Trans-Sexed By The Buddha!


[sex change, sex swap, mutual masturbation, fantasy sex, MF sex, FF sex, transsexual]

Brian wants a change "down there." Bigger, right? Meditation works, sort of. Now he’s a girl down below! His roommate doesn't mind, and gives the new package a daily workout. Brian worries that he's feminizing by the day. He calls his old friend (no benefits) Stacey, who can't believe his story. Then SHE tries meditating and gets trans-sexed! And they become friends with benefits.


      “Hold it, man. Just hold it,” Stacey said. “What you’re saying—no way. That kind of transformation—trust me on this, I know people who have done it—costs tens of thousands of dollars and takes many surgeries. Come on, Brian. Level with me.”
      They had almost polished off a bottle of wine. It wasn’t until the second glass that Brian found the words and told her the reason he had to see her.
      Sighing, he got up. “Okay if I slip into something more comfortable?”
      Two minutes later, he was back. His flannel sleep shirt came mid-thigh.
      “Shaving your legs? Really?”
      Brian sat next to Stacey. “There’s no other way but to show you,” he said, and pulled the shirt up to his waist.
      Stacey pushed his legs apart, her nose inches away from his genitals.
      “This is just incredible,” she said under her breath. “I mean, uncanny.”
      “I know. Bob asked me if I was taking hormones.”
      “Not just that. I’ll have to show you.”
      Stacey wiggled out of her jeans and pushed her thong down. Sliding away from Brian, she spread her legs.
      “Look. Look at me.”
      Brian had skinny dipped with Stacey a couple times. But, unlike in porn, he discovered that in real life women don’t lie around with their legs spread, airing their pussies. Even with their one failed attempt at fucking in his parent’s station wagon, he had no idea what Stacey’s genitals looked like.
      Stacey’s pussy was the mirror image of Brian’s—the puffy outer labia, the petite inner lips barely visible in her unaroused state—a classic clamshell vulva capped with a downy brown bush. Brian even had a mole on his left thigh just like hers.
      “It’s real?” Stacey asked. “It works?”
      “Stacey, I masturbate every day. Three, four times. It is insatiable. It’s a problem, but, jeez, not one that I’m in a big rush to fix. I had no idea chicks had it so good.”
      “Did you show Bob?”
      Brian blushed.
      “No, please, no—tell me it isn’t so. He’s fucking you?"
      “Strictly speaking, he’s fucking my pussy. Bob’s not gay,” Brian said, blotting the shower incident out of his mind. “Hell, I’m not gay. It’s just, well…”
      “How often?”
      “At least twice a day.”
      “What else? I mean, who else?”
      “Hank, the new guy at the shop. He fucks me every night after we close.”
      Stacey slapped her open palm on her forehead. “What if you get pregnant?” She was almost yelling.
      “I guess if I get pregnant, I’ll get rich. Think about it. I’ll be on TV. I’d be the first man in history…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
      She eyed him critically. “So, why are you here? Sounds like things are going just ducky. God knows, your sex life is better than mine.”
      “God, Stacey, I’m still changing. You heard my voice on the phone. Look at my legs. I don’t shave them. Same with my underarms. My ass is round and tight. The more I masturbate and fuck, the more I feminize. And look at this.”
      He unbuttoned the sleep shirt.
      “Oh, baby,” Stacey cooed, her hands moving across his hairless chest. “Oh, they’re so cute! You’re ready for your first training bra!”

Word Count: 8,729

Please Choose:

Shipping & Returns | Privacy Notice | Conditions of Use | Contact Us | Specials | Reviews | Logoff