The New Me Ch. 04

After Danny had left the house that last night, we were exhausted but not too tired for some more early morning sexual acrobatics. So much so, that the sun was rising before we finally fell into a shattered, sore sleep.

Mikey had already woken by the time I regained consciousness, and the aroma of freshly brewing coffee permeated the house, dragging me out of my stupor. I yawned and stretched, muscles twanging and soft tissue groaning gently. Memories of the previous night's wildness came trickling into my oddly calm mind, and I nodded to myself, content in the knowledge that what had happened was something I could be,,, if not proud of, then at least comfortable with.

This new me, this Sexgirl version, was a revelation in more than the obvious sense. I had genuinely never felt quite so empowered before, and certainly never so at one with my own body, my own sexuality. Any subconscious fears that I might have harboured about Mikey's commitment to the cause – or rather, enjoyment of the effects – had been wiped out by his own actions from the previous night, and I found myself being rather surprisingly pleased with how he had participated and finally done things purely for his own benefit. And I was even more happy now that I knew for sure that we shared a vision, a taste...

But....

There's always a but, isn't there (and I wasn't referring to the butt that Mikey had bared last night, either)? This new image of myself, the near-Amazonian 'this is what I want boys' version of me, seemed larger than life, even for me. When I was naked and on display, when my muscles were quivering with a barely controlled climax, when I was feeling the joy at the hard evidence of my sexuality... oh yes, I loved all of that. But it didn't feel quite right somehow.

I loved the new-found sense of power and control that I felt at those moments, and the transition that previous night from being the (albeit willing) victim of Mikey, to being the Sexgirl, demanding what she wanted (okay, needed) was natural-feeling. Nothing felt stressed or forced or strained, but there was this nagging undercurrent of feeling that maybe I was just somehow overcompensating for all the years I'd missed out on, that maybe I was riding the first surge of something new, and that the real me – the real Sexgirl, even – was a less demonstrative and less demanding character.

I threw the covers off of myself and looked down at my naked body, small scratches and red marks evidence of last night's excesses, and welcome in a weird and wonderful way. I was still examining the scars when Mikey walked into the room, a mug of coffee steaming away in each hand.

"I recognise that view," he said, placing my mug on my bedside table, "And I'm now happy to say that I'm probably not the only one."

I gave a rueful smile, "You sure that wasn't over the top with Danny last night, then?"

"I honestly couldn't be much happier."

"Much?"

Mikey shrugged, "As long as you are – I mean, as long as you genuinely are happy, no regrets and all that – then yeah, I'm pretty much as happy as I could be. It's all a bit of a surprise, but a fantastic one."

"You said 'much' again." Hey, give me a break here, okay? I'm as fickle as any female at times.

"I don't mean it in a bad way. I mean what we've done is already more than I could have hoped for... no, more than I could have ever dreamed for... of... whatever... let me start again. What I'm trying to say is that I feel like every Christmas and birthday and bonus and happy surprise have all come at once and I just cannot get my head around how much it all means to me, and how proud I am of you in about a thousand ways..."

"There's a 'but' though, right?"

"No!" Mikey rolled his eyes and sipped his coffee. "Look, all I mean is that it's way more than I could have hoped for, it's just so... well... fast, I suppose. I don't mean-"

"That's it!" I interrupted, "That's what's been bugging me...."

"You mean you regret it all happening so fast after all?"

"No... no, not at all – I doubt whether I could have transformed myself slowly, but... well... do you think it's all too fast?"

"I don't, I just think .. well, I just think it's like something was maybe..."

"Missing? A kind of middle step that we didn't get time for?"

Mikey looked quizzically at me, "I guess that's what I mean... I haven't really had time to think that much about it."

I took a gulp of coffee, "Nor me, but that's what it is, I think. I kind of said something about it after that night at the rooftop place in Brighton, but I guess I lost sight of it in the excitement..." I glanced up and shook my head, "And no, I don't mean that I regret anything... it's just that it's like I've skipped a step or two and there might be some new fun to be found there as well – and trust me, buster, the new me is here to stay and if you're happy with me, I want to experiment with every angle I can find."

"You honestly think there's a chance I would miss out on that?" Mikey grinned and slid back into the bed beside me. He leaned forward and kissed the tip of my nose, his right hand brushing deliciously across my bare breasts (not tits, at that point, note – this was me, not Sexgirl).

