Turned Into His Girlfriend's Twin

Will She Finally Treat Him (now Her) As Her Sexual Equal?

Note to readers: The first half of this story is the true account of my failed relationship with a girl I almost married.

I've often wondered whether there was any way for our relationship to have had a happy ending. I can only think of one way, which would have involved the use of magic. The second half of the story does this.

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Imagine a scene involving the most beautiful porno actress in the world. Then add class, confidence, and an innocent face. Then change it so that the endless multiple orgasms are real. As is her accompanying passion, including her moans and thrashing, her awesome breasts, her body and hair seemingly unable to contain all her pleasure.

Imagine a roller coaster, going on a thrilling ride with even the onlookers screaming in ecstasy. One of which is you. You're only a modest part of the action, just a privileged helper as the primary beneficiary of the pleasure (who gets as much pleasure as a huge crowd of onlookers does combined) screams her head off in ecstasy.

Imagine you found a queen bee, but that she treats you only as a worker bee. Which, if the issue is a comparison of your sexuality to hers, in a way you are. Inferior and pathetic.

Now you have some idea as to what it's like to live with ad make love with Marie.

Her incredible beauty and sensuality meant we were an odd looking couple. A visually unequal couple. We both knew it even though neither of us ever verbalized it. Men and woman would look at us and wonder what she saw in me. Everyone knew how lucky I was to have her, including me. I was only an average looking guy. Average in terms of height, looks, and build. Smart, nice, easy going, nice looking, but nothing special.

I only landed her because we got to know each other in college and we were assigned to the same floor of our dorm. I think she fell in love with me because of my brains and personality. I fell in love with her for a lot of reasons.

Marie (actually, her full name was Annmarie) was, physically, incredible looking in every way. But she knew it. As the line from some movie goes, she had the body of a $2000/night hooker but the face of a kindergarten teacher. Except when she dressed up and put on makeup, and became classy and sophisticated looking.

Marie was obsessed with her looks. She preened endlessly, admiring herself in the mirror and making comments about how petty and sexy she was. Light brown hair with a beautiful face and huge rack, fit and trim, she was most people's dream of perfection. Including her own.

Maybe almost every beautiful girl preens at times, but she took it to a new level. A part of me was bothered by her obsession with her looks. But most of me rationalized it was justified by her beauty. I sure did appreciate her beauty.

As a variation of an old joke goes, if you look up "narcissist" in the dictionary you'll find Marie's photograph. But at least she had the face and body to merit it. So "honest" and "candid" could be more positive ways of describing her narcissism.

And maybe, sexually, she should be described as a "pillow princess". Sexually lazy, vain, selfish, and only concerned with her own pleasure. I always wondered whether her obsession with her own female beauty meant she was bisexual? If she were a repressed (she was from a conservative background) lesbian or was bi, this could explain some of her actions.

You might expect someone in Marie's league to hook up with an incredibly hot looking guy, and she had done this in the past (I decided) just to have made the conquest and to impress other woman. In fact, at first I was afraid of losing her to a better looking guy. But I firmly believe that guys' looks didn't matter to her.

I once asked her closest friend why a woman as gorgeous as Marie went out with me and she replied that Marie had told her I was "good marriage material", "a good father for her children", "the kind of man her mother told her to marry" and "someone who really appreciated her."

We dated and after a while started going out exclusively. She told me she was madly in love with me, and I believe her. I told her the same thing, which was completely true. We went out for most of our college years. At the beginning we made love constantly.

Yet, in all this time I don't think she ever was attracted to me sexually. Or to anyone else that I know of. She never commented on my body or the way I dressed, or called me good looking or sexy. Even as part of our lovemaking. Or praised me in bed even though she always came like crazy. I would constantly tell her that she was incredibly pretty and sexy, but she would never say anything nice about me from a physical or lovemaking standpoint.

I think she never cared about her lover's looks because lovers were just instruments to give her pleasure. So long as her lover (me) made a big fuss about her face and body, and told her how beautiful and sexy she was, and gave her pleasure - lots and lots of sexual pleasure - the way her lover looked was irrelevant.

