Give and Take Ch. 03

My stomach woke me with a growl. Those drinks at the tiki bar had been tasty but not exactly filling. What time was it? I fumbled about on the end table for my phone, the room's blackout curtains proving a little too effective. 4:20 PM, smoke them if you got them. Well I didn't "got" them and it never really did much for me anyway, but I could certainly identify with the munchies right about then. The lamp flipped on with a click. Where the fuck was that room service menu?

A cheeseburger later I emerged from my room clad in cotton shorts and a tank top, searching for a place where I could update my wardrobe. Narrow halls wound through the resort before opening up to a garden style atrium centered on a fountain. The Marketplace: a sprawling complex of stores that went well beyond the typical hotel gift shop set up. This was a miniature shopping mall designed to cater to the unforeseen needs of those testing out a new sex.

I entered "Belle X" on a hunch and immediately confirmed my assumption as I looked out over rack after rack of women's clothing. The sales clerk pounced on me as soon as I entered, never giving me a chance to feel overwhelmed by the slew of choices. A whip of a Latina, she crackled energy as she circled the store, a perpetual motion machine who bounced on the balls of her feet whenever she was compelled to stay in one spot for more than a moment.

"Such a pretty little Spring you are" she purred as she lifted a blonde strand off my shoulder for inspection, "us natural girls would kill for this color, yes?"

I wasn't sure exactly what she was talking about, but I knew she wasn't really asking me a question.

She circled me twice, then planted herself in front of me, taking my chin and tilting it down so that she could zoom in on my eyes. Since taking the pill, she was the first person I had met who was actually shorter than me but there was no doubt who was in charge here as she inspected me, not in the leering manner of man-bun but as an artist studies his muse. "Verde, very pretty," and then she stepped back, taking me in from a wide angle lens. For a moment she came to rest at a standstill, save for the finger tapping her chin. "No, not a Spring, but a light Summer" she decreed in a hushed tone as if she had just discerned some solemn truth. Then she turned a disapproving glare upon my tank top. "And here you are wearing black. Come along, Rosie will take care of you senorita." She spun on her heels and disappeared into the racks.

I followed at a trot, struggling to keep up with only the sound of her jangling jewelry to track her by. "But I thought every girl kept a little black dress in her closet?" I protested in the general direction of the jangling steps. Seriously, how was black a fashion faux paus?

"Not you, nothing darker than a light navy, understand?" The voice floating back to me from the clothes.

I finally caught up to her, found her standing at a rack, fingers flying furiously. I didn't understand at all, but I wasn't about to argue.

The rifling fingers stopped and she thrust a dress towards me, one or two shades lighter than navy. "Here, this is your little navy dress. Now come, we've got much to do."

Several hours later I staggered out of the store, not entirely sure what had hit me. I had spent who knows how much time and money just sprinting around, dressing and undressing on command. I still felt clueless fashion wise. I now knew that I measured 32B-24-34 but that was about it in terms of positive knowledge. Everything else was more in the form of what not to do, such as not "ruining" the lines of tight dresses by wearing boyshorts underneath, or the previously mentioned "don't wear black." Okay, it was mostly instructions to stop wearing what I was currently wearing. But at least Rosie had pieced together enough outfits for me that it would be a while before I had to think about how to dress myself.

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"Another Guinness, Sam?"

I grunt an approval that sends Tommy to the row of taps to start the pour. Looking in the mirror suspended above the bar, I see remnants of the last pint caught in my beard and wipe the foam onto the back of my forearm. The others had already left with various bedwarmers for the night, leaving me alone. Letting my Basic expire had spared me the attentions of Felix but only encouraged Chloe, along with several other enterprising takers who had introduced themselves to me tonight.

In fact, almost every girl in the resort had made herself available to me tonight. Except for the one I was waiting on. Luck of the Irish ran dry tonight.

The pint glass is placed in front of me, a perfect pour that sparks joy. "Thank you Tommy, you're the best."

"Surprised you're still here talking to me. Plenty of chances to leave with more attractive conversation partners."

I smile sheepishly. "I was waiting on someone actually: met her at the pool today, new check-in that doesn't know anyone, so I invited her out with us, you know, help her make some friends."

"Oh so you got stood up?" It would be nice if he wasn't quite so obviously gleeful about this.

