His Perfect Childhood Friend

Tim stood in front of the old yellowish house, the one he grew up in, feeling his heart pounding so hard he feared it would echo in the quiet street. His thick thighs rubbed together, and the short skirt fluttered with every step, reminding him that any neighbor peeking from a window could see his enormous ass jiggling like a neon sign. He hoped his mom still lived there. He hadn’t dared call her because he didn’t know what to say or if she’d even recognize him. He knew Hildi had said reality would change so everyone would think he and Eric had always been like this, but when it came to his mom, he wasn’t sure. He took a deep breath, clenched his plump cheeks tightly, and raised a trembling hand to knock. But before his fingers touched the wood, the door swung open.

His mom stood there exactly as he remembered: a slightly plump middle-aged woman, messy brown hair tied in a sloppy ponytail, thick round glasses on her nose, an old T-shirt with a small sauce stain, and comfortable jeans. She looked exactly the same, down to the details, and it calmed him for a moment until she broke into a huge smile and said, “Timmy! What a sweet surprise! Why didn’t you call, my boy?” Her voice was warm, loving, just like before. Tim needed a few seconds to process, but it seemed Hildi’s curse had affected his mom too. For her, Tim had always been this femboy with smooth skin, feminine face, and enormous ass.

Before he could recover, a deep, familiar voice came from the living room: “Why are you nagging him? Invite him in, woman.” Tim entered with small, measured steps, trying not to move his backside too much so it wouldn’t stand out more. The living room was exactly as in his memories: an old brown sofa with faded floral cushions, a low wooden table cluttered with empty tea cups and folded newspapers, a red-brown Persian rug with frayed edges, a large old TV with a broken antenna, yellowish lace curtains filtering the afternoon sunlight. The smell of old coffee and butter cookies filled the room, just like always.

And then he saw him. His dad sat in the old armchair, the one he used to kick him off because it was “his.” Legs comfortably spread, remote in hand, plaid flannel shirt and old jeans. The same tall, heavy man who disappeared from his life when he was a kid. The same sharp gaze, the same hoarse voice. Tim felt the blood drain from his face. He remembered all the insults from his previous life: “sissy,” “little girl,” “why aren’t you like other boys?” He stood frozen like a statue, waiting for the bitter words that would come now, when he really looked like a girl.

But instead, his dad looked up, smiled a wide, warm smile, and raised an eyebrow playfully. “So, how are you, son?” The voice was soft, loving, without a hint of mockery. Tim felt his ass jiggle on its own, a small, involuntary motion he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t believe his ears. The same man who always put him down for not being manly enough was now speaking to him warmly when he looked like a perfect femboy. He realized in that moment: the curse had changed his dad too. Not drastically like turning him into a feminine doll with a huge ass, but enough. Enough for the tough, belittling personality to soften. Enough for him to accept his son exactly as he was in this world. And enough for his mom and dad to stay together all these years, unlike in the old reality where it ended in a bitter divorce.

Tim stood there, facing his two parents smiling at him with genuine love, and felt something strange spreading in his chest: deep relief, and also something small and embarrassing that felt very much like satisfaction. As if part of him—the part he was still trying to fight—was glad he finally “fit” his dad’s expectations.

Tim sat carefully on the old brown sofa, and his enormous ass immediately spread like a soft, thick pillow, enveloping the entire seat and spilling over the edges. He felt the plump cheeks squish pleasantly, turning the hard sofa into something soft like a cloud, just like with the gaming chair at home or his office chair. For a moment he thought to himself that in this state he could really sit on cold concrete and it would still be more comfortable than any normal chair he’d had before. The sensation was almost embarrassingly soft, and he tried not to think about how ridiculous it looked from the outside.

His mom returned from the kitchen with a tray of fresh cookies, the same familiar sweet-chocolate-vanilla smell filling the living room immediately. Tim recognized them at once: the same chocolate-chip cookies he’d brought to the office that morning, the same perfect shape, the same crisp outside and soft inside texture. Apparently, he brought cookies to his parents too. She placed the tray on the low table, smiled a wide smile at him, and said, “So Timmy, what brings you here in the middle of the day? Something happen at work?”

