Just us girls

Tuesdays were always quiet at the bookstore.

My name is Michael, and I went to West Crest University, trying to get my bachelor's in media studies, but since media studies doesn't exactly pay well, I needed a side gig to to get me through college. I found the bookstore, and have been working there for almost a year.

The fluorescent lighting buzzed faintly above, and the faint scent of cardboard and toner floated in from the stockroom. Most students were in class or pretending to be. The only sounds were the occasional beep of the register and Meghan humming softly to herself as she tapped at the keyboard, trying to fix a price override.

She stood behind the counter in her usual workwear--black leggings that clung lovingly to her hips, and an oversized heather-gray hoodie with the campus logo across the chest. The sleeves were shoved up to her elbows, exposing soft, pale forearms dotted with light freckles. Her braid was loose today, the end tied with a faded pink scrunchie, and a few strands framed her face in a way that made my chest ache.

She didn't know what she did to people. Or maybe she did and just never used it. That was the thing about Meghan--she wasn't trying to be hot. She just was.

I remember when I met her for the first time. She was dating someone, but I can't forget her smile. She sat in front of me in my women in media class, and we somehow ended up working at the same bookstore.

She stretched a little, reaching behind her to grab a sticker gun off the shelf. The hoodie lifted just slightly, and I caught a peek of the waistband of her panties--white, maybe cotton, just barely visible above the seam of her leggings, making my heart flutter and my groin blink. I turned away fast, pretending to reorganize a table of discounted paperbacks.

She used to wear tighter, flirty clothes when she was with Alex--her last serious boyfriend.

That relationship had fizzled around midterms last semester. Before him, it was two short things with guys named Ethan and Troy, both of whom, according to Meghan, "talked a big game and never delivered." That was her exact phrase. I remembered because it made me wish I could have been either of them, I would have showed her a big game.

She hadn't dated anyone in a few months now. Said she was "enjoying the peace." But she still joked about being horny constantly, usually in Jennifer's direction. Half-serious, half-deflection. I wondered, sometimes, if she even noticed how I looked at her when she said those things.

I'd been in love with her since sophomore year, hell since that one class of "Women in media". We started as coworkers. Then we shared a few shifts. Then coffee. Then inside jokes. Then secrets. By now, we were close enough that people assumed we were dating. Except we weren't. Not yet.

But today, I was going to tell her. Finally, there would be no interruptions. It wasn't going to be anything dramatic.

Just: "Hey, want to grab dinner tonight?" And if she smiled, I'd follow it up. "I mean, just the two of us. Not just friends."

I'd practiced it in the mirror. Rehearsed it under my breath on the walk to work. Wait for a lull. Catch her in that warm, glowy mood she got around 4 p. m. when her shift was ending. It was going to be perfect.

Then the front door swung open with a slam. That was my first sign that things would go off the rails.

"Megggg!" Jennifer's voice rang out, sharp and smug, before she even stepped inside.

Jennifer always entered like she was announcing herself to a spotlight. Today was no exception. Her black Doc Martens thudded against the linoleum. Her eyeliner was dark and winged so far it nearly touched her temples, and her oversized flannel hung open over a cropped black tank that clung to her chest.

Her breasts bounced slightly as she walked, clearly wearing no bra, her shorts were small enough that the curve of her ass peeked out with every step. She was attractive, sure, but she just wasn't my drink of choice.

She was chaos, curated. She had a boyfriend: Matt. Tall, rough, worked nights at a local bar. I'd never met him, but I'd seen a blurry Instagram story of his hand gripping Jennifer's thigh as she wore a tube top and a plaid skirt with the caption "ruined." She mentioned him in passing sometimes, but never with the same softness Meghan used when talking about someone she actually liked. It was always, "Matt's coming over," or "Matt wants a blowjob, so I'm skipping Econ to get railed."

It was obvious Jennifer wore her sexuality on her sleeve, while Megan didn't. It's not that it bothered me, but I much preferred the soft subtleness of Meghan to the rambunctious loudness of Jennifer.

Meghan looked up, surprised. "Jen?"

"I've been texting you. You're ghosting me now?"

"My phone's dead." Meghan held it up with a guilty smile. "Died halfway through my shift."

Jennifer sauntered behind the counter, leaning one elbow on the register, showing off her cleavage and nudging Meghan with her hip.

"You promised me Sephora and the mall. Don't play like you forgot."

Meghan's eyes lit up. "Shit, that was today?

Could have sworn it was tomorrow!"

Jennifer shrugged. "I mean, I'm freshly paid, and I need someone to talk me out of buying six lip stains and a body shimmer I'll never wear. Honestly, I don't even know why I even bother, most of it ends up on Matt's Weiner," she said while she stuck her tongue out before Meghan ribbed her.

"Would you stop your whoring for one second? Okay let me see if I can leave early?" Meghan said as she moved to the register.

I cleared my throat gently, stepping forward. "You're going now?"

Jennifer turned to me, sizing me up like she always did--playfully, but sharp. "Don't worry, bookstore boy. We'll return you to your natural habitat soon enough."

While Jennifer and I were friends, I was much closer to Meghan. Jennifer never outright bullied me, but I always got the sense she didn't like me that much. The feeling was kind of mutual honestly. She was never outright hateful, but she would always tease me and make playful jabs, " Bookstore boy" was her latest.

"Actually," Meghan said, brushing her braid back, "you should come."

I blinked. "Me?"

Jennifer laughed. "Are you trying to give him a heart attack? There are easier ways you know."

"I'm serious," Meghan said. "It'll be fun. We never hang out outside of work. I mean that's not entirely true, but it's been a while! And it's a slow day. Tuesday am I right?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but Meghan stepped around the counter and looped her arm casually through mine. Her body pressed gently to my side--warm, soft, familiar in the most dangerous way. She could have asked me to lick the floor then, and I'm sure a part of me would have.

"You'll come, right?" she asked, tilting her head up. Her eyes were green, soft, flecked with gold. I felt her hip against mine. The warmth of her arm. The faint scent of shampoo and something sweeter, almost like vanilla. I was supposed to ask her out today. Instead, I nodded, as I realized my plans would be detailed thanks to the chaos agent in short shorts.

"Yeah," I said. "Sure."

Jennifer clapped once. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

I didn't know what that meant then. Thought it was just another random, messy hangout with the girls. I didn't know I was about to get pulled into something I couldn't undo. And I didn't know I'd want to stay.

We closed up shop. Or at least waited for the next shift to come in so we could hand things over.

Meghan wanted to go home to change, because in her words "I am not going shopping in these clothes" so Jennifer said she would drop her home and pick me up on the way.

I went back to my apartment, dropped off my backpack and took a look at myself in the mirror. I was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. I never had the most masculine frame, but I always thought that was my selling point. I always thought that girls would flock to me since I had that nerd appeal. I was wrong. I hadn't exactly had the best luck with women, in fact Jennifer and Meghan were the only women I was talking to on a regular basis.

My phone buzzed. The girls were on their way to pick me up. I took a deep breath. Was this really something I was going to do? Going shopping with the girls? This was my last chance to drop out, I could just take the L, and ask Meghan out another time. But as I picked up my phone, I realized that any time with her was a victory, even if I had to spend time with Jennifer as well.

I walked out to the curb and saw Jennifer in her car with Meghan in the passenger seat. "Get in loser! We're going shopping!" Jennifer said with a giggle. I got in the car and noticed Meghan had changed out of her leggings and was wearing a yellow sundress with a hoodie because she always got cold.

The ride to the mall was mostly uneventful. I kept trying my hardest not to stare at Meghan's legs but failing. Jennifer was her usual self, making jokes and occasionally making Meghan laugh.

The mall was loud, overlit, and filled with things I couldn't afford and people I didn't want to be seen by. But I followed them anyway.

