You Give In. Then He Kills the Mood. Go Figure.

It's too much for you. You can't continue living like this. This is your chance to end it. With your best friend, you can end it, right now. For a long moment, you don't say anything, the weight of the decision settling down on you, your whole body seeming to grow heavier: hips, breasts, stomach, hair, hands, feet, fingers and toes. If you don't say something now, your choice will be taken away.

“Isaac,” You say, looking up into his eyes. “Cum inside me.”

He stares at you, eyes wide, and he pauses in mid thrust. You can feel him within you, a warm, hard presence that feels like coming home. "Are you sure?" he asks.

“I've been stuck between male and female for as long as I can remember," you say. "I'm tired. I don’t want to live like this any more. I don't want to be like this anymore. If I have to choose, I choose this. With you. Right now." You take a breath, and then let it out slowly. "... I choose to be a woman. Forever.”

Isaac gets this perverse grin on his face as he looks down at you. "I always knew you were a slut," he says.

... Wait, what? Did he just call you a slut? Apparently because you agreed to have sex with him? Does he even know what the word means?

You feel a stab of irritation. "Just do it already," you say.

"Easy, girl," he says, slowly withdrawing that warmth, that hardness from your core until his cock slips free. ... You feel empty without it. "No need to hurry. I've got plenty of time to make you into my personal whore."

...
And just like that, he's killed the mood. It still feels good, and you're still wet, but that fevered need is gone like someone flipped a switch in your head. You give him an incredulous look. "... the fuck you say?"

"You heard me," he says. "I'm gonna knock you up on this couch, you slut."

You let out an annoyed sigh as you prepare to push him off. "OK," you say. "I think we're done here."