Girl Drink Drunk Pt. 02

Rebecca had given me the best blowjob of my life, and I had passed out immediately under the huge, soft comforter of our suite's California king, without even putting my pajamas back on. The taste of the piña colada lingered in mouth. I didn't realize until the next morning that Rebecca had put the magic powder in my drink, not hers.

I had gone to sleep as a 50-year-old middle manager with a classic dad bod, but that's not who I saw in the mirror this morning. She was a twenty-something bombshell, the sexiest woman I had ever seen. Her face was something out of a Disneyfied porno - huge eyes, a button nose, perfect plump lips, long dark hair curling over her shoulders, with large firm breasts over a trim waist. She twisted slightly so I could see the curve of her thick ass. She lifted her hands to her face, revealing well-developed shoulders and biceps. She opened her sensual mouth and said, "Who are you?"

I gasped at my sultry contralto voice. She was me. She--me--was the fantasy I had created. The fantasy that **Rebecca** had created.

"Oh, my God. It worked. It actually worked."

I turned to see Rebecca standing in the door way. Yesterday, I had been an inch or two taller than her. Now, she easily had six inches on me. I felt small next to her, yet safe. Secure. Protected.

She took me by shoulders and held me at arm's length. "You look amazing. Perfect. A vision." A part of my brain knew I should feel betrayed, but her praise sent waves of warmth and delight through my whole body.

"Turn around. Show me that glorious new body of yours. That body of **mine**."

Without thinking, I posed and rotated. Rebecca smirked and said, "Good girl."

Another shiver of delight. My knees felt weak. I wanted to kneel on the bathroom floor and bury my face in her pussy. What had happened to me?

She turned me to face the mirror, putting one hand on my breast and another on my stomach. "Look at you," she whispered in my ear. "You're absolutely perfect. How is this even possible?"

The naked woman in the mirror had flawless skin the color of a latte, with no tan lines. Her--no, my--breasts hung heavy but firm over visible abs, two large dark nipples becoming hard from arousal. I had broad, rock-climber shoulders with toned arms, and my waist narrowed then flared out into magnificent hips. Rebecca ran her hands down my ribs, over my stomach, to a perfectly smooth pussy. My legs were as muscular as my arms, with rounded thighs and rock-hard calves. She could have been--no, I could have been--an athlete, a lingerie model, a fitness influencer, any of them and all of them at once.

Rebecca had made me into her perfect woman.

My wife stood behind me, her lips kissing the side of my neck. "I thought you were a fool, Paul, for wasting money on such obvious garbage." Her greedy mouth nibbled my shoulder. "I knew you would wake up, embarrassed, and apologize meekly like you always do." She bit the lobe of my ear. "So I wrote down a description of a girl I had a crush on in college, a soccer player I was too shy to even talk to." Her hand reached up and held my neck. "With ample additions from the smut I read online." She pinched my hard nipple, and I shivered.

"You look more wonderful than I even imagined." Her hands squeezed my waist and cupped each of my breasts. As one hand massaged my nipple, the other dropped down to brush my clit. (I had a clit?!?) "God, your ass..." She slapped my ass, hard, and I shuddered so violently that I had to catch myself on the bathroom counter.

I caught my breath so I could speak. "I--I need to piss."

Rebecca laughed, let go of me, and made an exaggerated pouty face. "Of course, you do, princess. Be quick."

----

I lay facedown on top of Rebecca, my tongue buried deep in her labia. Somehow, I knew an encyclopedia of techniques for eating her out, and the pleasure centers of my own brain nearly overloaded as I did so. In this moment, all I wanted was to make Rebecca cum in a dozen different ways.

"Paula! Yes!" She pronounced my name the Spanish way, pow-la, as she moaned it out. She had never moaned "Paul," not once in our whole marriage. Hearing my new name from her lips made me wet. "More! That's it! More!" She grabbed my hair and held my face between her legs as the orgasm rocked through her body. "Yes! Yes! Ohhhh--" Words collapsed into wordless screams as she came over and over.

Finally, she'd had enough. "Stop, stop, too much. Come up here." I climbed up her tall, long body, and she pulled me into a deep, penetrating kiss. "Oh my god, I can taste myself on you." She kissed me again. "What kind of black magic were you performing with your tongue down there?" Another kiss. "You are more than I ever dreamed."