Jennifer led the way, swaying her hips like she wanted to be watched. Her cropped flannel shirt slipped off one shoulder, revealing her crop top. Her shorts were even tighter than I remembered--cut high enough to show just the under-curve of her ass when she walked too fast. I didn't mean to stare. But I did.

Meghan was softer. She wore a yellow sundress under her hoodie now, like she'd changed into something girly and casual without even thinking about it. Her legs were long, her steps light, her braid swaying in rhythm with her laugh.

I was invisible compared to them. I hovered just close enough to catch the scent of them when the breeze shifted.

At Sephora, Jennifer vanished instantly into the aisles, muttering something about needing "cock-hungry mascara." Meghan lingered by the glosses and let me vote on colors. I said "peach" because it felt safe.

She smiled. "You always go for the sweet ones."

I wanted to tell her that I'd eat peach gloss off her ass if she let me. But I didn't. Instead, I nodded like a puppy.

Jennifer returned with a handful of samples. "What screams 'you'll regret this but you'll remember me'?" as she pointed them towards us.

Meghan giggled. "That red one."

Jennifer smirked. "You just want me to give Matt a stroke."

"Isn't that your job?"

"Only if he asks nicely."

I laughed awkwardly, but neither of them noticed. I felt like a third wheel, which was ironic as if Jennifer hadn't interrupted, this very well could have been my date, and she would have been the third wheel.

The rest of the time at Sephora, I lingered while they shopped. I tried my best not to be bored but truthfully, I was. Meghan noticed and would keep coming to me and asking me for opinions.

Jennifer, meanwhile continued to storm around like she owned the place.

Our next stop was a little boutique tucked between the pretzel stand and a shoe store. Sundresses. Backless tops. Racks of barely-there fabric in pastel and floral prints.

The minute we walked in, both girls vanished, running towards dresses and clothing. Meghan grabbed a wrap dress and disappeared into the fitting room with Jennifer, who grabbed something slinky and black with an open back and maybe two inches of skirt.

"You don't mind waiting?" Meghan asked me, right before her head was about to disappear behind a curtain.

"Not at all," I said. Lie.

"Good. We may take a while, this one takes forever to cum!" Jennifer said with a wink while Meghan ribbed her again.

They vanished behind the curtain while I walked around for a bit before deciding to sit on a bench outside the changing stalls, scrolling aimlessly on my phone. But then I heard them. The sound barrier was no match for their voices.

"Okay, but real question--when was the last time you got wrecked?" Jennifer asked.

"What?" Meghan said.

"Like, throat fucked until you cried? Or laid out and filled up until you couldn't walk straight? Or spanked till your ass was sore. "

Meghan laughed. "Jesus, Jen-"

"I'm serious. You've been acting like a nun ever since you broke up with Alex."

Meghan sighed. "It's just been... a while. Also you know while I support your sexcapades, that's not entirely my vibe."

"Shut the fuck up! Not your vibe? You're the girl who agreed to give a blowjob to the winning quarterback from the football team two years ago wearing nothing but a blindfold! So you're backed up, and it's been a while since slutty M has come out to play. No wonder you're glowing like a bitch in heat."

"Oh my god. Also I dated him after said blowjob fyi." Meghan said as I could sense her breathing change.

Jennifer cackled. " Sure sure. Whatever you say ma'am. You can act holy now, but we both know you have needs. I thought you were gonna jump the cashier when he asked if you needed help with your bag. Or bend over when that old man opened the door for us."

Meghan laughed, softer.

Then Jennifer added, "You know who's dying to be your bag boy though? Dying to bend over for you?"

Pause.

Then, "Michael.". I immediately found myself sitting up straight.

"Don't." Meghan

"Come on. He's always looking at you like you're a treat he's not allowed to taste. Have you seen his cute little puppy dog eyes?"

"He's sweet. The sweetest. " Meghan said as I could feel her about to say something, before I heard her be interrupted by Jennifer.

"He's soft. Like emotionally and physically. I bet if he pulled down his pants, we'd see a clit not a cock. Big dick energy, he has got none."Jennifer said rather dryly as I felt the sting of each word.

"You're mean." Meghan said as I felt proud that she was sticking up for me. She always did.

"Tell me I'm wrong!" Jennifer said with a giggle.

Then, silence. Followed by giggles again.

"You know, I thought he was gay for months. Swear to god." Jennifer said as I felt my head spin.

"He's not." Meghan said.

Jennifer snorted. "I don't know. No straight guy stares at your ass that long. Especially your ass. Mine, sure. Yours? Eh."

"Hey!" Meghan said as I heard the sound of a light slap, as if Meghan slapped Jennifer lightly on the arm, or somewhere else.

"I mean it's cute, but let's be real--it's not exactly a feature. You have to work out your glutes babe. Anyways, what were we talking about? Ah yes, your quest for dick and well Michael. Honestly, tell me is he capable of any of the things we talked about? Any of the things you need? If you say nothing, I'll know." Jennifer said as I strained to listen.

Then silence. For a few beats. Followed by laughter. Sharp. Familiar.

Jennifer added, sing-song, "Maybe he is gay. Or maybe he's just a bottom with a crush. I may be with Matt but I know my men. And he isn't really much of one. I just don't see him packing. At all. Sure, nerds are hung but he just doesn't have that demeanor you know? All I'm saying is, you need dick like yesterday, and while Michael could eat the floor you walk on, he isn't it babe. Not for what you need. Maybe after the dicking down."

Meghan didn't respond. Not right away. I heard a sharp inhale from her, as if she was struggling to defend her point.

Then, finally: "He's just safe. You know? Like one of the girls". My heart dropped lower. I felt visibly shaken.

"Like one of the girls! Exactly. You don't want to fuck him. You want to braid his hair and cry about your period. You can come out of a shower butt naked, and feel totally safe with him. You want to get ran a train on by six anonymous men, and come home to him so you can tell him all the details while he paints your nails." Jennifer said.

"Stop it. I adore him." Meghan said.

"Fine. I'll stop. But we are in agreement you need a real man, yes? Also I'm just saying. If he had a real cock, you'd have noticed by now, or slutty M would and we would not be having this conversation."

They laughed again. Harder. I didn't. I stood up and walked away from the fitting room, pretending to be fascinated by a rack of novelty socks, while trying to fight back tears. Inside my chest: fire and ice. Anger, sadness, disappointment all at once.

At least earlier in the day, I had some hope of dating Meghan, but it seems Meghan did not just look at me that way, but worse. Like I was a girlfriend, or a sissy or a cuckold.

I shouldn't have listened. But I had. I8 shouldn't have cared. But I did. They thought I was soft. A joke. A "clit" A friend, at best. Something to tease and smile at and never actually want.

And worse?

Some part of me liked how that felt. A lonely part of me wanted that. Wanted to be accepted in any form. Longed for any attention from them, from her.

When they came out, arms full of dresses and lip gloss and lace, I smiled like nothing had changed. It was long enough for me to regain my composure or at least act like I had.

Meghan looked at me sweetly. "Ready for the next store?"

"Where to?"

"Victoria's secret!," Jennifer said, smirking.

"Yeah," Meghan added, looping her arm through mine. "You'll love it." I followed.

And I hated how much I wanted to. I couldn't help but think of what they said earlier and if that had any bearing on the shopping now. A part of me even decided to leave, but the other parts knew I would never do that. I also thought of, if they knew I overheard their conversation. It seemed unlikely.

If Sephora felt like an alien planet, then PINK/Victoria's secret was a dream I wasn't supposed to wake up inside. The store was technically two stores, PINK and Victoria's secret, each catering to different clientele. PINK was more for the college girl, the go getter girl, the functional underwear. Victoria's secret sold sex appeal, mystery, and vulgarity disguised as femininity.

We entered through PINK. The walls were a soft coral blush, the air thick with vanilla mist and artificial cotton candy. Panties hung like ornaments--folded, draped, strung in lines. Pastel displays of bras and bralettes framed the space like altars.

