Last 2 versions of NIS-Donna

Now, really, I wasn't expecting much attention; girls built like me didn't tend to get a lot of attention. Y'see, from my waist up, I am built more like a boy. Almost nothing in the way of breasts, for instance. I truly believe now that my currentl problem came from complaining to my great aunt Gertrude about having my wrong end bloom two years ago.

Don't laugh, all right? Or, at least, not to my face, OK? Y'see, below my waist I'm already *very* womanly even though I'm not quite sixteen yet. Because my tits have refused to grow, though, I didn't have boobs to act as boy bait, so my well-cushioned and contoured derriere was being seen as no more than "fat".

It seems silly but I have heard Queen's "Fat Bottomed Girls" more times than I ever want to have heard it.

So I really wanted some boobs so that I'd get noticed.

You think I'm joking? My dad told me that boobs are well named because boys, when they look at them turn into boobs themselves. I've seen it happen with other girls who got their tits early.

So I'm still a nobody, which is why I got picked for a short week in The Program. My partner, Bob, was another nebbish, like myself. We had been getting along with each other for a while but had never actually gone out on a date.

Well, *he* has dated but I haven't. And all the girls he dated had boobs. Gawd, it seemed like any girl with tits was *way* ahead of me.

I should *never* have claimed that I should have been a boy to my great aunt. I'll get to that in a bit. It's a pity, now, that she passed away shortly before I learned that the family thought she was a witch.

Now, really, I wasn't expecting much attention; girls built like me didn't usually get a lot of attention from the boys. Y'see, from my waist up, I *am* built more like a boy. I had almost nothing in the way of breasts, for instance, though, thankfully, I didn't have broad shoulders to match. I truly believe, now, that my current "real" problem came from my whining and complaining to my great aunt Gertrude over having the wrong end of my body bloom into womanhood two years ago.

Don't laugh, all right? Or, at least, not to my face, OK? Y'see, below my waist I'm already *very* womanly even though I'm not quite sixteen yet. Because my tits have refused to grow, though, I didn't have boobs to swing around as bait for attention from boys, so my well-cushioned and contoured derriere was being seen as no more than "fat".

Darn.

On top of that, I have heard Queen's "Fat Bottomed Girls" more times than I ever want to have heard it. That kind of teasing added insult to injury. So I complained to the most sympathetic of my relatives.

I *really* wanted some boobs so that I'd get noticed.

You think I'm joking? My dad told me that boobs are well named because boys, when they look at a girl's tits, turn into boobs themselves. I've seen it happen for other girls who got real tits.

So I was still a nobody, which, I now believe, is the key reason I got picked for a short week in The Program. My partner for this week, Bob, was another nebbish, just like myself. We had gotten along with each other for a long time but had never actually "clicked" and gone out on a date.

Well, *he* had dated... but I haven't. And all the girls he dated had breasts. Gawd, it seemed like any girl with tits was *way* ahead of me.

*Now* I know I should *never* have whined over the idea that I should have been born a boy, seeing how easy they seemed to have it, to my great aunt. I'll get to why in a little bit, but, it's a pity, now, that she passed away shortly before I learned that the family thought she was a witch.

Yes, I'd adapted quickly. More quickly, in fact, than my Program partner Bob. I was fortunate enough to help him in English class, right after lunch, by providing him relief.

So my day, which I started out dreading and finally got into enjoying, turned into a disaster in Gym. Or, actually, after Gym. Gym was my next-to-last class of the day with only History between the gym and escape from school.

And, yes, even with the day getting better, I was still, very much, looking forward to escaping the school.

Until it was time to shower after Gym.

I guess I should consider myself lucky given the bouncing we had to do in gym class since I wasn't likely to hit myself in the face with my boobs as I've seen other girls suffer.

So I wasn't in a _bad_ mood heading for the showers. I had my towel, and I was already stripped for it. I did have my eyes on quite a few of the boys who'd seen plenty of flesh delivered by The Program and didn't show much interest in my flat chest.