"What, no, it wasn't a set date, just a 'hey some of us are going out later if you want to join' type of thing."

"Oh sure, I understand, really, I do." Tommy starts to perform a 'there there' series of pats on my knuckles before I hastily withdraw my hand.

"Tommy" I grumble.

"Hey man, I'm just busting your balls, you know I don't mean anything by it. It is kind of nice though to know that even Sam strikes out sometimes."

"You're a real spanner, you know that?" He laughs while I take my first sip of the pint. Hard to get too worked up with a beer in front of me.

The laugh freezes as Tommy looks over my head. He tosses his bar towel onto the counter with an exasperated sigh and a shake of his head. "Fucking Sam" he mutters as he stalks to the far end of the bar. Spinning in my stool, I look back to the entrance for the source of Tommy's discontent.

And there she is, the girl from the pool.

She picks her way towards the bar with the foal like steps. Was this truly the same person I had met this afternoon? The girl with wet hair and the baby blue swimsuit had been cute, but this creature is breathtaking. A navy dress clings to her fair skin, the fabric coiling from her wrists up to a crew neck and then down again to mid-thigh. Dirty blonde waves cascade down her shoulders to just above the swell of her breasts. Emerald eyes sparkle in the dimmed lighting of the bar even as they cast about the otherwise empty bar, her expression betraying doubt that she has found the right place.

"Ashley, so glad you made it!" A reassuring note in my voice to let her know this was indeed the spot.

She blinks twice, head turning to the side in the manner of an inquisitive dog. "Sorry, have we met?"

Oh right, she was expecting Sammi. I rise and pull adjacent seat out for her. "In a manner of speaking. I'm Sammi but I might have changed outfits since then."

There is only a brief flash of surprise before she goes into the 'oh yeah' head nod which just happens to provide the perfect cover for looking me up and down. "Well it is a little more formal here than at the pool I suppose. Guess I should get used to meeting everyone twice around here."

"Sorry about that, I should have given you some warning this afternoon but didn't think about my pill nearing expiry. If you don't mind the beauty to beast transformation, care to join me for a pint? You can call me Sam by the way." I can feel Tommy rolling his eyes, but it's not his response I'm concerned with.

She tucks her hair behind her ear before smiling shyly. "I would like that, Sam."

I hold the stool steady for her, push it in beneath her as she settles into it relatively gracefully for someone making what I assume is her first attempt to wear heels.

"Tommy, a drink menu for the lady. And don't worry, I'll only be mildly insulted if you don't order the Guinness."

She's courteous enough to chuckle as she scans the menu. "It's not a mark on your national honor if I order a Murphy's instead, right?" She puts the menu back down as Tommy returns to the taps.

"No, it's a proper stout. And here you've caught me with an English drink in my hand."

Clearly perplexed by the 'English' description of the Dublin-brewed beverage but not flummoxed she gamely carries on, "I don't know what that means, but I am overdue for a proper stout." Her imitation of my brogue on the word 'proper' is a nice bit of acting on her part.

"No one knows, just something they say in Cork. Although I suspect the whole city is taking the piss. Serious moment now though: were you making fun of my accent?"

To her everlasting credit she looks properly chastened. "No, I promise I didn't mean it like that. I kind of like it actually. Think of it as, you know, imitation as a form of flattery?" The look of genuine worry that she might have given offense is achingly sincere enough that I would have forgiven her if I had actually been mad at her.

As it stands, I feel bad for giving her worry. "Ashley, I know. Just giving you the business."

Her face brightens as I let her off the hook, visibly relieved. "Okay, I have to admit, you had me going there." Tommy returns with her pint and she enjoys a sip before continuing. "But since you raised the subject, what's the story with your accent?"

"What do you mean?"

"This afternoon you were speaking the queen's English. Now you've got this Irish brogue going on, is that because of the pill?"

"Oh that? Dad's Irish, mum is English. Don't know if it's nature or nurture, but that's how it comes out. You sound different on the pill right?"

"Well yeah, but I still have the same Southern accent."

"So when you were a man you gasped out every word like a belle at the ball?"

"Of course not!"

"So there you go."

"Fine, point taken. I still don't think it's that big a shift."