He shook his head quickly. “No, no, everything’s fine. They let us out early so… I thought I’d visit.” His dad took a cookie from the tray, bit into it leisurely, and said with a full mouth, “What a sweet kid you are, coming to visit your old parents for no reason.” The word “sweet” sounded so natural from him, without a trace of mockery, and Tim felt something small tighten in his stomach. It was strange, but also… nice.

He took a deep breath and got to the point. “I wanted to ask you something… do you remember exactly when Eric and I got together?” He tried to sound casual, like a normal question. They both froze for a moment, looking at each other. His dad raised an eyebrow. “I’m really not sure… you’ve always been together, right?” Then his mom jumped from the armchair in excitement. “Wait a minute! I know exactly what will help!” and she hurried out of the living room, her steps quick on the creaky floor.

His dad leaned forward, took another cookie and ate it slowly, looking at Tim with warm but searching eyes. “Why are you asking now?” he asked in a low voice. “I hope there’s no trouble between you and Eric.” There was real concern in his voice, a father’s worry for his son. Tim hurried to reassure him. “No, no, not at all! Someone at the office asked me and I wasn’t sure myself when exactly…” His dad breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Good, that’s reassuring because I planned to watch the basketball game with him this weekend.” Tim felt his brain freeze for a moment. Eric hated basketball. Always hated it. But now, in this reality, Eric not only liked basketball, he was friends with his dad and they bonded over it.

Tim’s mom returned to the living room with a thick, heavy photo album, old brown leather cover with small time stains. She sat right next to him on the sofa, which sank under their combined weight, opened the stiff pages with the sound of old paper, and smiled a wide nostalgic smile. Tim looked at the first photos and saw himself as a baby—a completely normal baby, with round face and toothless smile. Everything looked normal until Mom flipped forward to kindergarten photos: there he sat on the colorful rug, bright pink shirt with a sparkling unicorn, a Barbie doll clutched in his small hand, and right next to him in the same photo sat Eric, already a bit taller, looking at him protectively. Tim felt a slight shiver. They really met in kindergarten in the previous life too, but the pink shirt and Barbie definitely weren’t there before.

Another page, and now middle school: Tim already looked completely different. Long, glossy hair, smooth, soft face, and the ass—even then it stood out. Not like today, but much wider than any other kids, even some girls. He stood next to Eric, who had already started developing broad shoulders and strong arms, and the height difference between them was clear. His mom stroked the photo with her finger and said softly, “Look at you two… always side by side. Always protecting each other.” Tim raised a surprised eyebrow. “Eric… protected me?” Mom smiled a big smile. “You don’t remember? When the other kids called you ‘girl’ and ruined your dolls, Eric always stepped in and scared them until they ran away. He was like your knight.”

A small, faint memory tried to creep into Tim’s head—a tall boy pushing other kids, yelling “Leave him alone!”—but he quickly pushed it aside. He didn’t want to remember. He asked in a slightly trembling voice, “And I… how did I protect Eric?” Both of them, Mom and Dad, burst into warm laughter. His Mom wiped a small tear of laughter. “Timmy, you know we love Eric like a son, but he can sometimes be a bit too nice. Like when he doesn’t know when he’s being taken advantage of or when he struggles to speak up… but he always had you. You were the one who sniffed out fair deals, spoke at counters, made sure he didn’t overpay or sign something bad.” His dad added with a proud smile, “Without you, Eric would probably be working **** labor for pennies today, because someone would tell him it’s standard and he’d believe it.”

Tim continued flipping the album, passing photos of trips, birthdays, holidays—in every photo they were together, always close, always smiling—but he didn’t find an exact date when they “started dating.” He closed the album heavily, feeling small disappointment spreading in his chest, and asked again, “You’re really sure you have no idea when exactly we became a couple?” His mom stroked his cheek. “Sorry, sweetie, really not. You just… were always together. At some point it happened, without us needing to notice.”