So long as during lovemaking her partner spent a huge amount of time catering to her and getting her off, and was content with the thrill that would come to anyone lucky enough to be even close to her goddess-like body, she was happy.

In fact, she counted on the fact that almost any contact at all with her sexual perfection and passion would excite almost anyone, and this would be enough to make them come. Her sexy body and the sounds she made during sex was was more than enough for her lover, in her opinion, so she didn't have to do anything in bed.

If anything, I suspected she preferred a guy who was not good looking so there was no question in ether person's mind that hers was the sexiest body on the bed. That she ruled the bed. So long as everyone involved knew who the sexy one was, and whose sexual needs mattered, she was happy.

Marie would ask for lovemaking as often as I would, which was quite often, but she would always expect me to do everything. Which was fine with me. Just looking at or touching her body was a privilege, and caressing and kissing it was heavenly. I often let her know I felt this way. How I loved to service her desires!

Not that she didn't like to be on top sometimes, with her eyes closed, lost thinking about who-knows-what. But while she was on top she never talked with me, kissed me, caressed me, played with my chest hair or nipples - nothing. She just rode my cock, extracting pleasure from the ride, immersed in her own world of sexual extasy.

One day early in our relationship I went down on her, which she had never experienced before (we were both in college and inexperienced). My gosh, did she ever love oral sex! More than anything! Very soon she wanted it much more than intercourse. And, as crazy as she went during intercourse, that was nothing compared to how much she loved it when I went down on her.

Her favorite sexual position quickly became to lay back, close her eyes, and have me go down on her. Over and over. Coming again and again. She also loved it when I rubbed her to an orgasm. But oral sex was her #1 by far.

Often I even heard her name herself while I went down on her. I heard words like, "so sexy", "so beautiful" that could only be describing herself. She would come, over and over, for as long as I would go down on her. My mouth usually would get tired before she became too tender for me to continue. So I would switch or using my fingers and give her even more orgasms.

That's what I meant about us being unequal in terms of passion. I loved sex as much as any guy. But I could only come one time because after I came she usually would end our lovemaking session. (With a short rest I could have come a second time, and with an hour or two rest I could come a third time, as I often proved to myself by jerking off while thinking about her. But she always stopped sexual activity with me after I came once. To punish me for coming and therefore stopping giving her orgasms?)

Marie wanted to come almost endlessly. Which is why she wanted me to go down on her more and more often, and why she had us engage in intercourse less and less often. My coming terminated - or on rare occasion seriously interrupted - her pleasure. She didn't want to wait for me to recover. She simply wanted me to eat her, rub on her, and then eat her again.

I was jealous of her ability to come multiple times. Of course I was. What man in my position wouldn't be? But I could live with this jealousy happily. After all, I was just a man, a mere man. Sexually pathetic compared to her. And she was a sex goddess.

I so loved sucking her breasts while I rubbed on her, and so loved making her scream when I ate her. She screamed so loud that other girls with rooms near her single room in the college dorm would tell her they could hear her making love. Once a couple in a nearly room called the police because they thought someone was being attacked!

I'll admit to being jealous of her passion, and could tell that one of her erogenous zones gave her more pleasure than my cock could possibly gave to me. From listening to her it was clear that even her smallest orgasm was better - harder and longer - than the best one I ever had, and her more passionate multiple endless comes were beyond my comprehension or imagination.

But despite the sexual issues that started to arise, I loved her. I also loved her perfect and incredibly passionate body. I loved making love to this goddess even though she usually was so passive.

I didn't care all that much about what was going on inside of her head. What was she thinking about while we made love? Not me, that was for sure. And probably not other guys either. All I knew is that when we made love in any position, and especially orally, she came like crazy.

This made me feel great. To bring this much pleasure to such a heavenly creature.... What an accomplishment! The worker bee was happy to service his queen.

So, was making love with Marie sexual bliss? Often. But not always. Because even though I firmly believe she loved me, she didn't care whether I came or not. Her attitude was in effect, "You're lucky enough to be in bed with me. That's more than enough for any man!" In a way, it was true.