So, yeah, I adapted quickly. More quickly, in fact, than my Program partner Bob. I was fortunate enough to help him in English class, right after lunch, by providing him relief. It didn't hurt that I was learning how to provide a hand job and even some fellatio at the same time.

This was no longer theory but now practice. No matter how much I've read on the subject of sex, I soon came to the conclusion that nothing can beat hands-on learning.

I was getting into the swing of things as my day, which I started out dreading, seemed to be going quite well. I was getting comfortable with my own body which was unexpected. Things were going very, very well for me...

Until gym class.

Actually, *after* gym class. P.E. was my next-to-last class of the day with only History between the gym and escape from school.

And, yes, even with the day having gotten better, I was still, very much, looking forward to escaping the school.

All right, so it wasn't so I could get dressed. I had a workout I was planning for my fingers that I was looking forward to.

So I handled my time in the gym the way I usually would with the various exercises we were doing and my comfort level got better and better waiting for the end of gym class.

Everything seemed to be going swimmingly. I was getting to like being a girl. Everything was going swimmingly.

Until it was time to shower after gym.

I guess I should consider myself lucky given the bouncing we had to do in gym class since I wasn't likely to hit myself in the face with my boobs as I've seen other girls who were in the Program suffer from.

So I wasn't in a _bad_ mood heading for the showers; I was actually feeling pretty good. I was even looking forward to having some fingers on my button during the shower.

I had my towel, and I was already stripped for it. I did have my eyes on quite a few of the boys who'd seen plenty of flesh delivered by The Program and didn't show much interest in my flat chest and it was a wistful feeling that I wasn't equipped to attract their attention.

Boys are stupid. No, boys are *fucking* stupid. I mean it. If it wasn't for that gay bozo Ray I would've been able to keep my dirty little secret a secret.

Now, realize, no one in the girl's shower is masochistic enough to *choose* a cold shower.

What the fuck is it with boys? Ray picked the worst moment possible to move his nozzle just as I was walking past and drenched me with cold water, especially hitting that damned "magic spot" in the middle of my back. That was all it really took, damnit.

If I was really as "normal" a girl as I usually appeared all that would've happened would be me squeaking as my nipples would try to poke eyes out.

Boys are stupid.

No, let me amend that: Boys are *fucking* stupid.

I mean it; If it wasn't for that gay bozo Ray I would've been able to keep my dirty little secret a secret.

Now, realize, no one in the girl's shower is masochistic enough to *choose* cold water for a shower. Even the boys we've had share a shower with us weren't allowed cold water as many girls would take advantage of him.

I wished, for the first time today, that I'd taken some advantage of sharing a shower with a boy. It was strange for me to feel like I'd missed something.

So cold water wasn't something I had a lot of practice with.

What the fuck is it with boys? Ray picked the worst possible moment to move his nozzle just as I was walking past and drenched me with cold water, the cold spray most especially hitting that damned "magic spot" in the middle of my back. That was all it really took, damnit.

I hate magic, did you know that? But, then, I'm the victim of magic, so the level of upset I feel is, perhaps, understandable.

I realize that if I was really a "normal" girl as I usually appeared, all that would've happened would be me squeaking as my nipples would try to poke eyes out.

Between the shock of the cold water and seeing myself as a boy yet again I was seriously pissed off and I screamed.

Between the shock of the cold water and looking down and seeing myself with a dick yet again I was seriously pissed off and I screamed.

"Just get me to hot water, willya!" I yelled at the staring crowd of boys whose peckers were all now noticeably limp.

So I jumped through some sprays until I found a shower that was hot-water enough, had it run across my back, and...

So I jumped through some shower sprays until I found one that was hot-water enough, had it run across my back, and...

I stood in the spray panting, hoping that I hadn't been a boy for long enough to accumulate a real rush of hormones. Testosterone. I could really do without it. I have learned that my female brain is far more sensitive to that damn hormone than my masculine brain is and any testosterone my body produces as a male hangs around when I flip back to my female form.

Yes, I mean that. When I'm a boy the testosterone produced seems to linger, which means that I can get pretty fucking horny when I flip back to being a girl. Usually jilling off for an hour or more suffices to cool my ardor but I was very worried about putting on that kind of show here in the boy's locker room.