He stood from the sofa, the small feminine pink bag on his shoulder, and his ass jiggled lightly as he took a step toward the door. He was already on his way out when his mom called from behind, “Wait a minute, Timmy! If you really want to know… maybe look in your diary. It’s still in the usual place.” Tim froze, turned slowly, eyes wide. “Diary?” he asked in a small voice. His mom smiled. “Of course, sweetie. In your room, top closet, behind the glittery pink box. We haven’t touched anything since you moved out.”

Tim climbed the narrow stairs, every step causing his huge ass to jiggle heavily side to side, the soft cheeks rubbing together inside the small, tight lace panties. His heart pounded so hard he felt it in his throat, and his hands trembled as he reached the closed bedroom door. He knew what waited behind it, yet felt like he was about to open a stranger’s door. He took a deep breath, turned the handle, and pushed.

The smell hit him first: super sweet, vanilla-strawberry, like a princess candy store. The room was deep, absolute pink, as if someone poured a bucket of cotton candy over every surface. Pastel pink walls with giant shiny strawberry stickers, white-pink fluffy heart-shaped rug, thin lace curtains with small pom-poms, double bed with sparkling pink sheets and dozens of small unicorn, flamingo, and big-eyed teddy pillows. A sheer pink canopy with tiny fairy lights surrounded the bed, and the open closet revealed rows of short pleated skirts, dresses, heart-and-striped stockings, pink and white lace panties organized in clear boxes, and thin high heels and ballet flats in pink than he’d owned pairs of shoes in his entire old life. On the walls hung posters of beautiful anime boys—long hair, big eyes, shy smiles—all looking like girls until he remembered they were classic traps.

In the center of the room stood a white-pink vanity table with a round mirror surrounded by bulbs, loaded with pastel eyeshadow palettes, glossy lip glosses, blushes, pink fur brushes, and heart- and unicorn-shaped perfume bottles.

In his old life, this room was the complete opposite: dark gray walls, FPS game and sports car posters, bed with simple black sheets, computer desk with three monitors and cables, black-red gaming rug floor, closet full of black jeans, band T-shirts, and game-logo jackets. Nothing pink, nothing cute, nothing hinting even slightly at what this room had become now. As if every trace of “old Tim” was erased and repainted in cotton-candy color.

He stood there a few seconds, staring at his reflection in the makeup mirror: feminine face, full lips, big eyes, short skirt and ass spilling from every side, and felt a cold shiver down his back. This was really his room. Always had been.

He stepped on the soft rug, felt it envelop his heels, opened the top closet as Mom instructed, moved the glittery pink box, and pulled out the diary. Thick, baby pink, silver glitter covering the cover, and in the center, in round, decorated handwriting with small hearts: “My Dear Diary ♡.” He held it close to his chest, felt the stiff pages through trembling fingers, and prepared to see what the current version of him thought about this life.

Tim sat on the soft pink bed, the heavy diary in trembling hands, and though he knew it would hurt, he opened the first page. No dates, just round, decorated handwriting with small hearts and drawn flowers, and the first words that jumped out: “Dear Diary, today I met Eric after school. Even though he started the gym a short while ago, his muscles are already developing.”

Tim flipped to another page: “Dear Diary, I need to buy another pair of pants because I ripped my current pair again. I hear all the kids whispering and mocking me but it doesn’t matter. I love my body and as long as I have Eric, I’ll get through anything.”

Tim flipped to another: “Dear Diary, I’m happy to say I officially have the biggest ass in school. Some girls are jealous but many support me. Lucy especially. She’s my best friend. Besides Eric, of course.”

Tim flipped to another: “Dear Diary, some bullies tried to hassle me. But luckily Eric arrived and saved me. They saw his big muscles and solid chest and handsome face and ran away.”

