...easy like a Sunday morning.

You wake up on Sunday with a fluttering feeling in your belly. You should look forward to this day. You marked it in your calender on Monday, had it in the back of your head all week.

Well. To be honest, maybe less and less in the course of it. You've settled in to your life in your new female body quite well, you guess. You've had some orgasms that were – from other world, nothing your tiny cock could ever have delivered, whole body, long lasting earthquakes compared to the short spurts of cum and spams you had as a man. You've met people you call friends now; have wholly, different relationships with people you knew.

I short, you cannot deny your whole life, sexually, professionally, personally, socially has benefited. You have learned a few lessons for sure. Touch the gem around your neck. Well. You think. Maybe? Did the choices you made this week lead you to being a better – person? Woman? How would they make you a better man? All that is better is because you are a woman. Why would you want to be a man again. Just to get the embarrassingly tiny dick and no less embarrassingly huge ego back?

You look at your naked reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Not to forget the body. It's strong, you love being in it, you love the reactions other people have to it. You feel a lot more comfortable in it than you ever did in that male body. As if you were never really made for the old y-chromosome. You enjoyed pussy AND cocks. If you become a man again there's now way you won't be at least bisexual.

Stupid. You are a man. Never had an urge to become a woman before – this all happened.

Or did you.

Deep inside?

Hidden even from yourself?

The voice of Alexander rejects the idea. Your hands wandering over your tits, your belly and your clit in front of the mirror drowns him out. You’re all female in this moment and so many moments this week. So female that listening to a male inside you seems silly.

You put a hand against the mirror to support yourself as you cum from your touches. Not earth shattering. But softly, warmly, gently. Another thing. Such a variety of orgasms. You only know exactly Two modes when you were a man – full short spurt, unsatisfyingly short ant tiring, and an embarrassing trickle when you whacked off in frustration or to kill time. Your female orgasms reach from a gentle tingle like this to multiple mind breaking explosions. All good. All BETTER.

You lick your fingers. Hell. You even taste better.

You shake you head. You still can’t make this decision, yet. You have all day.

Get into the shower – a cold one, to get you down, have a long breakfast and distract yourself with doing noting and everything, read, play, watch TV, masturbating few more time.

As noon arrives, you're glad to have the chance for some real distraction for the rest of the day. It's Sunday, watching football with the guys is on the schedule as always. You've checked, made sure that as a woman you’re still part of the gang. You are. Naturally, as if nothing happened and it’s perfectly normal that a woman watches football with three guys ever week. And it is, these days. And one of them was your best friend since high school. Was and still is.

You open your closet to pick out your usual Sunday outfit, which of course is everything but usual for your new self. You frown. You bought so many new sexy womanly clothes this week you completely forgot this one. The jersey you always worth is a man is too baggy, it feels REALLY wrong to wear anything this lose and hide your new body. You've really gotten used to revealing clothes. And this may be your last day in this body. The thought makes you shiver.

You still have time, before going to your friends to make a detour to a sportswear shop and buy the last piece of women's clothing you get this week. The last one forever? Or maybe just the end of the first one week shopping spree of many, if you stay in this body. You look yourself in the changing room mirror and nod. Much better. You wear one of your own white shorts – hot pants in fact, and Sneakers, and the new top as your sporty outfit. In team colours and with the team logo, of course, but it has Spaghetti Straps, a bare midriff, and maybe a size too small hugging you C-cups a bit too tightly. Perfect.

You walk to your best buddy's house and ring the doorbell. As he opens, you see a slight fraction of a confused second in his face. The outfit is new. He’s never seen you in it. Never seen you at all, in this your new reality as a woman. You just talked on the phone. But of course for his memories you've always been a woman - and always a hot and sexy one. So he should be used to the sight of his best childhood buddy in flimsy clothes. His memories seem to collide with his base instincts, resulting in him staring at you open mouthed. You break the ice and hug him.

“Hi, there!”

“Uhm… Hi… come on in, everyone's already here. You…”

He looks down at you.

“You look great.”

You mock a frown.

“In this old thing? I wear that every time we watch football, don’t I?"

He frowns. Of course you didn't and yet you did. In this reality, you must have. You punch his shoulder playfully to distract his thoughts, you might break him of he thinks about it too long.

Everyone already IS here, you're a bit late due to your shopping trip. You bend over both men and kiss their cheek, feeling one of them letting his hand wander onto your ass. Apparently these two – which you’ve met via your best buddy and only meet for football once a week, seem to have less problems combing your new hot female self with being watch buddies. You smile at him, before you turn around and go to your buddy in the kitchen to get a beer.

“How have you been doing?”

He sounds genuinely interested.

"Had an – interesting week. Quite some – changes…”

“Really? How so?”

You hesitate. Sigh.

“I … It’s.. a little complicated. And still not... conclusive. I’ll know a lot more tomorrow…”

You will. And you don't want to think about that, right now, really.

He nods, sensing your hesitation and respecting it.

“Well, wherever you want to talk, I'm here”

“I know. Thanks, buddy!”

You hug him tightly.

And you DO know. Which is new, too. You were buddies. With all that word implies., for males. Which also means, maybe not friends in the actual meaning. You don't think you ever talked to him about anything deep or meaningful. You hung out, watched football, played video games. What guys do. You have a intuitive gut feeling, you're relationship to him now – is different. Which is weird.

Men and women may be friends… maybe… but can this be a more meaningful friendship in this reality, JUST because you're a woman? More important? You can't deny most things feel like that in the last week. You being a woman brought a lot more meaning into this life. And apparently being best friends with a woman made your buddy more empathic and emotionally available. Good for him.

You take a sip of your beer. Thank goodness you didn't tun into a women who doesn’t like beer. You LOVE girly drinks, too - in fact regret how much you missed out on the opportunity of cocktails as a self proclaimed tough guy. But beer is good, too.

“The Game is STARTING! Get over here, you lovebirds!”

You feel yourself blushing, but apparently your buddy seems to find nothing weird about that term. Seems the male teasing is still taking place even with you as woman. Just with other – terminologies and implications.

You two walk into the living room. The two sit on the couch and your buddy takes a set in his usual armchair, it's his house, he gets the seat of honour. As a guy… You'd have pressed your ass into there with the two men on the couch, it’s a three seater, technically but has always been too small, really. Which was Okay. When you were all men. You lick your lips. Do you sit in between the two guys now, too? That might be -weird. But they would remember it being normals. But other than that that only seat free is - your best buddy's lap...