Especially considering the time limit.

Irony seems to be a critical part of this "magic" which does *not* calm me much. And I quickly got the hint that I'd been a boy for just long enough, dammit.

I could feel flush of horniness hitting my body, my nipples almost instantly hardening despite the warm water and my clit expanded to a tumescent state, being just over an inch long and getting stretched and rubbed between my swollen labia.

When I get hit like this there is little control, so I ended up in doggy position and, with my words and wiggling of hips I took on 7 of the boys, one after the other, twice, in the short time before the bell rang.

At the end I needed a quick rinse, and, once dry, headed for my last class of the day carrying my towel.

In History class I opted for relief and had Bob, my program partner, do the deed and leaving me with even more semen in my still hot box. He was adorable...

I think he felt better when I thanked him. I admit to not being pleased to discover that he'd lost his virginity some months before today since today had been it for me. I did not realize, yet, that the first of the boys in the shower room *had* been a virgin.

Damn, if only my boobs had arrived. I swear that I'd love to sell the concept to FedEx about making sure you get what is coming to you.

The good news with the shower room orgy seemed to keep any recall of my "boy phase" for that ten to twenty seconds from being recalled.

And I was panting from the shock.

I stood there panting in the spray, re-gathering my wits and hoping that I hadn't been a boy long enough to hit me with a rush of hormones.

Testosterone.

Yes, Testosterone.

I could really do without it. I have learned that *somehow* my "female phase" brain is far more sensitive to that damn "fucking" hormone than my masculine phase' brain is and, it seems, any testosterone my body produced while a male will hang around when I flip back to my female form.

Yes, I mean that. When I'm a boy the testosterone produced seems to linger. That wouldn't be so bad, of course, but the heightened sensitivity of my female brain to the hormone is what makes it tough: I get extremely fucking horny when I flip back to being a girl.

My uncle thinks that I have a lot more receptors for that damn hormone in my brain than would otherwise be "normal" so even a tiny dose of the hormone-- including what my ovaries normally produce, which has been checked-- hits my brain hard, all without growing hair on my chest and face.

Now, jilling off for an hour or so would usually suffice to cool my ardor but I was very worried about putting on that kind of show here in the boy's locker room.

Especially considering the time limit imposed by the need to get to my last class of the day.

So I was *really* hoping that my time "as a boy" today had been short enough that I'd be able to go my way without a sudden need to get myself off.

Now, really, I have also learned that irony seems to be a critical component of any "magic"; you *can't* get something for nothing. And you can take it as read that the basic ironic principle of the universe does *not* calm me much, magic or no magic. I didn't have to wait long before I got the hint that I'd been a boy for just long enough, dammit.

I could feel the sudden flush of horniness hitting me as my brain responded to the stimulus of the left-overs from having had testicles, however shortly. Under the cascade of other hormones, my nipples almost instantly hardened into something capable of poking an eye out even under warm water and my clit expanded to its tumescent state, being just over an inch long and, with the rest of the swelling and lubrication, getting stretched and rubbed between my now slickly thickened labia. My brain and body were suddenly open for business.

And I've *never* been turned on like this in an environment even remotely like the one I was standing in, surrounded by boys who were more than capable to taking care of my libido.

There is little I can do to control my desires-- and my high desire for action-- but I thought I had some control. This control frayed in the presence of the hard dicks around me, calling out my name, just like a box of chocolates in the refrigerator. Resistance crumbled quickly. I was hungry for what these boys could give me.

Paul is one boy I knew from many of my other classes; he was always quiet but had spoken with me quite a bit and, so, in the heat of the moment, I grabbed him, pushed him on the floor, and mounted him.

My first time... and *I* was the one driving. I was the one doing the choosing and pushing and, if I had only known, my "first", Paul wasn't resisting. He smiled up at me before reaching up to play with my stiff and wrinkly nipples.

I have no idea why it worked this way but we came together, and in more ways than one. I kissed him before pulling off of him, got onto my hands and knees, and, with my words and wiggling my womanly hips, soon took on six of the other boys, one after the other, right there in the shower before the bell rang. Don't ask me why but I came every time the dick I had inside me did.

