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Note To The Reader:
This story will include the changing of sex.
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Six Years Ago
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I married the love of my life. Sarah had this way of turning the ordinary into magic, and I never realized how much joy could live in the little things. We've danced barefoot in the kitchen to old jazz tunes, made late-night grocery runs just because we wanted ice cream, and drove around with no destination in mind, just enjoying the freedom of being together.
She was more than a best friend and a blissful adventure all at once. I caught myself looking at her sometimes, trying to figure out how I got so lucky, only to see her looking back and me, with those same eyes. Adoring me, just as I adored her. I couldn't believe how someone as kind and beautiful as Sarah fell in love with someone like me. I didn't think I would ever get used to the way she smiles when I called her my wife, or how she instinctively reached for my hand whenever we walked side by side. Even a simple restaurant became a five star feast with her company.
Our love making was passionate and deep. I called it love making and not fucking, because with Sarah it was a form of deep love. We passionately stared into each others eyes and held each other long after the deep excitement of a good fuck was done.
That's how it started. But what starts well doesn't always end well.
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Two years Ago
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I sat alone in my man cave playing the newest counter-strike. I'd been grinding the new first person shooter hard for the last few months. It consumed most of my non-working time.
When I dove into multiplayer games, I was immediately swept up in the adrenaline rush of fast-paced action, where every decision can mean the difference between victory and defeat. The thrill of honing my skills and mastering new tactics kept me coming back for more, like an addictive craving for that satisfying moment of a perfectly executed headshot. I stayed up late, skipping sleep and even sex to chase my addiction.
Each match feels like a unique challenge, drawing me into an immersive world where I could escape reality and engage in epic battles.
"Get the fuck out if you don't know how to play," I shouted into my headset. The people on my team were such idiots and had no idea how to win at this game. As another player on my team was killed I knew we were losing. If I lost to the rage inside of me, I would need to play another game. I gotta end on a win.
There was a knock on the door. Loud. I heard the door open.
Fuck. It was my wife, Sarah. She was going to interrupt my gaming session. I needed to find a way to tell her to fuck off that wouldn't piss her off.
Sarah was tall, about five foot ten, with long brown hair and a shapely body. She had great boobs and a face I'd always found beautiful. Though I had dropped working out, she maintained her body in great physical condition. She ran, she swam and socially, she was the life of the party.
My friends asked how a simple guy like me could be with such a great girl. I knew though. We used to click. But that was years ago, and now I had a new love.
She was now in the way a bit. Don't get me wrong, I still loved her and wanted to be with her, but I wanted other things too. It was like she didn't know how to give me any space. Always so fucking needy. We used to fuck so passionately, she could be a demon in bed, and it made me horny thinking about it, but recently she'd been cold. Like something was bothering her that I couldn't put my finger on.
"Hey Rob," she said in her lovely sing-song voice, "come on. We should go out for sushi."
I didn't want to go for fuckin' sushi. Why couldn't she cook a meal or something. "I can't now hon', I'm in the middle of a game," I shouted carelessly, without even looking over my shoulder. "Why don't you cook up some of that chicken and bring me some here. I can just eat and play."
Then she got pissy. Oh here we go. She walked over to my console and shut the game off.
"Babe, I was in the middle of that!" I shouted. "Why don't you fucking give me some space. I don't want any sushi! I've had a fucking hard enough day at work and I don't need to get into another fucking pissing match here. Stupid bitch!"
I'd never called her a bitch before and I just knew that now she was going to blow up at me. It was going to be a whole fucking thing that would ruin the whole evening, just like the other times this happened.
She didn't though. She just nodded her head, turned around silently and walked out.
As she left, I thought I'd heard her say, in a sort of disappointed mumble, "So this is how a wish is granted." What the hell did that mean?
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One Year Ago
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The divorce with Sarah had been a bitter ride for me. There were the court hearings. Lawyer's bills ate up any equity I had in the house, so yeah, that was gone. Fortunately for me, I make decent money. Unfortunately that ended up making me a bitch to alimony. What am I? A fucking slave that has to work for someone that I'm not even married to? Fuck the courts.