Jennifer had barely walked in before muttering something about "too much bubblegum, not enough whore," and vanishing toward a side kiosk for sports bras.

That left me with Meghan. Not like I minded. Especially after what I overheard, I would prefer Meghan to her any day.

She looked completely at home. Her dress swayed softly as she walked, the pale yellow hem fluttering just above her knees. Her braid had come slightly undone, a few strands loose and curling near her jaw. She wore this little smile that made her look like she was walking through a memory.

She drifted to a table of folded panties and began sorting through a bin labeled 5 for $25. Her fingers moved easily, skimming lace, flipping tags, holding one up against the light before placing it in her basket. I stood back, pretending not to notice how delicate everything looked next to her. I pretended to look elsewhere, but it wasn't as easy as in Sephora. I felt like all eyes were on me. It also felt easier to pass off as a disinterested boyfriend in Sephora than it was in here, and part of me wondered if the conversation I overheard had anything to do with it.

Was I just accepting things now? Did I just delude myself into thinking that I could ever get a girl like Meghan? She did like me, perhaps not in that way, but my thoughts went back to the last thing Jennifer said. About consoling her, brushing her hair, and doing her nails while other, more capable men take care of her sexually. What was wrong with me that I was opening up to that idea? Was I so in love with her that any proximity, any closeness, any form of love would do?

She lifted a lavender lace thong--scalloped trim, no waistband, just delicate floral lace that curved like a whisper. "These are the comfiest, plus they're seamless, so absolutely no VPL" she said, mostly to herself, while I hovered in the background.

"VPL?" I asked.

"Oh. Visible panty lines? You know how sometimes you can see the lines of panties when you wear the wrong pants? These are not only things but seamless so they won't even show in the tightest of leggings."

I nodded. Swallowed. Said nothing.

She added it to her basket. Then she picked up a pair of heather gray cotton hipsters with a soft pink waistband that read love more in bubble letters. "I always keep a few of these around. They're like... backup favorites. Do you think they're cute?"

I was in this store with my crush, who was telling me details of her underwear. I was so fucking friend zoned I can't believe I didn't see it. But I couldn't escape. Did I not have the self respect to do so? I didn't know what she meant by that, but I nodded again, too fast.

"Uh yeah. They're cute." I said while thoughts of her in those panties rushed to my head.

Then came the real one--a coral lace bikini with a double strap on the sides and a little bow in front. "These are definitely for when you want someone to notice." she said with a wink, as I once again nodded. She then laughed a little and held it up to her own hips--over the dress quickly. "Not on me, obviously. But on someone who actually likes being stared at."

That stung in a weird way. But it also made me hard. Weirdly enough.

Because I could imagine it on her. All of them.

I saw her in just the lavender lace, lying on her side, one leg bent, reading a book, her tits out, the soft curve of her ass framed perfectly in the delicate mesh.

I saw her in the gray hipsters, curled up under a blanket, watching Netflix, completely unaware she was the center of gravity in any room.

I saw her in the coral bikini, hips swaying in the hallway, taking off her hoodie, one hand brushing her braid over her shoulder like she didn't care who followed her.

She didn't know what it did to me. Or maybe she did, and didn't think it mattered.

"Do you want to split?" she asked, voice light. "Five for twenty-five. I'll take three, you take two."

My body tensed. "What?"

"You don't have to," she added quickly. "It's just... you said the gray ones were cute, right? And well, they're just underwear after all. No one will know."

I had said that. God help me. But this was something else. I couldn't wear panties! I was a man! And well, if I did end up in them, I'd be playing right into their perception of me as one of their girlfriends.

"And these would probably be soft on you," she added, not even waiting for me to respond to her, picking up a dusty navy blue cheeky with scalloped edges.

She wasn't mocking me. She was serious. Gentle. Teasing, but not cruel. Was she leaning into what she talked about with Jennifer? Would she have suggested this to me if they didn't talk about me?

I looked at the panties in her hand. Imagined holding them. Wearing them. I imagined folding them into a drawer at home and knowing they'd touched her first. I imagined working at the bookstore with her, wearing those panties under my clothes, looking at her, knowing she's got a matching pair on, like it's our little secret. It made me happier than I would ever admit.

"Uh. No. I mean. They're cute. But-" I started before she interrupted me.

"But what? Too feminine? I mean, sure, to each their own. You don't have to. I was just suggesting it, I just don't need five pairs you know? And well, I think we both know I can't split them with Jen."

That was true. PINK was not Jennifer's style at all.

"No! I mean come on Meghan! What do you think I am? Some pansy sissy who would do anything for you including completely emasculate myself for you and feminize myself to be a pussy free bestie just to be close to you? No, I will not wear the panties, this was fun but I draw the line here. No"

Or that was what I should have said. Instead I inhaled sharply and said "Okay. They're just underwear. No one will know. I'll try," I said quietly.

She smiled and handed me the blue pair and the gray cotton ones. Her fingers brushed mine, as my heart fluttered.

" Yay! I'll pick up the gray too so we could match! See, I picked out the least girly pairs and colors for you!" she said with a genuine smile.

I grabbed them from her, and felt all eyes on me. And suddenly they didn't feel like panties. They felt like a seal breaking. Like a soft key slipped into the lock of something I'd been keeping buried. They weren't just underwear. They were a door opening. I didn't want to go in but I didn't want to close it.

Before I could ruminate more on the implications of my actions, I was interrupted ( beginning to sense a pattern with her?) by Jennifer.

"Ooh what'd you girlies get?" Jennifer said as she stopped through Meghan's hands.

"I got some panties, I'm splitting them with Michael! Since you know, you won't." Meghan said as I waited to gauge Jennifer's reaction.

I saw a slight smile form on her lips before vanishing. Perhaps it was my imagination after all?

"Oh yeah? Nice! I know tons of men who wear panties, they're just underwear after all!" Jennifer said with a smile.

"Really?" I asked, falling into her trap.

Jennifer sputtered with laughter. "No! I mean I'm sure there are, but no man in my books ever wears them. I'm sure if I asked Matt to wear mine, he'd just tear a hole through them. But to each their own, you do you fam!" she said after coughing something that sounded suspiciously like the word "sissy".

"Don't listen to her. Like I said, it's just underwear. I used to wear boxers all the time!" she said.

"Anyways ladies, we should check out Victoria's next. They'll allow you to check out there so you can hang on to those." Jennifer said before adding " Jeez Michael, they aren't going to explode you know, you don't have to grip them too tight!", pointing to me gripping the panties like they were going to explode.

I followed them to the entrance of Victoria's Secret with every part of me screaming no--except for the part between my legs. The one that overruled all the others. Because that part knew what this store meant.

This wasn't PINK. This wasn't sports bras and soft cotton sleep shorts and little rainbow panties with glitter fonts for university coeds. This was lace and garters and straps. Mannequins posed like they were already halfway through being undressed. Velvet curtains. Perfume thick enough to bite the air.

This was a temple built for men to want women--and for women to decide whether or not to let them. And somehow, I was stepping in. But from which side?

Jennifer was already inside, striding past the checkout line with the confidence of someone who had either worked here or fucked someone who had. Meghan followed close behind, glancing over her shoulder just once--to make sure I was coming. I was. I was too far deep to pull out now.

They drifted toward a wall of matching lingerie sets: bra, panty, garter belt, stockings. Mannequins in glossy black thigh-highs and crimson balconette bras stared blankly at me as I hovered near the entrance like a trespasser. I looked around and saw women of all shapes and sizes, going through the lingerie while paying no attention to me, almost like I was a piece of furniture, or worse: one of them.

Jennifer held up a deep wine-red bra with gold hardware. "This one says, 'I'll ruin your life and wear your hoodie while I do it. Oh my god! Can you imagine this with leggings? Perfect Coachella outfit!.'"