I awkwardly set my coffee mug back on the cabinet and stretched under my guy's expert touch. "Oh hey!" I push his hand away, "No time for that now, the window cleaner is due here this morning."

Mikey raised an eyebrow and rested his hand on my shoulder, exerting just enough pressure to keep me on my back. "Is that so?"

I started giggling quietly at first, managing to call Mikey both 'incorrigible' and 'a dirty little perv', neither of which I fully meant. Before many seconds had passed, I was snorting laughter in a way that was most unladylike, despite the way I was dressed. Or rather undressed.

Mikey, laughing as much as me, somehow managed to pin me long enough to penetrate and despite the fact that the window cleaner didn't finally arrive until nearly an hour after we were finished, it proved to be a wonderful, exciting, scary, fun bout of sex. Somehow, knowing that we could be caught at any moment heightened the pleasure. I swear I saw Sexgirl sitting on the dressing table smirking at me at one point...

The nearly-but-not-quite window-cleaner incident got both Mikey and me thinking, and for a change we decided to plan the next steps together. There was a lot of 'we could try...' and 'what if so-and-so sees this...' and 'just how much should be on display....' – all of which ended up in a lot of sex – but we finally come up with a plan, and, me being me, it revolved around the dress shopping trip I'd suggested when we'd ushered Danny out of the house the previous night.

I was still keeping my plan for Melissa under wraps, though, partly because I didn't want to tease Mikey with something I might not be able to go through with, and partly because I wasn't even sure that I really wanted to go through with anything. Mikey, his fevered imagination full of little changing rooms and even littler dresses, didn't seem to have remembered my comment about my old schoolfriend anyway. The next morning we left for the new mall in the town an hour's drive to our South with only our mission on our mind. Or possibly an emission...

I'd dressed in a summery dress, which loose enough to be easy to change out of, and undies so skimpy and see-through that, as Mikey commented, I might as well have not bothered. For his part, Mikey was in shorts and a long t-shirt – the former being loose enough to disguise a bulge, and the latter being long enough to complete the disguise when the former weren't capable of doing it any more.

Somehow we got to the new mall without getting a speeding ticket, and still in the five items of clothing we'd set out in. Not bad under the circumstances.

The first two clothes shops were passed over on the grounds that the changing rooms had lockable, wooden doors, but the third proved to be just perfect, having a series of changing cubicles with curtains. The assistants were all young and rather pretty, although not perfect, gender-wise, being female – but we hadn't expected to get totally lucky first time up.

I selected a couple of slinky black things – I would only use the description 'dress' as a last resort, and only then because 'undress' isn't a noun – and walked up to one of the assistants, waving the fabric off-cuts in one hand, then displaying the final part of my disguise on the other.

"Hi. I've managed to drag my boyfriend with me because I broke my finger last week," I wiggled two strapped digits, "and I was hoping you wouldn't mind if he came into the changing thingy with me to zip me up?"

The over made-up young woman didn't even glance at my world-class fake bandage, rendering half an hour of fiddling with it a complete waste of time, "No problems. Just give us a shout if we can like help or something, alright?"

I tried not to grimace at her accent and said a quick 'thank you' before leading Mikey into the little cubicle, hanging the two dresses on a convenient hook. I turned to my guy and gave a little chuckle.

"Would you believe I'm as nervous as anything?"

"Fully clothed, behind a thick curtain, in a shop with three young women in and no other guys? For some weird reason, yes I would, princess."

It was true – weird, for sure, but true – and both of our hands were trembling slightly as we fiddled my zipper open. When my dress dropped to the floor and I stood before Mikey in my skimpy little undies, I felt more like I was totally naked and on stage at a packed theatre. Sexgirl raised a quizzical eyebrow, seemingly as confused as I was. I was about to reach for one of the new dresses when a muffled voice reached our ears.

"Stop complaining, Vic, its not too much to ask that you take an interest in your wife's welfare for once is it?" The strident female continued over the top of whatever muffled reply 'Vic' gave, coming closer to the changing cubicles, "Now just you stand out here and be ready to give me an honest and approving appraisal when I come out in this blouse."

Mikey grinned, nervous but controlled, "Still twitchy, princess?"

"You have no idea, buster. Trouble is I'm not sure I can do it any more – and don't mention rooftops or Danny!"

"I wouldn't – this is way different, Jess."