I clutch a set of phantom pearls. "Why sir, I do declare, you wound me so!" I try to go full 'Gone With The Wind' with the performance but it winds up pretty mangled with the Irish accent and masculine undertones.

She bursts out laughing, a melody of pure joy. "Don't ever quit your day job Sam." Still snickering, she holds her glass out for a clink, which I oblige.

"Cheers!" Long draughts follow our bit of unison.

As we set our glasses down, I give an appreciative nod towards her empty glass, impressed that she's drained it in one go, even if the effort has left a bit of foam on the tip of her nose. "Thirsty?"

"Looked like the party ended before I got here so I figured I should catch up. Sorry I was so late by the way, I didn't have anything to wear and shopping turned into a whole thing and yeah, anyway. I hope you weren't waiting long?" She passed her glass over to Tommy with a nod before turning back to me.

"Not long at all." Just the entire night. "And worth the wait." That part is true. "That dress, you look amazing in it. Although you could have powdered your nose." I grin as I wipe the speck of foam off her nose.

Her eyes widen and her cheeks brighten. "Well great. How long has that been there?"

"Wear it with pride, just a sign of good taste. Although you are adorable when you blush." I had thought as much this afternoon at the pool when I caught her checking the goods on Morty and her cheeks flushed right before she dove under the water. But her blush was having an even stronger effect on my male body. That touch of pink on her cheeks gives her a bloom of innocence that begs for me to hold and protect her. And if I can make her face flush for less innocent reasons, even better.

"Stop, you're embarrassing me" she giggles.

"Better get used to it, people complimenting your looks is part of life on the pill. Besides, I know you didn't put on that dress or those shoes for comfort, so enjoy the praise, it's well earned."

She scoops up her drink and takes a leisurely sip, consuming more time than alcohol, but her laughing eyes never leave mine. Little minx knows exactly what she's doing.

She sets the glass down, eyes lingering on the rim where her fingertip traces. "You're very kind. Truth be told, I still feel in over my head, basically let a saleswoman at the Marketplace dress me tonight, but it's nice to hear that I'm pulling this off." Her face glows with genuine appreciation at the compliment when our eyes meet again.

"Don't sell yourself short, you're stunning. As soon as I saw you at the pool I started thinking about what it would be like to meet you as Sam." I find her hand in her lap. "Ashley, how long do we have like this? Before you change back?"

Ashley stares at our joined hands but doesn't pull away. "Actually, a full month. I took an Xtra." She looks up from her lap, that same shy smile and faint pink coloring.

My heart skips a beat. A whole month with this one bouncing around the resort? Surely she needs someone to help her explore everything this new body of hers has to offer. "Ashley that's amazing! Look at you, diving in the deep end."

"Thanks, I guess? Kind of an impulse decision. I only tried a Lite the once, but I had a bunch of vacation time and thought this would just be like, you know, kind of the ultimate escape, just becoming someone else for a month?"

"Wow, really, you went straight from a Lite to an Xtra? That's pretty intense." Self-doubt flickers on her face. Shit, don't make her second guess. "But I totally get that desire to escape. And trust me, you're going to have an awesome time." I rub my thumb across the top of her knuckles. "I was actually on an Xtra until about a week ago. Immersing yourself like that is great. And if you ever have any worries, I'll be happy to help you learn about and appreciate your new body." I lift her hand, grazing it with my lips.

"How altruistic of you." She laughs and rolls her eyes. "But I suppose having a teacher who has done the whole Xtra thing could be nice."

There it is. The invitation. She could dress the proper lady and laugh and flirt and tease but she came to this place for a reason. Even announced the pill made her horny at the pool. You know what she wants and you're going to give it to her.

I stand and reclaim my height advantage before leaning over to whisper in her ear. "You have no idea. Ready for your first lesson?"

Her nasal breath is audible. "Okay." A slight waver in her voice.

My hand remains in hers, steadying her as she descends to the floor. Her heart beat thumps through her palm, exuding nervous energy even as she stares at me with hunger. I breathe deeply, tasting her pheromones, savoring the moment of achievement when the hunt turns, that beautiful moment when a woman yields herself to your pursuit as lust overcomes her doubts and fears.

"This way." I lead her out towards the lifts but pause after a couple of steps when I realize she isn't behind me. I look back, find her straggling at the bar to down the last of her liquid courage.