On that last day in court though, Sarah, unlike me, looked like she had regained the vibrant liveliness she'd had when we'd first met. She practically bounced out of our last court hearing and just as she was bouncing out of my life.
I hadn't seen her in a year. And though I was vaguely cognisant that I'd brought this on myself in some way, I just couldn't get over it. How did it come to this? I missed her every day. Every day.
Things weren't going too well for me, I'd put on weight, and in general, I hadn't been taking care of myself. I knew I'd get my life back together eventually... eventually. The stress was causing me to lose some hair and I was slowly balding. I looked like shit.
I'd tried dating apps, and though I met some great girls, most of them seemed to only want a free dinner. Nothing really stuck and it didn't help that I would compare them to Sarah in my mind.
I couldn't recognize that me being a downer might have been a big turn off to these women. No one really made me open up the way Sarah had. I mean the Sarah when we first dated, not the bitchy Sarah that just argued with me later in the marriage.
So yeah. That was me: fat, messy, balding and alone.
Since Sarah made all the meals, now, I'd started living on a combination of fast food and junk food. It was great at first but now each french fry made me feel like crap. Living alone in an apartment and grinding lots of games didn't help either.
What I wasn't prepared for most of all was the loneliness. Just me in a shitty apartment, eating shitty food all alone.
Fortunately tonight would be a little different. I was meeting my friend and co-worker, Gerald. He was a stand up guy, and we'd become close. When I was a mess during the divorce, he'd been a shoulder to cry on, to the extent that two straight men have that sort of relationship.
One thing we'd had in common was that we'd both been through a divorce. Whereas I had gotten divorced for ignoring my wife, he had been in a completely wonderful relationship, that is until his wife had an affair.
She'd begged for forgiveness, and he'd given it a thought, stand up guy that he is. But the trust he'd had was now long gone. So Gerald decided on the divorce. He said he just needed to move on for his own peace of mind.
"Hey buddy," he said, waving to me.
The dimly lit bar had a warm, inviting atmosphere, with soft jazz playing in the background and a few patrons scattered around polished wood tables. Shadows dance on the walls, and the rich scent of aged whiskey mingled with the faint aroma of deep fried bar food. As we settled into a cozy booth, the low murmur of conversation created a comfortable bubble, allowing us to really talk without interruption.
Conversation came easy between the two of us. We'd bitched a little about our women troubles in the past, but I was a year out from my divorce, and it was two years for him. So our conversation focused on sports, work and jokes.
"I finally figured out why we get along so well at work," he said.
"Oh really? Why's that?"
"Because we both know how to expertly avoid doing actual work!"
We both laughed. It wasn't true though, he was a worker and crazy effective. Everyone in the office loved him and how warm and thoughtful he was. I wish I had that rapport with my coworkers. Women were stand-offish and men were professionally polite. Gerald was the only one I really bonded with.
As the minutes became hours we were getting ready to leave, when his eyes suddenly went wide and he stopped. He just got that deer in the headlights look as though his brain was trying to process something unexpected.
"What?" I said, seeing that he was nervous.
He silently pointed to the doorway. I turned, realizing I would recognize that body and face anywhere. It was Sarah. It was fucking Sarah! I hadn't seen her in a year. Yep exactly a full year to the day since she walked out of the courtroom, since she walked out of my life. I thought I would never see her again as she had made that fairly clear by ghosting me.
She sauntered in with the kind of presence that turns heads without meaning to, her long brown hair falling in loose waves down her back, catching the bar's low light like strands of silk. She was dressed simply but elegantly in a dark knee length blue pleated skirt with a soft sweater. She carried an air of quiet confidence that pulled the air from my throat. Time had not dimmed her beauty. If anything she was more alluring than ever.
When her gaze drifted across the room and briefly met mine, our eyes locked and pulled memories of old conversations and moments lost. She offered a faint, knowing smile, a silent acknowledgment, before walking directly towards me. It was as if nothing had changed--and yet, somehow, everything had.
Her hips swayed, as she approached my table, seducing me with her movement. Pulling my eyes toward her lovely hips. Round, and oh so fit. How had she become even more beautiful? I pondered the question, but there was no answer.
Gerald and I were frozen with our mouths agape. He broke the spell first, turning towards me.