Mikey was right. Just outside the curtain was some anonymous guy, some middle-aged sounding stranger just inches away from a sight of me in the skimpiest undies imaginable, some older guy that probably even deserved a little fun in his life to judge by the sound of his wife or partner or whoever she was.... But could I do anything? How the hell was I supposed to pluck up the courage to 'stumble' and step through the curtain as Mikey and I had planned? For some reason this had become a much bigger deal than all the rooftops and Dannys in the universe... I glanced down at my near-nakedness, at the twin points of my hardened nipples, so obviously visible behind the sheer cotton of my bra, and lower to the subtle pinkness that the matching panties could not conceal. To display those sights to a stranger, an obviously male, heterosexual stranger... impossible all of a sudden. The curtain became as solid as a sheet of forged iron, as impassable as the deepest gorge, as thick and impenetrable as the world's wildest rain forest, as-

Mikey's gentle nudge was as effective as it was unexpected. With a sound like a female mouse catching all eight of its nipples in a metal trap I squeaked and staggered, virtually falling through the flimsy curtain. I caught my balance and looked up to see the open jaw and even wider eyes of 'Vic'.

It wasn't me, and it wasn't even Sexgirl, but I froze. Vic's eyes lowered to first my nearly exposed breasts and then lower, to my groin. As they travelled across my skin they left a trail of superheated air, which my pussy tried to extinguish with a burst of fluid. Finally, after either four hours or four seconds, I let loose another squeak, muttered a hasty 'sorry' and dived back inside the cubicle, yanking the curtain closed behind me.

Mikey's jaw was a slack mirror of the stunned, but much happier, man's outside, but the look in his eyes was pure and unadulterated excitement. Any complaint that I was about to level at him melted away as his barely contained delight threatened to explode. When he pulled me to him, his mouth urgently seeking mine, kissing powerfully and deeply, the solid presence in his shorts pressing hard and needful against my belly, that contagious delight swarmed through me.

A vision of Vic's hungry gaze flashed across my mind and I broke the tongue wrestling competition long enough to lean back a few inches, enough to glance down at my near-naked flesh, my thighs starting to tremble as the excitement within threatened to burst forth. With a groan I flung myself back into Mikey's embrace, our kissing resuming with renewed vigour.

"I," Mikey gasped, "need you!"

"Mmmm," I managed, half-nodding.

"That was... god... hotter even than... than..."

"Brighton," I agreed, "Danny."

We resumed the kiss, grinding against each other now, and I realised it was true. The simple, relatively tame few seconds standing there in sheer bra and panties, in front of a truly shocked, truly delighted man who I had never met before, nor was likely to ever meet again... well that was more intense, somehow, than my previous two experiments.

It made no sense to might right then, and to a degree it makes little sense to me now – but I can't argue with my body. And here's the rub, here's the weirdest thing of all. Standing there... okay, writhing there... in Mikey's arms, me still in the skimpy garments that Vic had just been admiring – or rather the skimpy garments still covering the body that Vic had been admiring – I wanted to make love more, right then and there, than I can ever recall wanting to before. More to the point I wanted to fuck. I wanted to be fucked. I wanted Mikey's cock buried to the hilt in my moist, hot, urgent pussy. No, my cunt. Even Sexgirl was raising an eyebrow. But....

But I was all too aware that we were in a tiny changing cubicle in a clothes shop. That any act more lascivious than the passionate kiss we were sharing now would inevitable lead to us being caught. And that, even though the only interruption that was likely was from a young, female shop assistant or two, I didn't want to be found that way. I loved that Mikey had somehow contrived to get me seen by the put-upon Vic (another surge of heat grew in my belly). I loved that this stranger had seen me for long enough, close enough, to have an image of me burned into his brain (another surge of moisture threatened to soak my skimpy knickers). I loved that Mikey was as excited as his belly-threatening hardness indicated (a hip-bucking grind brought a whimper from deep in my throat). I loved that I was giving lessons in how to feel passion to Sexgirl (another tremor within my belly muscles threatened the onslaught of imminent climax). But I didn't want anyone but Mikey to witness the transition from flash-flood to tsunami.

"Let's go!" I managed to hiss through the kiss.

"I don't care-"

"I do! I want... I need you. But not here, okay?"

"Oh princess, yes!"