"You're an Irishman's dream," I chuckle as she totters towards me, wrapping my arm around her shoulders when she's in reach.

"There are starving kids in Africa right?" She presses herself to me, her cheek warm against my chest, half cuddling and half using me as a crutch to walk.

"I can carry your heels if you think it'll be easier."

"Was it that obvious?"

"You're actually doing pretty well, I'm guessing this is your first time in them? But you're taking tiny steps, I can tell you're still having to think about it."

She considers for longer than the decision merits, presumably weighing if it would be some faux pas. I rescue her from indecision, scooping the girl into my arms with a squeal of surprise that quickly settles into a happy murmur as she wraps her arms around my neck.

"This is definitely better." She grins, literally swept off her feet. The surprise and delight on her face, it's a good look for her. I peck her lips, not a particularly passionate kiss but a burst of affection for her cuteness. More surprised delight. Then off towards the lifts again at an earnest pace, her featherweight doing nothing to slow me.

The nerves she showed at the bar melt on the walk back. She clings to me, cheek to shoulder, finding comfort in my grip. While the lift ascends, I chance a feel, my right hand straying up her legs until it slips under her dress. Bare skin, right where thigh joins bottom. I crook an eyebrow at her.

"Caught me bare assed." She dissolves into giggles as the lift opens.

Spurred by the discovery, I cover the distance to my room in record time. Swipe the key, back the door open and wheel into the room.

Bonk. "Ow!" She rubs the back of her head with an amused smirk. Fortunately, my klutziness was more entertaining than harmful.

"Sorry. Should I kiss it better?"

She shakes with mirth in my arms. "You're a dork, you know that? But kisses are nice."

I cross to the bed, the hallway light receding as the door shuts behind me, leaving only the moon's illumination. I lay her down, cradling her head to avoid further mishap. As our weight sinks into the bed, my tongue finds hers, battles briefly for supremacy before she yields, granting me my first proper taste of her: warm freshness tinged by the maltiness of the stout.

Her fingers spider up my forearm, nails tickling my hair until the rolls on my shirt sleeves halt her ascent at the elbows. She tugs the sleeves with a frown. "Lose this."

I only bother to loosen one button before the shirt is over my head and I rejoin her on the bed, kissing the pout away.

She murmurs happily, her hands running circuits up my back and down my arms as we make out, pausing on each circuit for an extended grope of my biceps when she reaches them.

I give a little flex and she makes an appreciative sound as the muscles harden under her hands. Then I pull her hands away with a firm grip on her wrists. Confusion, then lust crosses her face when I pin her wrists above her head.

My cock stirs at the supine offering, her outstretched arms forcing the nubile to arch her back and thrust her breasts towards me. I lay beside her, freeing my right hand to make it's own circuits.

I thumb her bottom lip, only letting her suck for a moment before removing the teasing digit, then trailing down her chin, eliciting the desired pout and whimper. Tracing down to the crewneck, I let my hand rest there as I study the shadows cast by the moon across the dip of her collarbone.

She shudders against the web of my hand, lifting her chin to expose herself to me. Wasn't expecting that. My pulse quickens and I slide down the bed to tongue the presented pressure point.

I feel the gasp before I hear it, an exhale of self-discovery. My lips stay sealed in a fangless vampire lock even as my free hand continues to roam south, past her peaks, rounding the hem, climbing her thighs until nudging her valley.

Another sigh as my finger breaches her moistness. Her wrists push half-heartedly against my grip but I hold her in place. My lips return to hers, then retire to an observing distance. I want to see this, watch the pleasure build and then crash. As my middle finger mines her depths, my thumb transports the flowing nectar, spreading the slickness around her clit.

Wrists and nethers pinned, she lies suspended between my hands while her center sways and twists in response to my manipulations. Her nose flares with ever deeper breaths. The hairline glistens. Mouth opens. Shuts.

Silence.

"YES!"

Her chest heaves as she draws ragged breaths through her mouth. My palm flattens against her mons to tame the bucking hips, channeling the kinetic energy back into her writhing body. I ride the wave with her, my whole weight restraining her surging wrists as I wait for her to settle.

Finally, I release her. Her dilated eyes worship me as she watches me flex cramped digits. Panting, adoring, jugular notch reflecting the pale moonlight: the embodiment of a spent woman.