Given what this felt like, I wondered why I'd not been more interested in just picking a boy to jump. I didn't want to stop.

At the end I needed a quick rinse which I shared with Paul, and, once dry, headed for my last class of the day carrying my towel. Paul got a thank-you kiss from me. He thanked me back. It was a *good* kiss and my heart seemed to flutter.

In my following class, History, I opted for relief again and chose Bob, my program partner, to do the deed, leaving me with another load of semen in my still hot box. He was good enough at this that I enjoyed it too, especially since my orgasm arrived when his did.

I think he felt better when I thanked him. I admit to not being pleased to discover that he'd lost his virginity some months before today since today had been it for me. I did not realize, yet, that Paul *had* been a virgin, and that he felt special that I'd chosen him.

I was still uncomfortable having a flat chest no matter how well my nipples could swell up.

Damn, if only my boobs had arrived. I swear that I'd love to sell the ad concept to FedEx about making sure you get what's coming to you.

The good news from pulling a train in the shower room came from a lack of rumor; it was like no one had recalled me in my "boy phase" for that ten to twenty second time period.

He laughed when I growled at him over the phone. "Maybe you will have to be the husband, kiddo!"

Ick. I didn't want to think about this.

Given how I'd gotten popped in a gang bang the day before, I decided to have at least as much fun today and took relief every period I could. I learned after the first three periods that some of the boys, usually the jocks or other of the "popular" set, were fucking useless between my legs. Once I tried them out, I remembered Bob's ability the day before; for a nerd he'd been pretty "fucking" competent. Choosing the more nerdy just before lunch and afterward proved to me how much more attentive they were, even the one virgin I had relieve me.

Lunch was nice sitting on Bob's lap. I wasn't sitting still, of course. I can guarantee that Bob enjoyed it too.

The showering after gym was a lot quieter this time and, since I had less in the way of hormones, I only had two of the boys fuck me under the spray of hot water. Of the two, Paul and Tom, Paul was far more attentive. He'd also been the boy who'd "popped" me the day before, despite my self-inflicted lack of a hymen.

I realized also that I wanted more of Paul since he talked to me between classes and seemed to be looking to me for attention.

So after school Paul and I met and went out to the movies.

I still seemed to get some strange looks undressing in front of the school despite the cold weather. Bob and I got into the warm building with our handy towels and went to our homerooms.

Given how I'd gotten "officially" popped in a gang bang the day before, and how much I had enjoyed fucking, I decided to have at least as much fun today and took relief every period I could. I learned after the first three periods that some of the boys, usually the jocks or other of the "popular" set, were, for the most part, fucking useless between my legs. The one guy with the biggest dick that I tried didn't do much for me; I came when he did, just like every other time, but the rest of me wasn't as ready for it. These guys left me missing Paul and even Bob. And, to be honest, I saw a hurt look on Paul's face in two of my morning classes when I didn't pick him.

So I changed strategy when choosing a helper and, when Paul wasn't available to be selected, I chose the more "nerdy" of the boys. I picked the ones who seldom got picked by other girls who'd gone through the program.

*Damn!*

With the attentions I got from these guys...

It was easy to recommend these guys over the "popular" set.

Lunch was spent sitting, ahem, "bouncing", on Paul's lap. It did wonders for my tolerance of cafeteria food.

This time showering after gym was a lot quieter and, since I had a lot less in the way of hormones, I only had two of the boys fuck me under the spray of hot water. Of the two, Paul and Tom, Paul was far more attentive, and I poured a lot of affection back on him.

I realized also that I wanted more of Paul since he would still walk with me and talk between classes and seemed to be looking to me for attention. We held hands in the hall until our classes pulled us apart.

After school Paul and I arranged to meet and we went out to the movies and then to a diner, on a date. It was his first just like it was mine.

And, for a first date, it was _wonderful_.

Ha!

Physically, he was just about my height, which, given that I feel I am too tall for a girl, wasn't much of a problem. He could have been a bit thinner but then *I* didn't spend much time working out either.