When I would really want to have intercourse, she sometimes would allow it. But most days she just wanted me to kiss, rub and caress her all over, and worship her tits while I rubbed her off. Followed by endless oral sex. "After you come you don't have any more passion. But I want to come again and again. So no intercourse."

"And after I've had enough, I'm too sensitive to have you enter me. So you can rub your cock against my leg until you come. Or once in a while I'll jerk you off. Or if I'm too spent you can jerk yourself off looking at my naked body. And even if you don't come you should be happy from all the pleasure you got from looking at me and from making me come over and over."

I'd protest. I'd helped her come countless times. Why couldn't she help me come one time?

Marie would reply with a relentless logic. "Don't you enjoy watching and listening to me come?"

"Yes! Oh God, yes. It's awesome!"

"Of course it is! I must have come a dozen times. So you must have enjoyed yourself a dozen times also."

"I did enjoy all of it. But now I want to come also."

"One silly little man come? It's basically nothing. Why even bother. Look, you're almost silent when you come, while I scream each time. So I must enjoy orgasms 10 or 100 times as much as you do. Mine are worth 10 of yours, or maybe 100. For you just to bask in one of my incredible orgasms should give you more pleasure than your silly little guy come."

"Based upon how you sound, the pleasure you get from your come is less than the pleasure I get from just you sucking on one of my nipples for a short time.

We're a team, right? In terms of the orgasms produced by us, by our team, on this bed, your come would just be a rounding error to our joint total. A dozen powerful orgasms by me plus one little guy come by you, would total something like 12.01 comes by me."

"If, after we finish, you want to give me another orgasm by rubbing on me, that would be fine. Or suck my breasts more (which makes me moan more than you ever moan). But a guy come - not just yours, but all guy comes - are so trivial that I can't be bothered. And, frankly, it's yucky for me to touch you down there or even look at your dick or balls. And don't think about asking me to kiss it. Or blow you. Don't be disgusting."

"It's not that your dick is gross and disgusting. All guys' dicks and balls are. But your dick is useful because it makes me come, although its not as good as your tongue. You're so lucky that you get to eat my perfect pussy. Don't spoil things by making me touch your yucky dick."

"I let you watch and service me. That makes you the luckiest guy in the world. If you want to jerk yourself off, go ahead. Or you could rub your cock against my leg while you rub me off at the end. But don't expect me to spoil my bliss by touching your (she then made an "ug" sound) cock when I could instead masturbate myself to another incredible multiple orgasm. Don't you like watching me masturbate?"

"Well, yes, of course. But...."

"We're partners, right? A team, right?"

"Right! Of course!"

"So you should be happy at the tremendous pleasure I receive."

This scenario only happened sometimes. Often I'd come while I sucked her breasts and rubbed my cock against her leg. Or from rubbing myself while I ate her. Sometimes - but increasingly infrequently - she would be willing to finish up with intercourse, after she had her fill of oral sex. Then of course I would come, and that was heavenly.

I sure didn't like it when she became a total complete pillow princess who wanted nothing to do with my dick. If I didn't come from rubbing my dick against her thigh I'd have to wait for her to fall asleep and then jerk myself off in the bathroom.

But I didn't end our relationship over the sex issues because.... well, because I loved her. And because a part of me thought I was still getting a great deal sexually. I knew that her take on things was, in a way, true. She was so beautiful and her sexuality was so incredible, and mine was so insignificant. Sigh.

She loved the arrangement so much that she wanted us to get engaged. She would ask me whether I loved her, and of course I said "yes." And then she would ask why we didn't get married. I would say that I was too young, which was true because I was only 20. But our sexual incompatibility also gave me pause.

How pathetic was I - would any mere man be - compared to this sex goddess. My role was indeed to serve her. I got the crumbs, the leftovers, and that was all I was entitled to. All any man would be entitled to. It was an honor to play my part in bringing her enormous, unbelievable pleasure.

But as a result of all this the overall chemistry of our relationship went downhill. We made love less and less often, and intercourse almost vanished. But she didn't seem to notice, and would still frequently suggest we get married. Then she started to pressure me into marrying her.

So there were great parts of our sex life and relationship. And bad parts. And puzzling parts.

