Rain woke me. Big, fat drops of decidedly rude water, splatting against my window. I blinked away sleep and peered about in confusion at the familiar setting. The faint shifting of my breasts as I rolled made sure I knew the change hadn't been a dream. Thanks, tits.
My room had gotten darker as I slept. I don't mean a small amount, like the clouds had come over. I meant as in I'd slept for hours and the sun was now setting. Crap. I shoved off the duvet and sat up. It was nearly seven in the evening, I'd slept for fricking hours. Dammit. I had... well, I had no great plans but still. Grr! Bad body, sleeping and resting like that.
An odd, flakiness between my legs reminded me of my antics. I flicked on the bedside lamp. Yup, there was dried cum, both Dan's and mine, over my thighs and pussy. I probably smelt a bit ripe too. I stood up and reached for my towel to go, grab a shower. Fucking hell, did I really used to rub myself dry with this thing? It had been worn over the years, the soft fabric turned rough and, ugh, it smelt. I dropped it, grabbed a hand towel that I'd barely used (as Erik, I'd just shower if I was dirty) and headed across the landing to the bathroom.
Naked.
In a guys house.
Oops.
Thankfully the path was empty and I quickly locked the door behind me. One swift whore's bath and a use of a borrowed comb later had me listening at the door for the opportunity to get my naked butt back into Erik's room to dress. It sounded clear, I took the chance.
I was almost home free when Joe stepped out in front of me. He glanced at my tits, grinning like he'd just caught a naked slut running about in his house. Bloody nerve of that guy. I felt my cheeks warm but I resolutely refused to cover up my body.
"Hi Kat." He greeted my chest. Damn, those women were right. It was fucking annoying. Who knew. Now I crossed my arms under my knockers.
"Yeah, hi. Get out the way and stop staring now?"
"Huh? Crap, gotcha, soz." He stepped aside and, really, did not look sorry in the slightest. He says really says 'soz', lol and lmao too, Dan and I mock him for it. Mocked him for it. Whatever. I slipped past him and, on impulse, smacked his arse as I did so. He looked so astonished at me I couldn't help but laugh in his face as I shut the door.
Well, he'd had a view of my tits, I could treat him like a piece of ass too. I feel perfectly justified in my actions. I was perfectly entitled to treat a man like an ob.. ject... I stilled as I realised what I had just thought. Was I really that comfortable being female already? Fuck no. I wanted my body back. I wanted my solid chest, washboard abs, my cock, I wanted-
Shoving the thought aside, I silently dressed with a mental prayer of thanks that I didn't have to figure out a bra or worse, tights. I was done here. I snatched up the charger and thrust it into my bag. My other shit could wait, right. That cologne? It'd be binned. Clothes wouldn't fit, charity for them I guess. Condoms? Okay, those I could still use and grabbed them before I could think too much about it. I stared at vestiges of my life and felt the need for something profound.
I had nothing. "Fuck it," I muttered and left.
The Cactus hadn't moved. Of course it hadn't. That thing is so ugly I could have left the doors open and key in the ignition and still come back to it hours later. I rushed to it through the rain, tossing my bag into the back as I slipped into the driver's seat. I very precisely picked up my list, carefully put a line through points four and seven before placing it on the passenger seat. Then, I went limp. My arms fell into my lap and my head thumped back into the headrest, letting me stare up at the rain hitting the oversized sunroof.
Holy. Fuck.
I'd done it. More than done it. Double done it. Menage-a-done-it. Ticked off two lines of my list. Fuck, three lines. I had a name too. That realisation brought a startled laugh from me. I had no clue why I thought of Katja but it was both a scandinavian name and belonged to no one I knew. I would always confess to the second reason, but I'd sooner gnaw off my hand at the wrist than admit that the first - and it's connection to my birth mum - had a special meaning for me.
Well, sitting here on my arse did nothing. I could think and drive well enough. I grabbed my phone, found the old message and typed Jenny's address into the inbuilt satnav. A perk of sleeping so late meant I had missed the commuter traffic and should be at her place in under an hour. I shrugged, started the car and pulled away.
I was driving as it really began to sink in. I had had sex with my two closest friends whilst lying to them about who I was. My cunt and throat were reminding me with a shared, lingering soreness that I'd been ignoring.
I had fucked men. Willingly. Hell, more than fucked. I had started and led the encounter. Just days ago, sex with another man was as alien to me as the jiggling of my tits. Now I had spread my legs, opened my mouth and told them to get in me.
That was... well, it was fucking enormous. I was bi. Men, women. Didn't matter, I'd fuck them, let them shoot down my throat or...
Crap. I needed to get a morning after pill. Did that need a prescription? If so, I was fucked (ha bloody ha, pun was so not in-fucking-tended). Katya didn't exist to get a prescription. I racked my mind but no answer came. I'd not paid attention to that in sex ed, dismissing it as 'for girls to worry about'. Irony, you're a cruel bitch at times. Maybe Jenny would know. You know, Jenny. Jenny my friend. Jenny, the lesbian who had never slept with a guy. If I hadn't been driving I would have headbutted the steering wheel. Calm thoughts were needed and in short supply. Damn, that fuck was supposed to help clear my head, not mess it up more.