Meghan giggled and ran her fingers along a matching panty. "It's hot."

Jennifer turned to me. "How about you panty boy? You think this is hot?"

My mouth opened and closed. I decided not to protest her jibe. "Sure."

"Which part?" she teased. "The idea of her in it? Or you?"

My face burned as I imagined Meghan in those panties and nothing else. Bending over, seductively, peeling them off. She smirked, tossed the bra into a satin shopping bag, and kept moving.

Meghan held up a peach satin balconette bra with floral lace trim and matching bikini-cut panties. "This one's really pretty too!" It was. Feminine, delicate, soft like the underside of a rose petal. She looked at me. "Do you like this on me?"

I froze.

She backtracked--quickly. "I mean, would you like this for me. Hypothetically."

I nodded. "Yeah."

She smiled. "Then I'll try it on. For you" she added with a wink. My chest thudded. What the fuck was she playing at? She was going to try it on. I was going to be close to her while she wore it. That single thought overrode every instinct that said run.

Jennifer came back with her arms full--three full sets. "We're doing the three-for-a-hundred deal. Full sets. Bras, panties, garters. We'll split it."

She paused, then turned to me. "You in?"

I blinked. "What?"

"Come on," she said. "You already bought panties. Might as well complete the look."

Meghan added softly, "You don't have to. But it could be fun. I don't expect him too though," she said turning to Jennifer, " It took me quite a while to get him to say yes to the panties and that too those dreary drab colors."

Jennifer's smirk widened. "Well, his loss. I'll just say if he said yes, we'll all try ours on. And you'll try yours. Then we'll see who wears it best." she winked.

My brain was caught in a vice. Today's stakes were escalating. I didn't want to wear lingerie. But I wanted to see them wear it.

I wanted to sit outside the dressing room and listen to the rustle of fabric as they pulled straps up over their shoulders, clipped garters to thigh-highs, adjusted cups around their breasts. I wanted to feel the blood rush to my cock as Meghan walked out with her robe slipping open just enough for a glimpse of something sheer. I wanted to be close to that. Even if it cost me. Even if it made me less of a man, or not a man at all.

"Okay," I said. "Fine." apparently agreeing to things monosyllabically was my theme of the day.

Jennifer clapped once. "That's the spirit."

She shoved a plum lace set into my hands--bra with a satin center bow, matching panties, garter belt with gold clasps. It looked delicate. Expensive. Like something I'd only ever seen girls wear in porn or photos they didn't know I saved. I held it like it might shatter, like it was made of glass, foreign and strange. And it was, the straps and the fabric were silky yes, but I could not figure out how to work them.

"You're gonna look adorable," she said. Meghan gave me a look--half-amused, half-curious. But not mocking. More like, she was wondering what I'd do. What I could do. I held it like it might burn me.

Jennifer watched my reaction. "You don't have to freak out. It's just fabric."

I swallowed. "I don't know if I'm comfortable--"

"I get it," Meghan said softly. "You don't have to wear it. But you could. Just once. Try it. See how it feels."

I looked down at the set again. The panties were so small. There was no way I could wear them without showing something. The garters were all straps, and the back of the panties left almost nothing to the imagination. The bra seemed normal at first, well for any bra held by a man I guess, but the sides had patterned holes and wires. There was no way I could wear them and still feel like myself. But I still didn't say no.

Because the image was already there - Meghan in her set, Jennifer in hers. Both under a sheer robe, slipping it off at the right moment. Hair down, lip gloss shining. Turning in a mirror and asking what I thought.

And I didn't want to miss that. No matter what.

"Look," Jennifer said, and her voice surprised me--it was honest. Not teasing. "You don't have to prove anything. But we're not making fun of you. We just... think it could be fun."

"You let us see you," Meghan added. "We let you see us. Equal risk. Equal reward."

My chest tightened. My instinct was still to say no. To leave. To make a joke and toss the bag away. But the part of me that wanted to be near her - near them - was louder. Heavier.

"Okay," I whispered.

Meghan smiled. "You'll be okay."

Jennifer clapped once. "Then it's settled."

She tucked the three sets into a black bag, and handed it to me. "We'll try everything on at my place. Chill night. Music, mirrors, whatever. No pressure. Let's go check out."

"No fitting rooms?" I asked, still holding onto the last thread of escape.

Jennifer snorted. "You think they'd let all of us in there? You'd die!"

Meghan touched my arm. "It'll be better at Jen's. I promise. It'll be safer."

And for some reason, I believed her. We checked out, and none of the cashiers said anything, not like they would have in the first place, but I kept waiting for them to giggle, make fun of me, but they only acted as normal as they should, which further cemented in my mind that the world sees me as one of the girls.

The journey to Jennifer's apartment was mostly uneventful. I kept the bag of lingerie on my lap, unsure if it would blow up if I made the wrong move. I tried not to think too much, but my mind was racing. What was I getting myself into?

Jennifer's apartment was surprisingly clean: sharp angles, cheap but stylish IKEA furniture, and a faint smell of lavender dryer sheets and body spray. Not perfume exactly, more like the residue of a hundred showers and half a dozen candles. Every surface seemed touched by something feminine.

She lived in a two-bedroom unit on the second floor, and her roommate, someone named Kaylee apparently, was out for the weekend.

Meghan kicked off her sandals by the door and padded barefoot across the hardwood floor, her dress fluttering at her knees. She looked relaxed, maybe a little excited, though she tried not to show it.

She pulled her braid over one shoulder and started flipping through Jennifer's speaker playlist.

I stayed near the doorway, holding my Victoria's Secret bag like a nervous kid on his first sleepover. Which I was. This was my first sleepover, ever technically.

Jennifer reappeared a moment later--completely naked, other than a tiny thong. She came from the hallway with no fanfare, towel tossed casually over her shoulder, a wine glass in one hand. Her hips moved like she didn't even notice them. Her breasts were small but full, natural, the nipples a soft, dusty rose that made my throat tighten. Her stomach curved gently into wide hips, her thighs smooth, her ass round with a faint tan line where her bikini had been. She wasn't posing. She just was.

I looked away, after realizing I may have been staring at her tits for too long.

She caught it and laughed. "Oh please. So I'm naked. Big deal. They're just tits. We're all girls here, right? Not nothin' you haven't seen before huh?" she said with a wink.

I remained silent. Jennifer caught it.

" Wait- are you? You- you've never seen a woman naked? What are you a fucking virgin?" she said while howling with laughter so much her towel fell off.

I continued to remain silent, unsure of what to even say.

"Oh boy. I bet your jeans are about to rip huh? Wow! See, I was right!" Jennifer said to Meghan.

Before I could respond, Jennifer herself positioned herself in front of me. " Well, if you have a boner, might as well have fun with it. Knock yourself out! Good thing you're changing into fresh panties!" She said while she bent over, and pulled off her thong, giving me a good look at her bald, bare, pussy. She was right though, my boner was so strong I swore it would have tore through my jeans.

"Jen!!" Meghan exclaimed while Jen giggled, and used the towel to cover her pussy up, leaving her bare breasts still exposed.

"What? I can't have fun with him?" She said with a wink.

"I- I should go. I don't- I don't belong here -" I said as I stood up, my boner now clearly visible.

"Oh please. It's just tits. Do you want me to cover up? Was the nude woman too much for you? Just thought it'd be fun. If anything you should be flattered you get to see all this-" she said gesturing to her nude form " - it's a privilege. Look, you want to leave, I won't stop you and neither will Meghan, but come on, don't be a pussy!" she said as Meghan merely nodded.

Today morning at the bookstore, if you told me I not only had a chance to see Jennifer naked but also potentially see her and Meghan in the most exotic lingerie I would have thought you were off your rocker but here I was, Jen's tits staring back at me.

"Okay. I'll stay. " I said.

Meghan giggled and flopped onto the couch, tucking her legs under her. "You really have no filter Jen. Jeez" she said shaking her head.