Sometimes she would stop me in the middle of intercourse for no apparent reason. Often after she had come a number of times she would abruptly stop me, and sometimes would say that I was hurting her, that we had to stop immediately. Afterwards she would never talk about it, despite my attempts to get her to open up.

What was going inside her head during those times? Why did she want to stop so abruptly? Did something really hurt or did she just want to stop the intercourse for some reason? She never told me to stop when I was going down on her or rubbing on her.

Moreover, many evenings Marie would tell me she wanted me to eat her, and I was always happy to oblige. But when I would ask her, afterwards, to rub me off (I knew not to ask for intercourse or - heaven forbid - a blow job). Marie would reply that my request to her wasn't a fair one. She said she should be able to ask me to bring her off without her being obligated in return.

Didn't I greatly enjoy watching and listening to her come? I said I did, but that her coming made me horny. She said it wasn't fair that just because she wanted to get off she had to get me off also.

I agreed (many times) that I should be willing to get her off with no expectation of reciprocation. But then I added that since sometimes I should eat her or rub her off with no thought of reciprocation, shouldn't she do that for me sometimes as well? She hesitated, and then agreed. But whenever I asked her to give me a hand job or engage in intercourse she always found an excuse to say "not now". And I knew never to ask for a blow job.

Once the subject of a threesome came up. She dismissed it, saying that of course I'd want the third person to be another girl, while she'd like 2 guys to do their best to satisfy her.

I then honestly said that she didn't like intercourse very much but loved oral sex, so another man wouldn't work because he'd want to have intercourse with her.

Marie was silent.

I then added that another woman could go down on her. And I could have intercourse with the other woman, satisfying my sexual needs and freeing her from that obligation.

Marie acted surprised but said nothing. She certainly never disputed my assertion that she didn't like intercourse. Or disputed me saying that she would enjoy having another girl go down on her.

I then added that she might be even happier if she was making love only with another woman because then there would just be oral and manual sex, but no cocks to satisfy, look at, or touch.

Marie paused, and said nothing. I added that she'd probably love it when a woman went down on her, but how would she feel about going down on a woman? Marie was silent for a long time.

She then looked at me and told me she had fallen in love with me even though I had a cock. Which she described again as yucky even though she probably was thinking a stronger negative word.

Then, to see her reaction, and because I knew how much she admired her own breasts, I apologized for not having breasts as sexy as hers, and for not being gorgeous like her.

Marie was silent again, and then replied that no one had breasts as sexy as hers, and no one was as pretty as she was. But that she loved me anyway. Even though I only had a dick which, she reiterated, could be useful.

I then said to her that it must be wonderful to be the sexiest person in the bed, and she just smiled. I added that if another man joined us, she would of course be the sexiest one on the bed because he would be, after all, only a man. And if another woman joined us she would still be the sexiest one on the bed because I couldn't imagine another woman being as sexy as her. Then I added that another woman might match her or almost match her in sexual passion and stamina. Wouldn't that be incredible? I would just watch with wonder as two sex goddesses made love on and on.

I didn't bring up the subject of a threesome again because I didn't want to lose her to a woman. I was genuinely afraid that if I put the thought in her mind too often, she might overcome her traditional upbringing and mindset, and find herself a woman who'd have endless oral sex with her. Where there's be no yucky dick for her to deal with. I didn't want her to get rid of me.

She loved me, a mere man, but she also thought that any cock was yucky, and she didn't want to touch it or have intercourse with a dick. Or - heaven forbit - to blow a dick. All she really wanted sexually was for me to tell her how beautiful and sexy she was and to go down on her.

I didn't think she was a lesbian because of how much she liked sex when we first had intercourse, and how much she LOVED sex when I went down on her.

But what was going on in her mind when I went down on her? Was she thinking about women? And why, during one of the increasingly rare times we had intercourse, did she sometimes abruptly tell me to stop? Was it because she realized she was in bed with a man, rathe than a woman with a strap-on?

I didn't want to help give her the option of choosing a woman over me. I knew I loved her and was sure she was in love with me. I didn't want to lose her even though I knew that, sexually, she would be much better off with another woman.