I focused on the road instead, reducing my world to me, the motorists and the computer woman guiding my route. That I could handle, the only noticeable change to driving was the seat belt digging into my tit. A quick adjustment sorted that out. It worked, the drive was uneventful and I soon found myself pulling up to a string of terraced two-up, two-down houses in York. Jenny lived further back on the left somewhere but parking was difficult and this closest spot I found. I double checked her house number, put the cap on the pen, placed it and the pad away, checked my hair and realised that I was procrastinating like a pro.
Get a grip of yourself. Things might be weird as hell but this is Jenny. It'll figure itself out. Right?
I still did one last check before I left the car and, huddled against the drizzle, hurried to her door. I knocked. Waited, knocked again and heard a distant "Just a minute".
The door was opened by a Greek goddess wrapped in lace and silk. She was tall, taller than me without the rise of the step she stood on. Her hair was even shorter than mine, bright purple and twisted to her left as if windswept. She had a strong jaw, clear skin and stunning baby blues.
Her arms and shoulders... crap, she was easily stronger than I had been as Erik and, while not bulging, she had a fluid power in those smooth limbs that made me sure she could toss me over the house had she wanted. Ever seen a classic Greek sculpture? If not, look one up. In them, you can see both power and femininity in curves of their bodies, strength and softness. This woman epitomised this concept, as if a masterpiece had taken a breath and dyed its hair. I felt like a twiglet in comparison.
I could see the peaks of her nipples on her D cups through the fabric, as well as the hoops she had piercing each. Her body was swathed in a kimono, black with dragons swirling through it. She hadn't bothered to tie it. Her lips, coloured a rich red, were moving as if she were talking... oh crap. She was talking.
"Uh... I... I... Jenny?" Great. Now I'd forgotten how to speak.
Her lack of amusement was clear. "Jenny is indisposed. Try calling her next time, I hear phones have that function." Okay, so her body might have been sculpted by Michelangelo but her voice was nothing remarkable and the dripping condescension set my hackles to kill.
"Do I look like I care?" Aggression, it always helps, right? I raised my voice "She can fucking well get un-indisposed for me." She started to close the door. I got in the way, but I knew there's no way I could beat her natural strength. Time for desperate measures. "JENNY! It's..." shit, she didn't know my name yet. I cringed inwardly, "It's Erika, I need to-"
I yelped as the door was yanked open. I was too off balance to even think of stopping her from grabbing a fistful of my shirt, dragging me inside and slamming me into the wall.
"So you're the slut she fucked? And you dare turn up here?" She did not shout. Instead, her voice had turned so cold that I expected to see it frost the air. "Well?"
I wasn't too scared to answer. Honestly, in everything you've read about me, have I ever backed down? Between the pressure pinning me to the wall and the air gone from my lungs at the impact, I couldn't answer and that lack of response, apparently, was wrong. I didn't see her move, just heard the crack of her blow and the burst of pain from my cheek.
Shit. Slapped? Really?
"Answer me! Why are you here?" She'd hit me yet still she didn't shout. I blinked at her, struggling against her pin with both hands but she had the advantage of height, weight and position and used it well.
"Bethan! Please, put her down." Jenny's voice had never been so welcome. I glanced at the doorway and lost the pitiful dregs of air I had sucked in.
Jenny was in full goth make up, had her tits out and her nipple piercings (damn, I wish I'd gotten her bra off when she fucked me) linked by a chain, complete weights hanging down from the centre. She wore a pvc half corset, black knickers, fishnets and knee high boots. Her shoulders were pulled back weirdly, arms behind her back. Her dark hair hung loose, almost reaching her nippples. In my wildest fantasies she had never looked as hot as she did now. Even pinned and beaten by her jealous girlfriend (yep, I'd gotten there), I felt a deep kick of desire pulse out from my clit.
Bethan gave her a narrow eyed glare, unmoved by her appeal or hotness (further evidence for my goddess theory, she clearly had to be inhuman). "Oh I don't think so. You know your place, Jennifer, and it does not involve ordering me." Her voice was crisp, each word clipped short and I swear that glare of hers could freeze Mount St Helens. She clearly comfortable as queen bitch in this house and that did not sit well with me. Nothing about this sat well with me and it was time to fuck things up as only I could.
"No, bitch, her place is eating my cunt." I wheezed out. Her head whipped back to me, anger flashing in her eyes. I grinned at her.
"You... YOU..." She spluttered, drawing her arm back, fist clenched to slam into my guts. I clenched my stomach muscles, knowing there was little else I could do against the blow.
Pissing people off, it's a gift.
I'm not sure who was the most surprised when Jenny drove her shoulder into Bethan: me, Bethan or Jenny herself. I staggered at the sudden release and gasped in that wonderful oxygen stuff we like so much. Bethan grabbed at the cuffs I could now see bound Jenny's hands and spun her into the sofa. Then she rounded on me. At least I'd had a chance to breath.
Great, awake and functioning for less than a day and I'm in a full on bitch fight. I drew myself up - I was still nearly half a foot shorter than her - and raised my fists ready.
"Fuck's sake STOP!" We ignored Jenny and went at it. I hit her shoulder, she accepted it with a grunt, slid her left arm in a way I hadn't expected and got me in a lock, shoulders touching and fronts exposed, my left arm free, her right arm free. Shit, this girl knew how to fight far better than I did. She drove her fist at me, I blocked badly and my arm went numb to the elbow. Crap.
