Knee-length or longer skirts it was then, not that she had a lot of short ones, even so, she was annoyed.
She found herself sitting knees apart, in a way that felt wrong to her, and in her mind looked somewhat masculine. She sighed and did her best to ignore her new anatomy and get down to literary criticism.
Hours later her stomach and bladder were letting her know she had other matters that needed attending. She stood walking along the narrow space between her desk and bed towards the door. She opened the door to the side that led to the bathroom that was shared with the neighbouring room and stepped in.
She locked the door to the other dorm room and was about to sit down on the toilet before remembering she had new equipment and other options. She hesitated, she didn't want to have to clean up if she had aim trouble.
One perk of the building her dorm room was in was proper bathtubs, which was also why there wasn't much floor space. The length of her room in the half footprint of the bathroom past it was almost entirely taken up by her single bed, what wasn't was a closet space. So she was facing the tub. Which gave her an idea.
She stepped into the tub. She lifted her skirt and looked at the boxers, she slipped her hand into the fly at the front. It surprised her how much fabric was behind it, her finger had to go past her penis to get around it. She managed to pull her penis out through the fly, which felt very strange and awkward.
She held her penis between her thumb and forefinger and pointed it at the drain. She relaxed the way she was used to and pee went in two directions. She was immediately glad she was standing in the tub, one stream hit the wall beside her and the other was hitting near the top of the side of the tub. She managed to keep from getting any on the floor as the streams shifted as she went and then merged. Once she had only one stream she started trying to hit the drain. She started getting the hang of it as she ran out of pressure. The stream turned to a dribble and stopped. She was glad the shower head was detachable; it made clean-up a lot easier.
Chris had warned her that this could happen, especially after orgasm. He hadn't said she might have a split stream that could miss the toilet on both sides.
It would likely be awhile before she would be confident enough to just use a toilet standing up.
Chris pulled his bra over his head. It had felt nice to let his skin breathe; the bra offered little support, and it pushed his breasts together. Now that they were sitting more naturally, apart, the feeling of fresh air against the space between them was pleasant. It was also nice to not feel them being compressed, and the relief of the pressure of the band on his chest just below his boobs felt great, like getting his feet out of over-tightened boots after a long day. What wasn't nice was feeling their full weight pulling on his shoulders and chest again. They were heavy, and even the limited support the cheap bra offered made a difference. It had been quite the feeling when he pulled the band out from his body and his boobs fell out.
He lifted the bra in his hand. He thought about putting it back on but decided against it, at least for now. I'll try sleeping tonight without it, he thought, laying down ought to deal with most of the weight. He tossed the bra into his laundry basket with his shirt.
Chris pulled his pants and underwear down, he felt his boobs swing as he bent. He straightened and looked down at himself. Boobs: most of what he could see was boobs. He sighed and kicked his pants and underwear the rest of the way off. He still had to get his socks off, but he couldn't see them, as his boobs hid his feet from him at this angle. A slight lean and he could see one or the other by looking between his boobs. He sat on his bed and bent again, feeling his boobs swing and move; this time they were pushed against his knees and up to his chin. Everything he did, they moved.
He pulled his socks off with his boobs against his neck, and while he was in reach of the floor, he grabbed his underwear. He tossed them with the rest of his dirty clothes. He stood and walked over to his dresser, even more aware of the weight and motion of his bust than he had been all afternoon and evening. At least his boobs had mostly distracted him all day from the strange sensation of having a female reproductive system.
He pulled out a pair of pyjama pants and then hesitated. He wondered if he should start wearing a shirt to bed now that he had boobs. The dorm building had a very finicky fire alarm; if it went off tonight, it wouldn't be the first time he'd ended up outside in the middle of the night. Which left the question, did he need to have his chest covered?
He didn't really like the idea of needing to cover up his chest like a woman, but he had boobs, and imagining how people would see him being topless made him even more uncomfortable. So he had to cover up. He didn't like it, but he couldn't see people not reacting to his bare boobs the same way they'd react to say Brianna's. That was going to take some getting used to, even constantly aware of the unfamiliar feelings of his boobs as he was for now, he knew he wouldn't feel a reflex desire to cover his chest if someone walked in the way a woman does, at least for now. He didn't like the idea of developing that reflex.
He sighed and grabbed a T-shirt.
Putting his pants on was another experience of his boobs jiggling, swaying and pulling on him as he bent and moved. He felt the shirt tight over his bust after putting it on; he knew he was stretching it out, but it wasn't like his boobs were going anywhere. He'd made sure to grab one of the softest shirts he owned to stop too much sensation and discomfort from rubbing on his nipples. It seemed to work as he walked back to the bedβstill too much bounce for him to ever consider not wearing a bra during the day, but it was fine for sleeping.
The little walk reminded him he was six stories up; if the fire alarm went off, he'd be jiggling his way down the stairs, holding his boobs. He shuddered. He didn't want to wear the bra to bed, it definitely felt good to have it off, to let his skin breathe, to not be squeezed by the band, to let his boobs be uncompressed and not held against each other. Well, it had only happened twice last semester... it wasn't likely to happen again. He tried not to think about it as he got into his bed.
He turned out the bedside light, lay on his back and pulled the sheets over himself. It was nice to let some of the skin under the bottom of his bust where they had been held against him all day get out from under them for a bit. He could feel his breasts spread out as they settled on his chest, a little going into his armpits, their weight pushing down on him. It felt very odd; he cupped them and moved them around a little, but the weight felt like a lot pushing on his chest. It didn't feel suffocating, as he mostly breathed with his stomach, but it got him to roll onto his front.
Here,his breasts were squished by his body. It didn't hurt, but he also didn't really like how it felt, and the size of his breasts put his neck and back into an odd curve.
He tried his side, his boobs piled on top of each other, the bottom one bearing the weight of the top. They were pressed against each other again, denying air to the skin of the inner sides of his breasts and along his sternum.
He tossed and turned trying to find a comfortable position. Eventually, he sat up and thought for a bit. He went back over to his dresser and got a clean pair of socks, got back into bed and rolled onto his side. He lifted the top boob through his shirt and shoved the socks rolled together between his boobs. It solved part of his problem, and after a while, he fell asleep.
Brianna pulled up her pyjama pants, the feeling of her penis in them was a little strange. She looked down; the bulge was obvious. They weren't exactly tight; she was surprised how much her bulge showed in them, at least when she didn't have an erection, that would show in any pants she wore.
She took a few steps. The sensation of her male bits moving around inside her pants was a little odd. Very different from when she was wearing a skirt with no underwear, much more contact between her junk and the fabric.
She got into bed and rolled over onto her side in her usual position. Top leg bent, bottom leg straight, but she found her balls were pushed around and against her thigh. It didn't hurt, but it felt weird and made her very aware of her new anatomy.