As you can see, our sexual relationship was complicated. Sometimes it was frustrating in the extreme. But I should emphasize that often it was the greatest experience of my life. Good, bad, and puzzling. Sexually inferior me - a mere man - wasn't entitled to a better mixture.

I was an inexperienced virgin before I met her. I knew she was a narcissist compared with other girls. But maybe most or all girls were passive and selfish in bed? And because every girl was super sexy compared with a mere man, maybe every girl used sex as a way to manipulate and even control their man? I had no idea.

The frequency of our lovemaking declined more and more. Even the times I just went down on her were fewer and fewer. I assume she didn't ask me as often because she didn't want the possibility of getting into an argument with me over whether I should also be able to get off. And she might also be afraid I was going to ask her to have intercourse.

But then came another time when Marie stopped me in the middle of one of our increasingly rare intercourse sessions, saying that it was hurting her. But I kept going anyway. I was so close to a rare come inside her, I just needed another few seconds to come. I decided that, after all, she had already come many times from oral sex, and had screamed with pleasure while I was first inside her. Wasn't it fair that I could come one time?

But during those few seconds - and also afterwards - she said "no" and "stop". But I continued, and came. Afterwards she lay there with her eyes shut saying "stop, stop". Even though I had stopped.

Had I just raped her? I was wracked with guilt. Maybe I had raped her? It was only a few seconds! But she had told me to stop. But she had come 10 times and I hadn't come at all!

I lied and told her I hadn't realized she wanted me to stop. I told her that I was so close to coming, so focused, that I hadn't heard her. I'm not sure whether she believed me.

But despite my pleas, she never told me what was going on in her mind. She wouldn't ever tell me what made her want to stop.

We didn't make love for a month after that, and then I just went down on her. I didn't even suggest intercourse or a hand job because I felt so guilty over the possibility that I might have raped her. Then we did the same thing a week later. Soon we were having regular lovemaking sessions, but without intercourse or a hand job.

Sometimes I would come from rubbing myself on her leg while I kissed her beasts and rubbed on her clit. But mostly she would leave the bed after coming countless times from oral sex, and then she would get into the shower. While the shower was running I only needed a minute to jerk myself off because I was so turned on and could think about her incredible, passionate body writhing and coming again and again. Then I would join her in the shower.

Soon this was our routine. Our only routine. As before, she came easily, like a porn goddess. I'm sure she knew I was jerking myself off after we made love. Surely she could smell and see the evidence. But we never spoke of it. And we almost never had intercourse again.

Finally I couldn't take the sexual frustration any more. I decided to play the only card I might possibly have had. Intimacy. I knew that she loved me and loved sleeping next to me each night, curled up against me. So I told her that we should start sleeping apart.

I said this in part to try to shock her and in part to let her know that our relationship was crumbling. And in part to try to leverage intimacy into sex. I did this even though I loved sleeping with her.

I explained that it was incredibly frustrating for me to sleep with such a sexy woman but not be able to have intercourse with her. Which was 100% true. And that the only way I could remain sane was to sleep by myself. Which was mostly true.

We slept apart for a few weeks. But one evening she made out with me and then got on top of me. Intercourse!

We then made a new implicit bargain. We would sleep together in the same bed again. And have intercourse on rare occasions. And I'd go down on her frequently and also rub her off, without asking for anything in return. She continued to talk of marriage, and I continued to say that I was too young.

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One day we were shopping and saw an unusual item in an antique store. A dusty case containing two little bottles. They were labeled, "His and hers magic love potions. Drink this and in 30 minutes it will permanently turn your body into whatever body your lover thinks is ideal. Its effects cannot be reversed. But they will only work on couples who are in love."

Would it work? If so, I would finally get my chance to see what Marie craved! I would find out the type of man she really wanted - and I would turn into that man! Surely I would become one of the hottest looking guys on the planet, someone worthy of Marie. Even though I didn't think she cared about male looks, it could only help our relationship.

And maybe I would become as sexual as her? Maybe we would finally become sexual equals! Or as close to an equal as any man could possibly become to her. Instead of getting 1/100 as much pleasure from sex as she did, maybe I'd get 10%. And, for the first time I might get some clues about what had been going inside her head when we made love. Especially those times when she told me to stop.