At least he called me and we talked... well, made loving noises... with each other.

At least he called me later that night and we talked... umm, well, we made loving noises to each other on the phone.

Now I'll tell you that, oddly enough, having my brains fucked out made me more intellectually passive but also far more comfortable as knowledge seemed to seep in osmotically. I had now idea that sexual episodes left my mind so open...

This day I was to learn the full measure of my dislike for jocks and other pricks of the "popular" set; apparently my choice of relief partners from the "unpopular" boys in the school wasn't to their liking. Finding out that Lily, a friend of mine, passed on gossip that I'd found the geeks and nerds better able to satisfy my urges, didn't help matters and Roger, one of the boys in my gym class, turned the temperature down on my sprayer as Paul fucked me.

In hindsight, yes, it was obviously a practical joke. In his attempt to cool our ardor by chilling us down, he caused me to flip, the cold spray hitting the vulnerable spot on my back.

Now I'll tell you that, oddly enough, having my brains fucked out before class did tend to make me more passive but also far more comfortable as knowledge seemed to be seeping into my head, almost like osmosis. I had had no idea that the sexual bliss I was feeling could leave my mind so open.

This day I was to learn the full measure of my dislike for jocks and other pricks of the "popular" set; apparently my choice of relief partners from the "unpopular" boys in the school wasn't to their liking. Finding out that Lily, a friend of mine, passed on my recommendation that the "nerds" were better lovers and able to satisfy my urges, didn't help matters. Roger, one of the boys in my gym class, decided to mess with things and turned the temperature down on my shower spray while Paul and I fucked under it.

In hindsight, yes, it was obviously a practical joke. In his attempt to cool our ardor by chilling us down, he caused me to flip, the cold spray easily hitting that one truly vulnerable spot in the middle of my back as Paul pounded in to me while I was in "doggy" position.

I had had no idea that whatever magic my Great Aunt had zapped me with could be contagious.

Well, it was. What with Paul having nowhere for his dick to be in my body, my "curse" spread to him. Now if only I could still ask my Great Aunt...

I'd flipped to being a boy again. Paul, when I looked back in shock, was now a a girl, and, as a girl, he was as pretty as I'd been plain. Like me, his weight didn't change, just the distribution.

I had had no idea that whatever magic my great aunt had zapped me with could be contagious. I was angry and pissed as my vagina disappeared and I felt my hard distended penis swinging.

I stopped swearing wondering what happened to Paul's rod; I didn't feel it *at all* and...

Well, my "curse" was definately contagious. In hindsight, what with Paul having nowhere for his dick to *be* in my body, my "curse" spread to him. Now if only I could still ask my great aunt Gertrude what she was _thinking_...

Here I was, flipped into being a boy again. Paul, when I looked back in worry and shock, was apparently a red-haired girl whose pelvis had just slapped across my butt cheeks.

Paul told me later that he was stunned when he looked down and couldn't see his dick. He admitted to having a problem seeing past his cleavage to realize he didn't have a dick anymore.

Now irony can be a pain, sometimes.

No, irony is almost always uncomfortable.

Paul, as a girl, had the kind of body I'd always wanted. He was as pretty a girl as I'd been plain. Like me, his weight hadn't changed, just the distribution.

I turned the tables, we flipped around, and I popped his brand new vagina's hymen with my virgin dick.

We fucked each others brains out on a bench in the locker room before hunting down hot water which flipped us each back to our "native" forms.

I was there when Paul got teased for being "Ranma". I was wondering if they thought it was Paul who did something to me.

We later fucked each others brains out on a bench in the locker room before hunting down hot water which flipped us each back to our "native" forms so we could get to class.

Our audience was silent.

I was there when the silence ended and Paul got teased for being "Ranma". I was wondering if they thought it was Paul who did something to me instead of my curse hitting him.

Did I ever mention that I hated that anime series? I've seen and read them all and they *never* dealt with this kind of curse in a logical way.

My Uncle Ulysses had taken DNA samples from me in both phases, telling me that my genes didn't vary at all-- but that all of the sperm my male form produced wasn't able to make a boy baby. All of my gametes, despite being sperm, only carried my X chromosomes.