I broke free of his arms and grabbed the dress, fumbling and shaking my way into it, making do with one fastened button rather than three, my taped fingers making anything more thorough just too difficult and time-consuming. Covered enough to avoid arrest, I picked up my shoes and the untried-on dresses and positively bolted from the cubicle, a bemused Mikey chasing after me.

I dumped the dresses onto a counter by the cash register, muttered something along the lines of 'too embarrassed now' – true for one reason, and believable for another – and dashed outside, reaching behind me for Mikey's hand, determined that I wouldn't lose my grip on the possessor of the one thing I wanted more than anything else in the world. Never has a cock been so desired, I swear.

I looked about frantically until I spotted the sign for the car park, before setting off at a trot.

I love my guy with an intensity that scares me sometimes, but in the ten minutes that followed our exit from the dress shop, my feelings for him sky-rocketed as he got us to the car, exited the car park at a breathtaking speed, hurled us around the one-way streets outside the shopping mall, and managed to get us to a deserted forest track before screeching to a halt in a cloud of dust.

Mikey leaned across me, throwing open the passenger door and urged my out, my of his hands snaking up my dress to snag my knickers and haul them clumsily down as I staggered out of the vehicle. As I waited for the two or three seconds it took Mikey to join me by the side of the car, I managed to undo the one button that was holding the dress up. Two seconds more was all it took for Mikey and me to get rid of the dress altogether and the bra underneath. By the time we managed to stumble into a grassy clearing a dozen yards or so into the trees, Mikey was as naked as me.

"This," he panted, "is what it's all about."

"Love and lust, buster. Show me."

I squealed as a firm shove sat my on my butt, my eyes momentarily level with his engorged, gorgeous cock before his hands were on my shoulders, pushing me all the way down onto the grass, his body following me. My arms, legs and heart opened wide to welcome him, desperation notwithstanding. I was impaled deliciously within a heartbeat and I swear I had never felt him so large inside me. I started to moan, laughing, drunk with desire, and then gasped as a deep insistent tremor started to thrum though my belly.

"Oh, baby, oh, buster!"

A half-smile matched the one eyebrow Mikey raised, "Princess? Are you... are you going to cum right now?"

My eyes opened wide as another shudder ripped through the deep centre of me. Shock almost choked me, but I managed a weak, shuddery nod, "Oh, buster, yes!"

Mikey's hips rocked with hard thrusts, each one cranking my passions higher, "Oh, my sweet, beautiful, sexy, princess! Oh, my Jess!"

"Oh!, oh! OH!" I squealed and squeaked, whimpered and wailed. Then let loose a howl.

As I gave free rein to the aural equivalent of every ounce of desire and excitement I felt, I guess we learned that we were alone in that area of the forest. Or quite possibly, I scared off every other living animal in the vicinity. Do you realise, I don't even remember exactly when Mikey exploded inside me? Although, given the mess rolling down my thighs as we wobbled out way back to the car some half an hour later, I'm pretty damned sure he exploded in copious style.

There was a lot of love-making that day. A fair bit of fucking, as well. By the middle of the evening I was barely able to limp to the fridge for a cold drink, and Mikey had given up walking altogether.

The only thing that seemed to be working at full capacity was my brain, and even that seemed to be misfiring. As well as all the physical activity, Mikey and I spent hours talking about what had happened and why such a relatively – it seemed – minor act had brought about such an extreme reaction from me.

The concept of me being the innocent party was certainly, we agreed, a factor, as was the obvious surprise and pleasure of my 'Vic'tim. But then there was the question of whether the degree of reality in that innocence had played a part. Would I have reacted so strongly if I had deliberately stumbled out of that changing cubicle, no matter how well I played the innocent party as far as my shocked audience was concerned?

I would have thought that it would make the world of difference, but my body kept reacting the same way to my thoughts no matter which way I played the scene. And okay, the underwear had been at the extreme end of skimpy – but I still had this nagging feeling that by wearing anything I was just strengthening the reaction, that I was making the whole incident more believably accidental... I wasn't saying that more was worse – that what I had done on the rooftop in Brighton, and with Danny, and with Lucas (good grief, talk about a growing rap sheet...) were now causes for regret, or that they were over-the-top – it was just that this softer, more innocent-seeming style of display was just as intensely pleasing for me. Ultimately, I wanted to please my guy and I derived my pleasure from his – and to judge from the soreness I felt at my groin, the simple stumble was more than adequate.