Eying the bottles, Marie observed, "The potion will be wasted on me because my body is already perfect. But I'll take it. And then let's see what the potion does for you."

We purchased the antique kit and took it home. With complete confidence Marie drank the bottle of potion. We talked for 30 minutes and then she stripped.

"No changes in you, Marie. You were right. To me, you've always been perfect. The ideal face, hair, breasts, rear, legs, body, everything."

Marie looked down at her naked body, and then stared into a mirror. "Are you blind? I've changed quite a bit. I've changed back into the 18 year old girl I was when we first met 4 years ago. I guess your idea of beauty froze when you first saw me. So you simply see me the way you've always seen me - as perfect. This is understandable. Quite understandable.

But in reality the effect of the potion was to take 4 years off my age, to give me 4 more years of awesome beauty! Thank you so much! Now it's your turn."

I drank the other bottle of potion and quickly started to change. Feeling strange I stripped. Everything started to get fuzzy.

Marie exclaimed, "You're changing so much - getting better and better looking. Your body is getting sexier than anything! You lucky thing. You're becoming the most incredible, best looking hottie in the world! You're getting more awesome by the minute!"

I looked down at my body and could see that I was becoming... female. I looked at my hands, looked at the breasts that were forming on my chest. I looked at my shrinking dick.

After some time I was no longer the old me. I looked into a mirror and saw that I was turning into... a perfect copy of Marie! Down to the last detail. Minute by minute the changes came.

We both stared at me, speechless. We looked into a mirror at both of us as the changes stopped. We were both too stunned to speak or move.

Same height. Same face. Same body. Same hair, breasts, nipples, legs, rear, pussy. Same voice. Same everything.

"My gosh, Marie... What does...?"

"You're so lucky. You're now the ideal person from both of our perspectives!"

"But... I'm a girl!"

"Yes! You lucky creature! It's like you just won the lottery! Now that you're a girl - permanently! - I freely can tell you that girls are superior to guys in every way. Especially in terms of beauty and sexually. Because we're infinitely prettier, more passionate, more romantic, and can come many more times, with multiple orgasms.

Guys are so boring. Their cocks and balls are disgusting pee sticks. Dicks are useful because they can bring girls pleasure. Of course, a girl can use a strap-on or another toy to bring the same or even better pleasure to another girl. Because a girl-dick is always hard and can be any size you want that day. It can also be any color you want and can smell any way you want - which certainly would not be a pee smell. Boy dicks are so inferior to girl-dicks, so 20th Century! They're completely useless and obsolete unless a girl wants to get pregnant.

And girls - especially girls like me - and now you! - are so gorgeous, so soft and sensuous, so passionate. So looking at a girl, touching a girl, and watching a girl in the throngs of making love is incredible! True? And now I get to do it as well."

"Well, yes, but from my perspective..."

"Look at it this way. Even though I always told you I loved you and only you, you always worried you'd lose me to someone better looking, sexier. Right?"

"Right."

"Well, now there's no one better looking than you are! No one sexier. You're perfection itself. You've been infinitely improved."

"Well, yes, in all of those ways I gain... but what do you get out of it?"

"OMG! By that silly question you mean - in addition to me now being able to kiss the prettiest girl in the world, suck the sexiest nipples and breasts in the world, rub my perfect pussy against another one, etc.?

I now have an equal in bed! No one with a silly primitive peeing-cock could ever be my sexual equal in bed. Or even be in the same league as me. Or deserve to make love with me. But now I have an equal. A sexual equal!"

"I... didn't realize you're a lesbian. When did you realize you're a lesbian?

"I don't think I'm a lesbian. Well, I guess it depends upon how you define the word. I fell in love with you - the male you. Didn't I? Even though you were only an inferior pathetic man and you only had a yucky cock that could only come once, or after a rest, twice. Instead of having a beautiful perfect female body that can come countless times. So emotionally and romantically I'm not a lesbian becuse I fell in love with a person who was a male.