I already knew that Uncle Ulysses would want all kinds of samples from Paul in both phases.

Anyway, when we shifted back in the locker room, he was back to a geeky looking redhead instead of the knock-out flame-haired goddess with big tits he'd just been. When I got under the water I got to flip back to being a plain jane instead of a well-muscled Adonis. My big hips and soft butt paid off when I flipped into male phase.

My Uncle Ulysses had taken DNA samples from me in both phases, telling me that my genes didn't vary at all-- but that all of the sperm my male form produced didn't seem to include any "Y" chromosomes, so, if I had stayed male long enough to impregnate a girl, we wouldn't be able to make a boy baby.

Thinking about Paul's flipping, I knew that my uncle Ulysses would want all kinds of samples from Paul in both phases.

Anyway, when we were shifted back and returned to the locker room, Paul was back to being a geeky looking redhead instead of the knock-out flame-haired goddess with big tits he'd been just minutes before. I'd gotten to flip back to my own "regular" body, a plain jane instead of the well-muscled Adonis I'd previously been. My big hips and soft butt sure paid off when I flipped into male phase.

The cold rain falling made my dressing again problematic as I flipped into being a boy.

Paul saw me as a boy and folded his umbrella so that he'd be washed by the cold rain and *flip* there was a very chesty girl in his clothing. We smiled at each other and he chose to follow me home.

No one else was in the house so we took a warm shower in my bathroom and we fucked each other's brains out with him as a boy and me as a girl.

Sadly, this couldn't last.

After school, the cold rain falling outside made my dressing again problematic as I flipped, once more, into being a boy.

If I hadn't needed to be exposed to the water in the buff, before getting dressed, this wouldn't have been a problem. And now there was no warm water available as I pulled on the sweatsuit I'd worn to school and opened my umbrella.

Paul saw me flip from girl to boy and, in an action that warmed my heart and pushed the chill of the cold water away, he folded his umbrella and allowed the rain to strike him. When I told him where on his back it needed to hit, he reached and pulled up his shirt and let the rain hit him so he'd flip to being a girl. He smiled at me, further warming my heart and hardenining my dick. I smiled back and he also looked as pleased as I felt. It felt even better to me that he agreed to follow me to my home.

No one else was in the house when we got there so we went up to take a hot shower in my bathroom, warming up after being so chilled by the rain. With the flip came the flash of the male hormones and we ended up fucking each other's brains out there in the shower, him as a boy, me as a girl.

This couldn't last, you know.

We dried ourselves and moved to my bed so we could fuck a whole lot more, ending up being caught in this kind of compromising position by my mom.

We eventually dried ourselves off and moved to my bed so we could fuck a whole lot more, ending up being caught in this kind of compromising position by my mom.

At first my folks thought I'd finally decided to go native in my male body.

Hey, I was a lot better looking as a guy than as a girl. I used to explain the sightings which had some of my friends sighing as my "shy cousin". It was strange to think that my male form had my girl friends drooling to such a degree.

All right, so I have to admit that given the blasts of male hormones I've experienced while staying in a male body would certainly get me thinking about jumping the first willing-- or half willing-- girl.

When things calmed down again we showed my mom how Paul flipped when the water temps hitting that magic spot on his back were right... and he flipped at the same water temperature, 81.7 degrees Fahrenheit, as I did, albeit in an opposite phase from me. This flip had me get horny again and he recovered his erection and used it on me some more.

We had some fun the rest of that day, did you know that? We learned that after blowing a load as a boy, just the flip would give whoever was a boy next the ability to immediately regain an erection.

All right, so I have to admit that given the blasts of male hormones I've experienced while staying in a male body would certainly get me thinking about jumping the first willing-- or even half-willing-- girl.

When things calmed down again we showed my mom how Paul flipped when the water temps hitting that magic spot on his back were right... flipping at the same water temperature, 81.7 degrees Fahrenheit, as I did, albeit in an opposite phase from me, finally convinced them.