"Why would I?" Jennifer grinned, sipping from her glass. "If he's gonna be in lace tonight, he might as well get used to our bodies."

My chest thudded. My cock continued to stir just from the casual boldness of her. Jennifer had tied the towel around her waist--low, almost pointlessly. The top of her mound still showed just enough to burn into my memory.

Meghan turned to me, her voice gentle. "Want to get dressed now, or... wait a bit?"

I hesitated. "I should probably shower first."

"Definitely," Jennifer called from the kitchen, pouring another glass. "Shave, too. All over. Helps make the lingerie feel better"

Meghan nodded. "It'll help with the stockings."

Jennifer leaned into the hallway. "Make sure to shave the butthole too. Boys love that."

I froze.

"And don't make me come in there with a razor," she added. "You wouldn't want me and a blade that close to your jewels."

Meghan laughed, cheeks pink.

I ducked into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. What was I getting myself into? What if this was all a trick? A cheap prank? What if I wore lingerie and got all dressed up only for them to have the football team and cheerleaders outside ready to laugh at me? I moved to the bathroom door to see if I could hear anything but the doors were definitely more soundproof than the changing rooms at the mall.

I was about to give up again when I heard a knock on the door.

"Michael sweetie? You okay? Just wanted to check in on you? You need help? Some parts are hard to reach, I can help if you want!" Said Meghan's voice.

"Uh no. I'm good!" I said as my decision was made up. I was going to shave myself. In Jennifer's bathroom.

I stripped, piece by piece, until I stood naked and pale in the steam created by the running water. I examined my body again, just as I had done before I left this morning, I didn't look strong. I didn't look sexy. I looked like a blank slate- soft around the stomach, narrow in the shoulders, and embarrassingly hard. It faded as the water hit.

I shaved slowly, methodically: legs, arms, chest. My fingers trembled a little when I moved lower. I trimmed, then shaved carefully, above and below. When I turned to the mirror and bent slightly, I hated how natural it felt to make sure everything was smooth, even there.

My thoughts wandered. I thought of Jennifer. Her towel low. Her nipples dark. Her voice calling out with casual dominance. And then I thought of Meghan, smiling so gently as she offered to help. I found myself masturbating, quickly and rapidly, ejaculating in the shower, getting all the horny thoughts out as quick as they came.

I was smooth when I stepped out. My cock looked smaller without hair. Fragile. Like it needed permission to be touched.

I wrapped myself in the towel and returned to the bedroom.

Meghan was sitting on the edge of the bed, sundress still on, sorting through makeup and stockings. Jennifer, still topless, leaned against the dresser, sipping her wine, unconcerned by anything.

She saw me and grinned. "Look at you. Smooth boy."

Meghan's eyes lit up. "You did really well." I nodded, cheeks hot.

Jennifer tossed the plum lace set onto the bed. "Alright, princess. Time to suit up."

The lingerie set lay on the bed like a dare: plum lace bra, sheer panties, and a garter belt with delicate gold clasps and long satin straps. It looked expensive. Intimate. Like it belonged to someone with secrets. I stood frozen in my towel, heart pounding.

Meghan looked up from where she was organizing her makeup and smiled softly. "Do you want help, or do you want to try it yourself?"

"I... don't know how." I said. It was true. While some parts looked self explanatory, some were just too strappy or complex.

Jennifer stepped closer and grabbed the garter belt first, holding it by the side clasps. "This goes on before the panties."

I blinked. "Why?"

She smirked. "Because once you've got your panties on, you can't clip the garter to your stockings unless you're a contortionist. Actually you can, but then you can't remove your panties without removing the garters and it's not going to be sexy let me tell you. I mean I guess you could always push your panties to the side, though I've never been a fan of that. Plus, it looks way sexier this way--garters underneath, panties over."

"Oh," I said dumbly.

"Here," she said, tossing it to me. "Step in. Waistband sits just above your hips."

I clutched my towel tighter than I could until I dropped the towel. I was now naked in front of them. My cock remained semi flaccid. The masturbation helped, and I didn't have a full on boner which was at least slightly less embarrassing? My naked body didn't have the reaction I was expecting. To be honest, I expected laughs worst case or amusement but instead neither of them gasped audibly or made any noticeable reaction.

They didn't need to. Jennifer glanced down at my cock--soft, shy, nestled against my freshly shaved skin. "Cute," she said simply, then turned away like it wasn't worth staring at.

That hurt in a strange, quiet way.

But Meghan looked too--her eyes flicked down, then up again, unreadable. She didn't laugh. Didn't speak. Just watched.

I stepped into the garter belt that Jennifer laid out. The satin band hugged my waist snugly, the straps hanging down, brushing the tops of my thighs like ribbons.

Meghan picked up the thigh-highs--black, sheer, with a lace band. "Sit. I'll help." she said as she sat in front of me, giving me the closest look at her cleavage yet. I obeyed.

She rolled the stockings gently up my legs, smoothing the fabric with careful palms. Her fingers grazed my shin, my calf, my knee. She clipped the garters in place with a soft snap, one at a time. Her face was close enough that I could smell her shampoo.

Jennifer tossed the panties at me. "Now the fun part." I stepped into them, feeling the lace pull tight against my ass. The front panel barely held anything. My cock pressed against the fabric, visible through the mesh like a ghost. The lace felt great on my cock and balls, making my flaccid reaction, stronger.

Jennifer laughed. "Aww, looks like he likes this! The bra goes on next babe" she said as she called me "babe" for the first time, something I had only heard her call Meghan so far.

I turned away slightly as I clipped on the bra. My arms fumbled with the hooks. The band hugged my chest snugly; the cups sat flat, obviously empty, but the way they framed my body made me feel smaller. Prettier. Wrong, but not in a bad way.

Meghan stood and handed me a mirror. I looked. I didn't see a man. But I didn't see a woman either. I saw a shape draped in plum lace and satin. A soft, hairless body held together by ribbons. My thighs looked longer in the stockings. My waist looked slimmer in the garter belt. My cock, barely outlined through the panties, looked more like a suggestion than a threat. I looked like someone halfway to becoming something.

"Wow," Meghan whispered.

Jennifer just grinned. "You clean up better than most girls I know. Plus Megz, you see his ass? That's a girls ass. Even you don't have such an ass!" she said pointing to my derriere which was all but exposed, a thin string separating the two smooth freshly shaved cheeks.

I stared at myself. I didn't know if I wanted to cry or touch myself. I was still holding the mirror when Meghan gently took it from my hands.

"You did it," she said. "You really wore it." she said with disbelief.

"I feel... weird." I said. That was a major understatement.

She smiled. "You look beautiful."

Jennifer flopped onto the bed beside me and stretched out, still nude, completely unconcerned about how her breasts moved with the gesture. "Okay, princess. You're dressed. Time to return the favor."

I blinked. "What?"

Meghan lifted the pink shopping bag from where she'd stashed it on the nightstand. "We helped you. You help us."

Jennifer grinned, sitting up. "You're not getting out of it. I need someone to clasp my garters, and I don't trust her with wine hands."

"I only had two sips," Meghan mumbled.

Jennifer winked. "Then you can go second."

She stood and peeled off her towel, fully nude again, and dug into the bag for her lingerie set--a red mesh triangle bra and panties that looked more like strings than fabric, plus a cherry-red garter belt with velvet straps. I tried not to stare at her pussy and failed.

Jennifer didn't seem to mind, which made me think of what she said earlier, how she could be butt naked with me and still feel safe. It felt less like an insult and more like a compliment at this time. I felt close to both of them, and they felt close enough to be naked with me. Yes, it was emasculating that it kinda precluded me from being a sexual prospect to them, or at least Jennifer but I was growing warmer to that idea.

Her body was the kind of confidence you couldn't fake--breasts soft but high, hips wide, her waist indented just slightly, her stomach unselfconscious. Her thighs had a few stretch marks, and she had the kind of ass you only saw on album covers. She knew it, too.