But in terms of physical/sexual superiority - well, of course there's no contest. Cocks are pathetic and inferior in terms of function and are gross looking - no offense to the old you. And in the age of strap-ons they're woefully obsolete.

Not just yours - all cocks. As cocks go, yours was very nice and you knew how to use it. And you really cared about pleasing me which, from what my friends tell me, puts you ahead of most guys.

But it was still only a male cock. It could give me pleasure when you fucked me with it, but then it got soft and useless. Even though for a man you made love well, after your cock would come one little time it would go limp for long enough to wreck the mood. Even though I'd want more, I had to wait for it to get hard again. And I didn't want to wait. Which is why I insisted that you just go down on me and not come."

Your old cock couldn't give me nearly as much pleasure as you could right now if you put on a strap-on, because a strap-on will never get soft. You won't lose interest in using it after you come multiple times. The absence of fear of losing your erection will give you more confidence. And I can suck your breasts while you fuck me, which will excite both of us. And open my eyes occasionally and see a beautiful face (not a boring male face).

In fact, I can't wait until we buy you a strap-on! Once you put it on, you'll be the most incredible sex partner possible. Much better than a man in terms of your dick, because a girl-dick is better than a boy dick. And perfection -a beautiful girl - in every other respect.

Having a cock handicaps a man because he thinks its his primary sex tool, while it's really #3 behind his tongue and fingers. Actually, #6, because a woman's soft sexy body and breasts, and passion is also more important, as is her mind.

Plus, you had no pussy, no breasts, no beauty, no curves - poor you! Poor anyone in bed with you or with any man. Is it so wrong that I want a sexual equal? I'm so sexy that only a beautiful, passionate woman could ever be my equal. Only I could be my equal!"

"Does this help explain why you sometimes stopped me during intercourse?"

Silence

"Yes. I feared you were about to come. Which would mean the end of pleasure for me, for a while if not for the rest of the day. And there would be gross sperm inside of me. I'd resent that you weren't instead going down on me, which I like better.

Then I'd fixate about how gross cocks are, how men pee with them, as compared to how perfect I am. I'd resent having a disgusting cock inside me, even though it made me feel great sexually.

Now that you're a beautiful girl I can be honest with you. Now that you're beautiful and you have a beautiful pussy, not a gross dick and balls."

Then something remarkable happened. For the first time ever, Marie took the more active role in our lovemaking. She didn't tell me what to do to her. Rather, she acted.

Marie turned me so that I faced her, and stared into my eyes. After a long pause she embraced me softly. Our tits pressed into each others as we tentatively kissed. Then our kiss grew more passionate. Our nipples hardened and pressed together.

"Now you too are perfect" Marie whispered. "Your lips are perfect, your face is smooth and perfect. You're the most beautiful woman in the world. I can feel your perfect nipples expanding out from your perfect breasts and pressing against mine. There's nothing in the world as sexy as your breasts -- except mine of course. We're so intimate - more intimate than the old you could even dream of being."

"Can I call you Ann from now on? I'm "Marie", so together we're "Annmarie", my full name. Separately and together we're perfect. I'm now in love with the perfect sex goddess. Ann!"

Mutely I nodded. She grabbed my now-sexy rear and pulled us together again, kissing me wildly in a huge number of places, lips, face, neck, up and down my body, while our pussies were forced against one another. Her eyes bulged with pleasure and then her kiss turned into the most passionate kiss ever.

Her hands roamed all over my body while she exclaimed, "You're incredible! Beautiful! Sexy and gorgeous! I can't help myself, you're unreal. I want you more than I've ever wanted anything.

Right now! I want to - have to - pussy fuck you! Pussy fuck you until we both pass out! Finally I've met someone worthy of making love with me."

Then she pushed me down onto the bed and leaped onto me. Straddling me, she kissed me from head to toe, and then started over, slowly licking me everywhere while our breasts and pussies rubbed. She started to trib me, which was a good thing because I was paralyzed. I had never experienced anything like it - there was so much pleasure I couldn't move. So this was what she had experienced all these years? I knew I was about to come like I had never come before!