I nuzzled into her breast as golden warmth exploded from heart. Was this true happiness?

She turned me onto my back. "Your turn, my little slut."

No, *this* was true happiness.

----

An hour or two later, I woke up, my head resting on Rebecca's chest, her hand caressing my ass. My throat was a little sore. We had discovered that Paula was a screamer. I felt so peaceful. Blissful. So cherished by my wife. No, my mistress. As we had sex, I felt my ego melt away. All I cared about was making her feel good. I looked up at her and studied the curve of her jaw. I thought I had loved her. Now, I worshipped her.

I slipped my hand into her slit and gently touched her. She was soaking wet. I didn't want to wake her up abruptly, so I worked slowly, so slowly, until she purred herself into full wakefulness. She kissed my forehead, and I melted.

"We have a problem, princess."

I panicked and rose up on my elbow. "Oh, no! What is it?"

"The Tropical Magic transformed you, but it didn't do anything for your clothes. We need to go buy you some outfits."

We searched Rebecca's closet for something that would fit me. Though I was much shorter than her, my bust and hips were significantly larger. The combination that finally worked was a pair of hot pink boy shorts she'd brought for wakeboarding and a black tank top. The shorts hugged my curvy butt and showed off my muscular thighs extremely well. None of Rebecca's bras even came close to fitting (I could not believe how much bigger than her I was!), but the top was tight enough that it held everything in. Or at least, it held everything in enough for us to make a short trip to the resort shops.

The stares began as soon as I left the room. A gawky young man pushing a room service cart literally ran into a wall because he was staring at me instead of where he was going. As we walked through the lobby and out onto the beach, I could feel every eye on me. Rebecca wrapped her arm around me possessively and clamped her hand onto her ass. No mistaking it--I was taken.

As a man, I had hated shopping for clothes. Now, as a beautiful young woman with a perfect body who wanted to show off for her wife, I wanted to buy everything. Rebecca seemed to take pleasure in telling me no, and honestly, it turned me on every time she did. I worried that everyone around me could see how wet I was, and that just turned me on even more. All afternoon, I kept getting up on my tiptoes and stealing kisses from my beautiful wife. I loved how tall she was, how fit and lean were her arms and legs, and, most of all, how much she loved showing me off at each store.

"This is my wife," she would announce. "What do you have that will be fun to take off?"

We settled on a couple of revealing bikinis, a few casual outfits that were barely larger, and a thin coverup for the pool. We only had a few more days at the resort, so as much as I begged, Rebecca wouldn't let me buy more. We worked in a quickie back in the room, changed into our suits, and lounged by the pool for a couple of hours. I couldn't decide what I loved more: rubbing sunscreen onto Rebecca's body, or letting her rub it all over mine.

After we'd been at the pool for about an hour, a server brought over a couple of tall frozen drinks with bright umbrellas. "From the gentlemen," he said, and nodded to a couple of gorgeous men on the other side of the pool. They looked like a father and son, both muscular with hairy chests. The older one was a definite silver fox, a bit of a Pierce Brosnan type.

We raised our glasses to them in thanks, then shared a deep, passionate kiss. Rebecca brushed her hand over my breast, reached up to pull my hair, then ran her lips down the length of my neck.

They sent over two more drinks.

----

In our room, Rebecca sat on the bed while I knelt on the floor in front of her, working my black magic on her. I brought her climax once, twice, a third time, so that I knew she would be in a good mood for my request.

She lay back, spent, and I curled up next to her so I could whisper in her ear. "Rebecca, my love, my mistress, my sun and moon and stars--"

"Yes?"

"Well, I want to look perfect for you at dinner and surprise you with a new look. But I have only been a woman for a day, silly little me doesn't know how to do my hair or makeup, and I don't have a thing to wear to a nice restaurant. May I--" I took her nipple into my mouth for a moment-- "borrow your credit card? Please?"

She moaned slightly as I lowered my hand between her legs. "Of course, my love."

"The black card?"

Rebecca laughed. "You're an expensive little pet, aren't you? Fine."

I squealed with delight. I hugged her tight and kissed her all over. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." I jumped up and put on one of my new outfits as quickly as possible. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I looked amazing in a pair of tiny denim cutoffs and an extra tight crop top.

I grabbed Rebecca's credit card from her wallet and slid it into my back pocket beside my cell phone. "See you at dinner!"