Tim flipped to another: “Dear Diary, Eric almost signed a modeling contract for nothing. That sleazy agent said it’s the opportunity that starts careers but I knew he was bluffing. After I argued with the agent, he agreed to pay Eric fairly. Eric was so embarrassed in the agent’s office but at least he looked cute. And after he got the money, he took me to a nice restaurant.”

Tim flipped to another: “Dear Diary, Eric and I went swimming today at the pool. My swimsuit kept riding up my ass crack but it didn’t bother me too much. I kind of liked people seeing my ass. But mostly I wanted to impress Eric. His toned body and sharp face made my dick stand at attention. Of course nothing showed because of my dick size but still. I made sure to bend over a lot in front of Eric and expose my ass to him. I looked for a sign if he feels for me like I feel for him. And I think I saw he had an erection. It was huge and he hurried to hide it but it seems like a good sign. Just imagining his cock entering my ass makes me…”

Tim couldn’t believe how horny the other version of him wrote in the diary. But without noticing, his hand wandered down and he started jerking his small dick. Tim flipped to another page: “Dear Diary, I admit it, I’m in love with Eric. I love everything about him. How he looks, how he talks, how he cares for me. I want to always be by his side and serve him. The problem is Eric is the hottest guy in school. Maybe in the world and if I want him to love me, I need to raise my value in his eyes. So I’m taking more cooking classes. Eric is a big man and deserves the tastiest food in the world. I just hope he likes my cookies.”

Tim didn’t stop touching himself and thought he’d close the diary but something prevented it. It was the urge making him continue reading.

Tim flipped to another page: “Dear Diary, I decided I’ll confess to Eric at prom. I really don’t want to ruin our friendship but I can’t keep my true feelings inside anymore.” Tim tried to stop both reading and touching himself but the urge kept growing and made him open a specific page and read it: “I did it. I told him I love him. And guess what? He said he loves me. And then I pulled down his pants and saw the most perfect cock in the world.”

And in that moment the memory burst into Tim’s head like a breaking dam. He saw the dark park after prom, the small prom lights in the background, Eric in front of him with scared and loving eyes, and then himself dropping to his knees, pulling down his pants, taking the huge cock in his mouth for the first time. He felt the taste again, the warmth, the pressure of the cock pushing into his ass for the first time, the slight pain that immediately turned into insane pleasure, the hot cum filling him until it spilled out on his thighs. They came at the same time, shouting each other’s names, and he knew in that moment this was what he was meant to do all his life.

The memory was so vivid that his small dick exploded in his panties the moment Eric’s “cum” felt inside him again. He shuddered all over, moaned in a high, broken voice, soft body trembling on the pink bed, and felt the warm fluid sticking to his thighs.

When he snapped out of the trance he no longer tried to fight. He shoved the diary into the pink bag, stood quickly, almost fell from the heels, and ran down the stairs. He passed his parents in the living room, mumbled “Thanks for the diary!” in a choked voice, and didn’t wait for a reply. The door slammed behind him.

The sun had already set, the sky purple-orange, and he started running. His huge ass bounced and jiggled with every step like two enormous balls, the skirt lifted, people on the street turned to look, but he didn’t slow down. He felt his cum still sticky on his thighs, his heart pounding like a drum, and the only urge in his head: get to Eric. Now. He had to feel him again, had to tell him he was his.

The run looked ridiculous with a huge ass bouncing full **** in the twilight streets—but he didn’t care. He just ran, breathing heavily, until their building appeared in front of him, and he almost burst into tears from relief.

Tim burst into the apartment like a storm, the door slamming behind him, and he saw Eric standing in the center of the living room, sweat-soaked shirt clinging to every muscle, face full of confusion and pain. He opened his mouth to speak, “Tim, something crazy happened to me at work, a girl…” but the words were cut off as Tim leaped on him, thin arms wrapping around his neck, soft lips crashing into his in a hungry kiss, warm, wet tongue pushing inside without permission.

