Work... Work never changes...

You put on your suit top, a torn pair of denim shorts only work when you're sitting down in your cubicle if any of the higher-higher ups patrols the area, and get ready to face the grind again.

You get back to your cubicle and the phone is eagerly calling for you. You take a sip from your less than hot cup of tea before you pick it up and return to your grind.

"I.T. this is Jamie speaking," you beam as you find your bright voice fascinating, but the magic quickly drains away as some idiot on the other end of the call tries to tear you a new one.

'I'm perfectly capable of doing that myself, thank you very much!' you think to yourself as you perch yourself in your chair, putting your feet in positions they've never been before. You roll your eyes as you begin landing the panicked worker drone on the phone, a finger eventually beginning to slowly circle your perky lips as some part of you starts looking forward to getting them kissed and used when you go home tonight.

You're almost ecstatic when you unlock your door to your and Emily's apartment. You've been ogled all the time on your way home, and for some reason it's been turning you on like a bitch. Well, metaphorically at least. Maybe a little like a bitch that loves being a tease, but just a little. You never experienced the joy of knowing you've caught someone's attention enough that they will be imagining your face when they jerk off later in the evening. Or your ass when they're rolling their girlfriends over for a sex session a bit more energetic than usual.

"Honey I'm home!" you call out as you smell Emily's cooking from the kitchen.

"Welcome back Jamie," Emily beams from the kitchen door, standing in her apron with a wooden spoon, her eyes closed and her lips perking. You bounce over and kiss the inviting sight. "Dinner will be done in twenty or so," she says as you sneak your hands behind her and squeeze her big perky butt. She's a bombshell, you love her, and she loves you. You barely remember that mauling your tits together and having her thigh rub up against your dickless crotch.

"You smell of dank deodorant and air freshener, baby," Emily whispers as she breaks from your insistent kiss. "Wash off, change to something more fun and join me for dinner."

"Fine, mom!" you groan as you begin tossing off your shoes while still maintaining your hold of Emily's ass.

"Release the cook or the food will get burned, miss Jameson!" Emily snorted as she begins trying to extract herself from your tenacious grip.

"Fine," you relent with a giggle and let her go back to the stove. She's wearing a pair of soft cotton yoga pants, but you didn't need to see that to feel her jiggly cheeks through the hugging material. "Love you," you say as you retreat to the hallway towards the bathroom.

"Love you too," you hear from the kitchen, making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside as you close the door and begin tossing off your clothes.

You pause as you find yourself naked for the first time. Well, at least the first time for the consciousness that remembers being a guy before turning into a girl. It has felt pretty natural as long as you're not looking at yourself in a mirror, but now that you're here in the flesh, you find yourself at a moment of somewhat neutral lucidity.

You skip off into your bedroom and lie down on your bed, spreading your legs to get as good a look as you can at your womanhood. You're surprised at how much you actually can see, your new body much more athletic and lean than your old slowly chubbing male body. Still, there's no denying your crotch is a bit harder to get a complete visual insight into without a properly placed mirror.

That doesn't stop you from rubbing your new sex all over the place with a pair of fingers. "Fuck, that's a weird feeling," you whisper to yourself as you explore yourself a little. Is it though? You sort of have a lifetime of experience with that, mpfh, hole you just stuffed two fingers into. That nub that you just slid the two wet fingers across. It feels really, really nice, but you realize it's time to get on with it.

Emily is soon going to be done with the dinner and it would be rude to jill yourself off before she gets the chance to, right? How long has it been since you threw that die, by the way? This might be your last chance for the evening to get out of a face full of male wing wong.