This flip had me horny again and, with his recovered dick, we put our bodies back together, right away, regardless of any audience.

There is something just so... so... so... I can't explain it. The feelings were mixed, good, confusing and weird, as we fucked our brains out together in front of my folks.

Our audience didn't watch for long before they left my room.

We had fun well into the evening, learning that, when one of us shot a load and went soft, a quick run to flip our sexes would give whoever was flipped to being male the ability to immediately regain and use an erection.

I have to admit that solved a lot of problems for us. It would appear that Paul's folks were worried that he was gay.

Yes, that sound is me snickering. He wasn't interested in doing anything with both of us as boys but he "wanted to go down on me while we were both girls" and added that he'd "like to try 69ing".

So maybe he was something of a lesbian. I sure liked girls whenever *my* brain was addled by testosterone.

Her folks were happy with me and it felt like they thought I was able to walk on water. He sure looked happy.

What really shook me up was that his folks were willing to let him sleep over at my house. When I said that he'd have to share my bed I was told, by his mom, "Fine" and to only send him back when the last of his hormones had been squeezed out.

My expression of shock triggered an explanation: Paul isn't particularly placid surrounded by his family.

"You fucked him out, he's sated, so he's not snarling *and* he's not picking fights with his brothers or sister. *That* is _wonderful_."

It was while we were getting ready to step out that we found out where my folks had gone; the trail of shed clothing started outside my bedroom door and led to their bedroom. By the time we were stepping out it was clear that my parents were sound asleep.

I have to admit that being introduced as Paul's girlfriend solved a lot of problems for him as well as me. It would appear his folks had been worried that he was gay.

It was not easy to suppress the urge to laugh but I just *barely* managed it. Paul's smirk threatened to undo my resistance, though.

Yes, that sound is me trying to keep from snickering. We'd talked while walking to his home and he'd admitted to me that he wasn't interested in doing anything with both of us as boys... but he "wanted to go down on me while we were both girls" adding that he'd "like to try 69ing" if I was willing to do that with a girl.

So maybe he was something of a lesbian. I sure liked girls whenever *my* brain was addled by a dose of testosterone.

His folks were happy with me and it felt like they thought I was able to walk on water. Paul sure looked happy given their obvious approval.

Their approval was more than merely acceptable; it soon was obvious that they were enthusiastically approving of us as a couple, when we were told that I was welcome to sleep with him at his home, and, if my parents agreed, he could sleep over at my house. When I admitted that he'd have to share my bed I was told, by his mom, "Fine" and to only allow him back alone when the last of his hormones had been squeezed out.

My expression of shock triggered an explanation: Paul isn't particularly placid surrounded by his family... and they'd blamed it on how sexually strung out he was.

"We realize you must have fucked his brains out. He's calm, easy to put up with, and obviously sated. He's not snarling at anyone *and* not picking fights with his sisters or one brother. *That* is _wonderful_. He looks so easy to live with right now."

We slept together the first time that night.

After putting together a test protocol, we learned that with us being different genders that sleep fell to the wayside given the opportunity to mix and match.

Before dinner, though, it was suggested that we go up to his room so I could drain him again so he'd be less "twitchy".

Heck, *I* was twitchy. It felt *great* to put our bodies together.

I realize that his folks are *not* deaf, nor are any of his siblings, but no one laughed behind our back or made any kind of remarks about our activity. Before we left, his big sister kissed me on the cheek and thanked me for taming him.

At my house we had dinner again and it was remarked that *I* was a lot calmer than was usual, like a week before.

Maybe there was some real truth here; I was a *lot* calmer and content to let people be.

My uncle Ulysses and his family were over for dinner with us and afterwards he pulled out his black bag. I told Paul what this meant.

The hormone shifts were tough on everyone around us but Paul and I flipped back and forth a couple of times for my uncle so he could get samples from Paul as both Paul and "Paula".

When things finally calmed down, Paul and I slept together for the first time that night. I was hooked on sleeping with someone.

After putting together a test protocol, we learned that, as long as we were different genders, sleep fell to the wayside as we'd fuck our brains out. So we tried some variations.