Eric tried to resist for a moment, large hands gripping Tim’s shoulders to push him away, but the sweet taste, and Tim’s small, **** moans broke him. He surrendered, bit back, their tongues fighting as fingers tore clothes in frenzy: Eric’s shirt ripped, Tim’s skirt thrown aside, lace panties torn off.

Tim knelt in front of him, big eyes full of desire, small hands gripping the huge cock already standing like a pillar, but before his mouth could reach it, Eric grabbed his hair, voice trembling with shame, “Wait… someone gave me a blowjob today… I’m sorry, I…” Tim just smiled a sweet-evil smile, gripped his cock in one hand and moaned, “That really doesn’t bother my little dick,” and swallowed it to the root in one breath.

Eric moaned in a broken voice, head thrown back. It was completely different from Tiffany: Tim knew exactly where to press, where to suck, how to swirl his tongue around the veins, how to open his throat to take it all. It was as if his body was built specifically for this.

But Eric wanted more. He grabbed the enormous ass, lifted Tim in the air like a light doll, and the feeling of the soft cheeks in his hands drove him crazy. Tim squealed in excitement, thin legs wrapping around Eric’s waist as they kissed on the way to the bedroom, bodies grinding, sweat and saliva mixing.

Eric sat on the bed edge, held Tim above his cock like an arrow ready to hit the target, the thick head already touching the tight, warm entrance. He tried to stop himself, jaw muscles tense, but despite that, Eric used all his strength and stopped. He knew the curse made them like this and didn’t want to hurt his friend. Tim understood what Eric was struggling with and thought his face was cute when trying to resist. He stroked Eric’s cheek, smiled a soft smile and said, “It’s okay Eric, you can let go.” Eric asked if Tim was sure and Tim answered “Of course I’m sure because I love you, Eric. I always loved you.” Those words broke the last resistance.

Eric dropped him down, and the huge cock entered all at once to the end. Tim’s ass trembled like jelly, waves of soft flesh jiggling in all directions, cheeks spreading and closing around the cock like a warm, wet pillow. No need for lube. Just like Hildi said, the hole was clean, smooth, as if designed exactly for this. Tim squealed in pure pleasure, back arching, and the ass started moving on its own, forward and back, up and down, like a machine built to ride cock. With every thrust the cheeks bounced and trembled, the wet sound of flesh on flesh filling the room, and Tim felt every cell in his body ignite.

They rolled again and again: Eric fucked him on the bed, large hands sinking into the soft ass, pulling him down harder each time; then Tim on all fours, ass raised high, trembling with every deep penetration, moaning like a bitch in heat; then Tim on his back, legs in the air, ass spreading on the bed like a giant pillow, Eric pounding him hard until the bed creaked; then Tim riding on top, ass bouncing up and down like a giant basketball, every landing sending waves of soft flesh in all directions, and he looked down at Eric with eyes full of love and adoration.

In every position Tim’s ass was the star: soft, warm, trembling, jiggling, tightening and releasing at exactly the right time, as if it knew what Eric needed before he did. Eric noticed that like the workouts he led at the gym, his partner was leading them. Not that he complained. It seemed Tim had encyclopedic knowledge of the best sex positions and Eric was just happy they were experiencing it together.

Tim and Eric came endlessly even though most of the cum was Eric’s while not much came from Tim’s small dick. But Tim didn’t care. Because every time Eric came, huge amounts of hot cum filled his ass, spilled on his thighs, dripped on the sheets, and he licked every drop—from the floor, from Eric’s stomach, from the cock itself. It was the tastiest thing in the world.

Hours melted away. They fucked like animals, like a couple who’d waited for this all their lives. Finally, they collapsed on the bed, bodies sticky with sweat and cum, and fell asleep. Eric stayed inside Tim’s ass, the cock still half-hard, surrounded by soft, wet warmth, and Tim fell asleep with a small smile on his lips, the ass still trembling lightly with every breath.

For the first time since the curse, both felt this was exactly where they were meant to be.