"Clasp me," she said, tossing the bra over her shoulders and turning. My hands trembled as I reached up and hooked the clasp. Her skin was warm. Close. She adjusted the cups herself and stepped into her panties, pulling them up with a casual shimmy that made my breath catch.

"Now the garter," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and lifting one leg.

I knelt, looking up straight at her pussy before sliding the garter up her thigh. Her foot flexed slightly against my shoulder. She said nothing, just watched me work. Clasp, tighten, adjust. The second leg went on easier. I clipped the stockings to the straps and stood back, hands by my sides. She looked like a woman who'd walked out of a music video and into her own private temple.

"Not bad," she said. "Now your turn." She said as she turned to Meghan. Meghan hesitated.

She stood slowly, brushing her braid back, and opened the bag. She pulled out her set: soft pink satin--a balconette bra with lace trim, high-waisted panties with sheer sides, and a matching garter belt. I held my breath, as Meghan said nothing. She set the pieces on the bed and slipped her arms out of the sundress straps letting it fall to her feet. No ceremony, no coyness, just gravity.

She wore a ratty faded off white bra, and mismatched black satin panties.

"Wow you really weren't expecting to get naked in front of people huh? No wonder you can't get dick, you're wearing your mom's bra." Jennifer said before giggling, Meghan just showed her the finger, continuing to remain silent.

She pointed to her bra as her fingers moved to her back. I felt my body tremble as I moved to her backside, and helped her unclasp her bra, and let it fall to the floor. I stared at her back before she turned around, showing me her bare tits.

Her body was different from Jennifer's--leaner, with small, perkier breasts and a narrow waist that flared gently into soft hips. Her skin was smooth and lightly freckled along her shoulders and chest, her nipples pale and tight from the air. Her stomach was flat, and the curve between her legs was clean, her thighs pressed slightly together in a way that made it impossible not to stare.

She then moved to remove her panties while she positioned herself in front of me, almost as if she didn't want me to see her rear pussy, didn't want me to see the intimate part of her sexuality. The front of her pussy was divine, the perfect triangle, shaved smooth and felt like it was radiating energy.

I felt my panties grow and I tried to cover up but I think the girls noticed. The woman of my dreams was standing butt naked in front of me and was waiting for me to touch her (if not for anything than to dress her). I don't know which twisted genie I wished to grant such a version of my dream.

I went with the bra first. My fingers shook as I reached behind her and found the hooks. Her back was warm. Her skin smelled like shampoo and something sweet. I clipped it. She adjusted the straps, cupping her breasts in her hands for a moment before turning slightly to look at herself in the mirror.

She stepped into her garter next, sliding them up her legs and tucking herself in with a small movement I pretended not to notice. Then she handed me the panties.

"Can you?"

I dropped to my knees without a word, the closest I would probably ever get to her pussy. My hands moved over her thighs, rolling the garter up gently, trying not to touch too much, but needing to adjust the lace just right. I clipped the straps to her stockings one by one.

When I stood again, I realized I was trembling. She looked at me then, right into my eyes. Not with embarrassment. Not with lust. But something deeper. Something unspoken.

Jennifer broke the silence. "Well, don't we look hot. Cunting season is open bitches."

Meghan smiled, brushing her braid back, before she let her hair down. "We kinda do."

And I stood there in plum lace, surrounded by soft perfume, two women in lingerie, and the echo of my own heartbeat in my ears.

I wasn't one of them. Not exactly. But for the first time, I wasn't completely outside the circle either. It felt like a dream, the kind that leaves you flushed and confused when you wake up.

Before I could realize what was happening, they were helping each other with their makeup, while I stood there, trying my best not to feel like an outsider before Jennifer gestured me to join them.

In no time, my face was made up just like theirs, foundation, primer, mascara, lipstick, and a bunch of other things I don't remember and can't bother to recall, were on my face. I opened my eyes at one point and didn't recognize who was staring back.

They led me to the living room, where more wine was opened. After promising me that no pictures would be shared with anyone we took a few, starting from a few solo pictures to duos to group pictures. My skin felt like it would burn every time it felt their soft skin. I don't think I'd ever felt that conflicted, yet so happy.

We finally settled down on the couch, my thong making sure my bare ass was touching the sofa cushions, Meghan's thigh high brushing my thigh, Jennifer's leg tossed over the arm of the couch like we were halfway through a sleepover. My skin still tingled from the makeup, the blush on my cheeks, the gloss on my lips, the faint scent of something floral that now felt like it belonged to me. I didn't feel like Michael anymore. And apparently, neither did they.

"You know," Jennifer said, tilting her head, "you don't really look like a Michael right now."

Meghan turned to me with a slow smile. "No... you look like a Michelle."

My breath caught.

"Michelle," Jennifer echoed, testing the sound. "It's kinda perfect."

"Michelle," Meghan said again, softer this time. "That okay with you?"

I nodded before I could even think. "Yeah."

It felt right. It felt like someone saying yes to a part of me I hadn't dared name.

Meghan reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Okay then. Michelle."

Jennifer grinned and passed me her glass. "To Michelle."

I took a sip. The wine was sweet and sharp, and I felt it pool warm in my chest.

"Alright," Jennifer said "So now that we have finally got this party started, should we play some classic sleepover games? How about naked pillow fight? Or spin the dildo? Or hide the dildo? I'm sure her holes are tight enough-" Jennifer began in her usual tone before, thankfully being interrupted by Meghan.

"Truth or dare?" she said. That was a game that I could get behind.

" Sure, let's play a game that sixth graders play I guess." Jennifer said mockingly.

"Just play" Meghan said, rolling her eyes.

" Fine. Dare." Jennifer said.

" Okay I dare you to kiss me." Meghan said.

"Psh. Please, at least ask me to eat your ass or something, god you're pathetic" she said before smiling and leaning in to kiss her. The kiss lasted a while, while I sat there entranced, watching the two of them kiss, wondering how this mix of luck and fortune was working for me, it felt like I was so close to what I always wanted yet so far away. Their kiss was long and sensual and had quite an effect on me and my panties, that unfortunately did not go unnoticed.

" Aw Michelle, are you getting your panties wet?" Jennifer said in a mocking tone pointing to my boner in my panties which was leaking pre cum. I covered up as best as I could and remained silent.

"Lay off her. Okay Michelle your turn!" Meghan said.

"Truth."

She leaned in. "What's the most turned-on you've been tonight?"

Jennifer laughed. "That's not fair!"

"It is," Meghan smirked. "He chose truth."

I swallowed. " It's..." I looked down at the garter straps on my thighs. "Now. Honestly."

They both looked at me: quietly, softly, just acknowledging what I said.

"Okay," Meghan said. " Jennifer--truth or dare?"

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "Dare."

" Fine. Uh. Let's see. Oh! Give Michelle a lap dance!"

" Alright, if she can handle it!" she said as she got up and started grinding slowly yet seductively on my lap. She was a consummate professional, and it gave off the impression that she was used to doing this in some form, her constant grinding and rubbing on my mesh panties had me so close, I could have sworn had she continued, I would have made a mess in my panties. Thankfully she stopped, and the only thing that happened was that the little wet spot formed due to my precum just got a little bigger.

"Oh my god," she said lightly, nudging my knee with hers. "You're so hard." I flinched.

The lace didn't hide it, the grinding did not help. The fabric stretched tight over my cock, which pressed visibly against the front, curved slightly down, outlined through the sheer panel. The garter straps on my thighs made it worse. More obvious. Like a frame for my failure to hide anything at all.

"I-sorry." I said as I tried to hide my penis.

"Don't be," Meghan said quickly. Her voice was soft, but her eyes lingered on my groin.

Jennifer grinned. "Honestly, if you weren't hard, I'd be offended."