But, both of us being girls, it was easier to fade out.

We were fading but not before he revealed a secret to me, relating how he'd been afraid of being a boy, since he wasn't "popular", spending a lot of time wondering if girls had it any easier.

He hugged me, his breasts pushed into my back, as he told me that "Now I have the best of both worlds. Thank you sweetheart. I love you."

The electric shock ran through my exhausted body, as powerful as some of the orgasms we'd felt together, with the realization that I was loved.

But, both of us being girls, it was easier to cuddle in comfort and fade out.

We were fading but not before Paul revealed a secret to me, relating how he'd been unhappy with being a boy, given he wasn't "popular", and spent a lot of time wondering if girls had it any easier.

It seemed funny because I thought *boys* had it easier.

He hugged me, his breasts pushed into my back, as he told me that "Now... I have the best of both worlds. Thank you sweetheart. I love you."

An electric shock ran through my exhausted body, as powerful as some of the orgasms we'd felt together, with the realization that I was loved.

It's amazing we got out of bed before noon. All right, so it was only _just_ before noon.

Seriously addictive.

Paul (as "Paula") and I cuddled some more and then he asked me to morph into being a boy so I could fuck him right away.

It's amazing that we ever got out of bed before noon.

All right, so it was only _just_ before noon.

_

Laugh all you want, he was Paula and I was Don for the day. It was nice to wander around but I learned that having balls made shopping for clothes an *annoying* process. My patience was getting ground down despite memories of having *been* the girl going shopping.

By the time we got back to the house in the late afternoon we were ready to fuck our brains out... again.

It's strange to think that my parents saw this as a good thing-- but, then, the words of Paul's mom probably applied to me, too.

I think, though, that I would have become irate had I heard applause from my folks, much less my sibs.

We went to the movies together and met some friends from school. I didn't have all that many, nor did he, but they were far more accepting than I would have believed possible.

I have *no* idea why Megan wanted to know if there was any way either of us could "make her a boy". All I could do was sigh since we had no idea whether it could be done to a girl. Mike, Megan's boyfriend, admitted to wondering what it was like to be a girl, too.

Neither Paul nor I was willing to experiment.

So we demonstrated. After explaining to them what a dose of boy hormones does to me, they handled our uncontrollable fucking like bunnies with a smattering of aplomb. I can't say we were easy on their nerves.

We spent the week as celebrities, further pissing off the popular set.

It took the whole week for people to finally settle down.

And, after learning about what happened to Paul, none of the other "popular" boys wanted to take a chance at fucking me.

So we demonstrated. After explaining to them what a dose of boy hormones does to me, they handled our almost unstoppable fucking as bunnies with more than a little bit of discomfort. It was obvious that the kind of wild sex we had was not easy on their nerves.

Why we didn't get treated as freaks was never clearly explained.

_

We spent the week as celebrities in school, further pissing off the popular set.

It took more than a week for others to finally settle down.

And, after learning about what happened to Paul, none of the other "popular" boys wanted to take a chance at fucking me, as if they were competent enough for me to let them.

I also learned that when I wasn't hungry I was horny. It is *strange* being a boy and I only occasionally had liked *being* one, but Paul helped. Paul has gotten to like his feminine side because he's such a wet dream as a girl.

We also take advantage of our gender flipping as we'd go out together as girls shopping and as two boys for football games. It was strange how having balls makes the game of football more tolerable if not almost interesting.

I also learned that, having balls, when I wasn't hungry I was usually horny. It is *strange* being a boy and I only occasionally had liked *being* one, but Paul helped. Paul has gotten to like his feminine side because he's such a wet dream as a girl.

It didn't hurt that we were pretty openi; he was more than occasionally encouraged to be a girl in the boy's locker room. I enjoyed it when he'd tell me about his experiences and he enjoyed my talking about being a boy in the girl's locker room.

It didn't hurt that we were pretty open; he was occasionally encouraged to be a girl in the boy's locker room. I enjoyed it when he'd tell me about his experiences and he enjoyed my talking about being a boy in the girl's locker room.

I never got real tits. He never got real pecs, either.