sort of natural firmness combined with a squishiness; as my fingers depress into the flesh, the skin has a considerable give. The whole process of this, like the twirling of my hair, gives me some satisfaction out of it.

With my breasts in my hands, I look up and see Jeffrey is looking bothered. He licks his lips, and his hand absentmindedly drifts to the front of his pelvic area. It’s when I notice that I’m literally half-naked in front of him. If I had been fully naked as a guy and I was standing in front of another man who was fully clothed, I’d feel embarrassed. But with my chest bared and my new petite melons grasped by my hands in front of Jeffrey, I’m surprised to find myself not at all disturbed by the circumstances.

Instinctively, I bit my lip while looking at the black man in front of me. His body language speaks to me that this man is hungry, but not for food. But he doesn’t make a move towards me and noticing this, I discover how much self-control this guy has. He could have easily taken advantage of the power difference and pounced me.