Meghan reached over and tugged gently at the waistband of my panties--just enough to adjust the tension across my lap. Her knuckles brushed the underside of my cock as she did. I gasped.

She pulled back slowly and looked up. "Better?"

I couldn't speak. She just smiled. "Good."

Jennifer leaned back on her elbows. "You know, I've seen guys with way more ego and way less to show for it."

"Hey," I mumbled, cheeks on fire.

"That was a compliment, Michelle." she said with a smile that seemed genuine, at least for her.

Meghan giggled and touched my thigh again, tracing the garter strap. "You're... really cute like this."

I didn't know what to do with that. The lace felt tighter by the second, clinging to my hard-on like a secret too big to hide. I wanted to tuck, to escape, to stay forever. My skin buzzed with attention. My body felt like a gift they hadn't asked for, but weren't returning either.

But then the evening reached its turning point. There was a knock on the door, followed by three sharp knocks.

Jennifer's smile dropped. Meghan tensed up while her hand stilled mid action. And I sat there, cock hard in lace, lips glossy, pulse stuttering in my ears: half boy, half girl, wholly exposed.

Jennifer's head whipped toward the door."That better not be-" she started, already pulling on her robe.

"Is it Matt?" Meghan whispered.

Jennifer frowned. "He wasn't supposed to come over."

She moved quickly, wrapping the satin belt around her waist and whispering something sharp under her breath. Her tits were still mostly visible beneath the robe, and her thigh peeked out with every step as she went toward the door.

Meghan grabbed my wrist.

"Come on."

She pulled me down the hallway, our thighs brushing, the garter straps snapping softly with every rushed step. We ducked into the second bedroom, Kaylee's room, the roommate who was out for the weekend. It smelled faintly of lavender and hairspray. The bed was made with a purple comforter and a stuffed bear on the pillow.

Meghan shut the door gently behind us. The light from the hallway glowed underneath, thin and golden. We stood there for a moment, just breathing. My heart was hammering in my chest. I was still fully dressed in plum lace, my cock hard and throbbing against the mesh, clearly outlined and aching.

Meghan turned toward me. She looked unreal. Like a goddess.

The pink satin bra framed her chest like it was sculpted for her. The lace-trimmed panties sat high on her hips, and the garter straps pulled gently against her thighs. Her hair had come undone slightly, and one tendril curled at her collarbone.

I couldn't help it. I don't know whether it was the wine or the years of tension or just something in Kaylee's room, but I leaned in. Our lips met, soft at first. Just a press. Just a peck. At first.

But then she sighed, and her lips parted more, and my hand cupped the side of her face, and her fingers curled in the strap of my bra, and we were kissing for real.

My hand slid down her back. And went lower, my fingertips grazing the curve of her ass, the lace of her panties. I pressed forward, my hard cock grinding gently against her soft smooth belly through the lace.

She broke the kiss gently, breath warm against my cheek.

"Michelle," she whispered. "Just kissing."

I froze. She kept her hands on my sides, but she didn't pull away.

"Okay," I whispered back. "Just kissing." As I felt my boner peek out of the panties yet again, despite just adjusting it.

She smiled as we kissed again. Slower this time. Mouths open, lips parted, tongues touching, no pressure. Just the closeness, the hunger, the sweetness of being allowed this one thing.

Outside, we heard Jennifer's voice.

"I didn't know you were coming over--yeah, no, they're in the other room."

I stiffened. Meghan leaned her forehead against mine.

"We're okay," she whispered.

And for the first time all night, I almost believed her. We stayed close, in each other's arms, quiet, still pulsing from that kiss.

Meghan didn't move far. Her thigh stayed pressed to mine, her pink bra strap slipping slightly off her shoulder. Her chest rose and fell a little faster than usual, and I watched her eyes in the dim light, wondering if she could hear my heartbeat.

"Meghan," I said, barely above a whisper.

She looked at me.

"I don't know what this is. Or what I am. Or if I'm... if I'm just doing all this because I want to be close to you." It was the truth, and I still didn't know if it was the wine talking or if wearing panties gave me a pair of balls.

Her eyes softened.

"But when you kissed me," I said, "it felt like something finally made sense. Even if it's stupid. Even if I don't."

She exhaled. "It's not stupid."

"I want you," I admitted. "Even like this. Especially like this."

Her fingers found mine. She laced them together.

"I don't know what I want," she said. "I didn't think tonight would feel like this. I didn't expect to see you and feel..."

"Feel what?"

She looked away. "Turned on. But also, safe."

I squeezed her hand.

She continued, quieter. "And I haven't had that in a long time."

We sat there, staring at each other like maybe--just maybe--we'd found something rare.

Then the door creaked open. Jennifer stepped in, barefoot, robe loose and untied, her hips swaying. She was grinning, her cheeks flushed.

"Well," she said. "Good news and bad news."

We both blinked at her.

"Good news: Matt's drunk. Bad news: Matt's drunk. But he's also horny, and honestly, the man can still perform when he's halfway to blackout, so it's kind of a win."

Meghan's face went red. "Jennifer-". Perform? Oh god, was she saying what I think she was saying?

"He said he's always wanted a foursome. And you"-she pointed at Meghan-"have definitely been complaining about needing a real dicking."

"I didn't think you'd invite him!" Meghan whispered.

"He invited himself, babe. I just opened the door."

She turned to me.

"And you. Michelle. You've got that 'eager to please' look down perfectly. I told him you're our trans classmate Michelle, and he says he's always wanted to, and forgive me for this, "fuck a tranny"."

My voice came out small. "I- i'm a virgin." I said as if that was the biggest concern, and not that I was a straight man in lingerie, feminized and about to be fucked by my crushes best friends boyfriend.

Jennifer blinked. " Of course we know that you dumb bitch, you told us this earlier. Don't fret. You'll have us to help you."

Meghan buried her face in her hands.

Jennifer stepped closer. "Look, we don't have to do anything. But if we do... it's just us. Lights low. Hands everywhere. No pressure. No expectations. Just us girls. Just... letting go."

I looked at Meghan. Her eyes met mine.

There was hesitation there. But also, heat. Need. A longing she hadn't let herself feel in a long time.

And maybe, for once, permission. I can't believe this is the closest I have ever gotten to getting with Meghan and I was basically interrupted by Jennifer yet again.

"I- I don't know." Meghan said. She was still holding my hand from earlier.

"Okay, let me put it this way. I will be having sex with him, in my bedroom, with the door open. Both of you or either of you, or for that matter neither of you are welcome to join. I'll leave it up to you. Just don't mess up Kaylee's sheets here is all I'll ask." She said as she opened the door and exited leaving me and Meghan alone again, holding hands.

That night there was a lot that was said, and a lot more that was said without actually saying anything. This was one of those moments. Meghan looked at me, our eyes locked and she opened the door, my hand still in hers, leading me to Jen's bedroom.

A part of me didn't know what was happening, a part of me just wanted to go wherever Meghan went, a part of me wanted to run out of there, a part of me just wanted to go back to me kissing Meghan or even when we were just kissing, but I felt all of those parts shut up, and let Meghan lead me.

Matt was sitting on the corner of the bed when Jennifer led us out of the hallway. He wasn't what I expected. Not a jock. Not a frat guy. He looked rougher - tall, all shoulders and thighs, with a jawline that looked like it could take a punch. Stubble thick around his mouth, hair buzzed on the sides, and tattoos coiling up one forearm in black ink.

Compared to me in my current state, he was a man. He didn't have lingerie or make up on, and he sat there in the corner of the bed, yet commanding all eyes and other body parts on him. I don't know if it was the lingerie, or the evening, but looking at him looking at us, turned me on in a way I did not expect.

He didn't smile when he saw us. He just looked. Right at Meghan. Then at me. He raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

Jennifer tossed her robe off completely and climbed into his lap like she'd been waiting for this all night. She didn't even look at us when she started unbuckling his jeans.