She fucked me like a crazy woman, clit to clit, sometimes going up on her hands while I sucked her breasts, other times going down for a kiss. All the while telling me how pretty I was, how sexy, and tribbing, rubbing, kissing, and licking me all over. Especially on my clit.

My first girl come arrived quickly and explosively. It went on almost endlessly. The orgasms became more and more intense, each one was - as Marie had said - 10 or 100 times better than my old guy comes. As Marie had said, no guy could ever be her sexual equal. Few girls could either.

While Marie was on top of me I could tell that Marie too was orgasming almost nonstop. Although she had come easily when making love with the male me, those were nothing compared to her reactions now. There was sexual bliss for both of us.

Afterwards we just held each other. And told the other how much we loved her. And Marie told me she liked tribbing me even more than oral sex.

-----------------------

That was a year ago. The happiest year of both our lives. We each have had to make a number of adjustments, of course. We moved to a new city and got married. We told everyone we were a lesbian couple whose ancestors had come from the same part of Europe, but that we were not in any way related.

Marie tried to teach me everything about being a girl, especially about clothing and makeup. But maybe because I still am, mentally, a heterosexual man, I just learned the minimum. I've never really gotten completely comfortable wearing dresses or skirts in public, for example.

But I quickly learned that panties are much nicer to wear than male underwear. And I love how I look when I wear sexy lingerie for Marie!

It's nice not having to shave and not having to worry about going bald. I like wearing perfume but don't wear makeup. Of course, I'm so pretty I don't need to. My periods are a nuisance, as every woman knows.

I wanted to look different from Marie, so I died my hair black and cut it to a medium length. By contrast, Marie's light brown hair is long and flowing, and cut very differently from mine. She always wears makeup and dresses stylishly. She usually wears skirts or dresses. I wear loose and casual, even frumpy, clothing, usually jeans. So we look somewhat different.

All this made her the better looking half of the couple. Which was fine with both of us. But, honestly, I look incredible.

Unexpectedly, Marie changed too. Being married to a girl as pretty as herself made her narcissism diminish, almost disappear. Somehow making love with "herself", with a girl who she considered her worthy equal, made her generous in bed. Now she gets pleasure from giving me pleasure. Which she does almost every day.

For example, we have a routine we often follow both when we wake up and when we go to bed. She kisses me and tells me how much she loves me and how beautiful I am. She gently places one finger on my clit, her other hand on one of my tits, kisses me and whispers how lucky she is to have me as her wife. She kisses me all over, and rubs my clit until I come, and then she usually goes down on me until I come again.

Then I tell her that I'm the luckiest girl in the world to be her wife and that I love her too. I then reciprocate sexually. Usually she lets me continue. But sometimes Marie tells me not to, especially if we're short of time, and that making her princess come has brought her all the pleasure she could ever want.

On weekends we always have at least two lengthy sex sessions - no doubt the seismographs in the area register an earthquake!

During our extended (often 3 hour!) lovemaking sessions we use a strap-on or feeldoe. Our ritual is that we flip a coin, and the winner gets to be the girl. The loser has to take the male role, often pretending to be a boy. And fuck the girl for as long as she likes. We often do a role play where the "boy" pretends to be "Harold" (my old name), wears a shirt and tie, and the girl tells him that he's the best looking, best male lover in the world, with the best cock.

We're such a hot looking couple that we get stares wherever we go. From both men and women. Even though we have no interest, sexually, in anyone else, I have to admit that I enjoy having a beautiful body and sexy face. I enjoy being the envy of everyone I see.

Countless men have looked at us with envy, and we of course get propositioned quite often. I've heard dozens of men whisper with jealousy - or even say things loudly - how much fun we must have in bed, how many multiple orgasms we must give each other. I pretend not to hear them, and remember when I felt jealous of women's sexuality.

But I especially love it when other women look at us with envy. Especially when straight women who are married to men give me a look that seems to say that they'd go gay for me.

Many women have admitted to us that they're jealous we had the courage and wisdom to marry another woman. And although the number of women who've asked whether we'd do an all-girl threesome with them is less than the number of guys who proposition us, it's still been an incredible number.

And on account of all this attention, to be frank, I'm starting to become a bit narcissistic.