[An Account from the PRISM Chronicles]
Chapter 1
And the Answer Is...
Parker Scott felt trapped between the brilliance of passion rewarded and complete surprise. "Mark, would you say that again?"
"Parker Scott," he whispered, "will you marry me?"
"Yes, Mark, oh, yes!"
Each grasped the other and kissed deeply, he crushing her great breasts against his chest, and she feeling overcome with an indescribable happiness that obliterated all the other sadness of her years. Parker stared at the canary diamond that glared hotly from its setting on her left hand, then looked into Mark's eyes.
"Make love to me, Lover. Fill me, own me, just do me so I will never forget it!"
He did just that, first with tenderness, then with near-savagery, finally ending their marathon session with exquisite caresses inside and out. She smiled with satisfaction, knowing that she had been completely ravished.
"Marcus, I am so in love with you, and I believed I could never love another man...until I met you. Thank you for not letting my love with Lauren interfere with us. She is my lover, you will be my husband. And that will make her happier than you have any idea!"
"Parker, thank
you
for not allowing my commitment to her to interfere, either. She and I are lovers; you, precious woman, will be my wife.
Chapter 2
Sweet Memories
Ashwynde Richardson lay comfortably on her office couch following work on Wednesday, relishing the soft touches of her manager, Lauren Campbell. The five-and-a-half foot beauty with the light, smooth flesh deliciously specked with tiny cinnamon freckles had given herself over to Lauren's gentle caresses. As her friend and so-far-secret lover in PRISM Designs whispered compliments on her silky thighs and her completely swollen stem, she allowed her mind to drift back over how she had arrived here.
Ashe, as she was known about the company, never knew her father. He had left her mother, Sybil Richardson, and her to run the mid-size ranch in south Texas; Sybil never wanted to discuss him or how she and her child had come into inheriting the ranch. When she was born her mother had decided never to cut her stunning red hair. As years passed, Sybil's son looked more like a lovely girl than a boy.
Added to this was his development of gynecomastia, a glandular enlargement of a male's breasts. Sybil was surprised when her son told her one day that he enjoyed what was happening to him. He did not want her to get any treatment for this; rather, he had decided that he wanted to be a woman like she was. She conferred with their pediatrician to see if there were any repercussions of such a decision. Rachel had smiled and said, "No, Sybil. I've known a very few boys who wanted to keep their developed breasts. It never hurt them. Some with whom I've kept up have greatly enjoyed them."
Sybil, after considering her son's request at length, decided to press ahead with staged breast augmentation and the transgender change. As time passed, not only did she never regret her decision, she was thankful for it. She arranged for a rename of her son to Ashwynde, an unusual name that conveyed both a mysterious association with something medieval and one that seemed so appropriate for her incredibly heavy growth of gorgeous red hair. It lengthened steadily to a dense, full cascade falling evenly to her waist. Green eyes sparkled with a natural humor, and she had a body much more mature than any nineteen-year-old had a right to possess. Her breasts seemed even larger because of her very prominent nipples that had originated from the gynecomastia years before..
For years Sybil enjoyed sensuous clothing, preferring good quality and very short outfits. One day Ashe watched her sit on a park bench as they halted a stroll. Her mother's skirt hiked up to reveal her pussy, surrounded by a sculptured oval of fur, and pierced with several rings. She was wearing a three-inch chain attached to one of these ring and tipped with a glistening ruby. When she and Ashe had been walking, her daughter could see the chain swinging against her legs below her very short skirt. That was the last time Sybil had been able to convince the girl to wear panties.
By her late teens Ashwynde had decided to go to the University of Missouri to major in archaeology, specializing in new world historical archaeology. Sybil and her daughter had for some time been drifting toward a physical relationship. Ashe had always enjoyed having her mother slide her hand into her blouse and caress her oversized nipples, and this intensified.
Sybil helped her acquire sensuous clothing that would emphasize her legs and breasts. Ashe enjoyed short, pleated skirts because they allowed her penis to harden without revealing that she was as hot as a firecracker. She enjoyed the risk that something might happen to accidentally flip up her skirt, and the sensation of being bare. The only time she wore panties was when she had on a fitted dress. Those times were also memorable, because even a heavy-duty thong did not fully conceal the presence of the enviable, beautiful thing between her thighs.
Her university years were marked by hard work, some humorous dates when her companion discovered that she possessed marvelous added attractions, a couple of interesting times that turned ugly when her guys discovered that the gorgeous redhead had more gifts than they anticipated, several sweet events with other girls and two young men, and a lot of physical training activity. She worked out regularly and developed a running schedule. Frequent visits by Sybil ensured the expansion of their love into a sexual commitment so arousing that neither believed they could experience such pleasure.
When graduation rolled around, Ashwynde was elected
cum laude