Meghan and I stood off to the side, frozen in lingerie, our fingers barely linked. I felt her tremble beside me.

Matt leaned back on the bed as Jennifer pulled his cock free. And there it was. Thick. Heavy. Half-hard but already wide. The head a deep flushed pink, the shaft veined and long, resting across his thigh like it belonged there. Compared to my own, this was a monster. This was a real cock.

I felt my legs go weak for his cock. I was not expecting my body to react like this.

Jennifer curled one hand around the base and slapped it lightly against her cheek. Then she opened her mouth. She took the head in slowly--exhaling through her nose, lips glossy and stretched wide. Her eyes closed. She moaned softly, just enough to let us know she liked the taste.

Meghan squeezed my hand. I didn't realize I'd been holding my breath until I let it out in a slow, desperate gasp. This was clearly having a profound effect on both of us.

Jennifer bobbed lower, inch by inch, until her nose was nearly at his base. Then she pulled back, spit stringing from her lips to the head of his cock. She stroked him once, twice, kissed the tip, then did it again - languid, practiced, obscene in how easily she handled him.

Matt groaned but didn't say a word. Either he was too far drunk or too far in ecstacy to say anything just yet, but he didn't need to. He just looked at us--watching the way Meghan's knees pressed together, the way my cock twitched helplessly against the lace of my panties, outlined for both of them to see.

"He tastes so good when he's been drinking," she said, licking the corner of her mouth. "A little dirtier." she said as she caught her breath before saying "Oh where are my manners, Matt, this is is Meghan as you know, and that's Michelle, and they're happy to join if they like, but you know, no pressure. I wouldn't want to share this delicious cock anyway" she said with a wink before going back to stroking his thick member.

Meghan was flushed red from neck to chest. Her lips parted. Her chest rising and falling faster now. She was clearly turned on. Jennifer turned her head slightly and locked eyes with me, still stroking Matt lazily.

"You want to try?" she said as she took this pause to stand up to take off the rest of her clothes. Jennifer had been naked earlier tonight but this was different. She walked around the apartment in nothing but a towel, casual, unbothered, nipples soft, curves on full display. But this wasn't just nudity. This was intention. Her body felt different.

She undressed like she knew exactly what her body could do. The robe slipped down her shoulders and off her back, catching for a second at the dip of her waist before pooling at her ankles. Her skin gleamed under the soft living room light--freckled at the collarbones, pink along her thighs. Her breasts hung naturally, full and high, tipped with nipples that drew the eye like magnets. When she knelt between Matt's legs, completely naked, it wasn't just to please him. It was a performance. For all of us. And it seemed to be working.

She took him deeper this time--her lips parting, cheeks hollowing as her head bobbed slowly. The muscles in her back flexed gently with each motion, her breasts swaying subtly, her breath audible through her nose. She wasn't in a rush. She savored him.

Meghan was now trembling beside me. Still in her soft pink lingerie, her fingers had curled tightly into mine, and her knees had pressed together so tightly I could feel the tension in her thigh against my leg, as if she opened her legs even a bit her pussy would leak all of her feminine desires out. Her eyes however stayed on Jennifer. Her breath was shallow.

I looked at her, and in the flickering lamplight, she didn't look just aroused. She looked torn apart.

"I hate how much I want this," she whispered.

I almost didn't hear her.

"What?" I asked softly.

Her eyes flicked to mine: wide, glassy, lips parted.

"I feel like I'm watching something I'm not supposed to see," she said. "And all I want is to... give in."

Her voice broke slightly on those last words.

Matt shifted slightly, groaning low as Jennifer slid her lips all the way to the base and held herself there, throat relaxing. Her back arched slightly, arms flexing.

I felt my cock throb against the tight lace of the panties--utterly hard, outlined for anyone to see. I hadn't touched myself once tonight, and I didn't have to. I was soaked. Leaking. Needy.

But it wasn't just the visual. It was the way Jennifer controlled the room. The way Meghan's breath hitched when Jennifer moaned around Matt's cock.

The way I wanted to be between someone's legs too: maybe not to please, but to be seen as something more than soft and curious.

I turned to Meghan again. "Then give in," I said quietly, as if I wasn't just talking to her but myself.

She looked at me like she might cry, before nodding and moving towards Jennifer, her hand still holding mine, pulling me with her.

She positioned herself next to Jennifer, and me next to her. Jennifer was completely nude now, except for the stockings.

"Glad you girls could join!" She said as she passed Meghan the cock, who without hesitation, parted her painted lips to feel his manhood orally. Her eyes, glazed over in lust gently closed as she took all of it in one go, almost like she was used to this, almost like she missed this. Her hands, one hand at least, drifted to her panties and started rubbing. The room was filled with the smells of arousal, a smell I hadn't recognized until just now.

There I was, on my knees, holding my crushes hand, while she sucked the dick of her best friends boyfriend. That is truly a sentence I never thought I would say.

Meghan continued sucking on it for what felt like ages until she finally let go, her own spot coating his cock with a thick layer of saliva, before handing it to me. I hesitated, but I tried my best to emulate those two and started sucking his cock, from the tip. It tasted salty, it smelt musty, and it felt warm, but it turned me on so much. I also felt my own hands move to my crotch, my fingertips playing with the tip of my peeking penis.

While my mouth was on his shaft, Jen and Meghan started licking his balls, I could feel their skin on mine as we continued to suck on his shaft. I continued to go deeper, my nose touching the base of his groin.

I don't know how long I was there, but the next thing I knew I was pulling out, gasping for air, my drool leaving my mouth, my eyes full of tears. I felt Meghan's hands on mine as she wrestled the cock from me and started going down on me. It felt like she was on autopilot, letting all of her repressed desires drive her.

Jennifer meanwhile looked at me with a similar look on her eyes and kissed me. The room seemed to be spinning, the desire only building up, the only sounds coming from kissing, sucking and Matt's occasional grunting.

I found myself drawn to Jennifer, not unlike how I felt drawn to Meghan, however while that had some elements of love this seems to be completely driven by desire. I started kissing Jennifer, and she kissed back, me tasting other parts of Matt's cock in her mouth, my hands wandered to her tits and nipples and found no objections, no mentions of "just kissing" or "Tits are for real men", just letting our desires speak for themselves. Jennifer moaned slightly while her hands moved to my crotch and I felt her fingers over the lace of my panties.

It was Meghan's time to come up for air. I was about to go back on the cock, until Matt spoke up.

" Babe. I cant- I think-" was all he said before Jennifer got up, once again with power, and eroticism in her body.

" You ladies can undress each other while I show you how it's done. Don't worry he can handle all of us." She said as she positioned him on the bed, and positioned herself in between him.

She spread her legs around him and faced him, so her ass was pointing towards us. She looked back as her hands gripped his shaft, and slowly impaled herself on it, moaning slightly as it disappeared inside her. His hands moved to her ample ass, his large hands easily taking each butt cheek of hers in his palms, as she slowly moved up and down, rhythmically, punctuated by her moans.

It was quite a sight and honestly way more intimate than I would have expected Jennifer to be. This was someone who prided herself on being a whore, yet when it came down to it, her sex with her boyfriend seemed more intimate and more romantic than I would have thought.

I looked at Meghan and she was biting her lip, her pupils wide, almost like she was high on lust. She took my hand as we got up, and pressed our bodies against each other, and kissed. This time I found my hands moving to her ass, squeezing it, and received no objections from her.

Her own hands were at my ass squeezing it as I moaned slightly, only to be interrupted by the sound of Matt's cock ramming into the soft flesh of Jennifer's pussy.

My hands moved to Meghan's bra, my fingers intertwined with her straps before she moved her own hands to the back, unclasping it, her boobs touching my chest. I broke the kiss to look at her, her eyes begged me to continue to strip her. My hands trembled once again, as my fingers dug into the waistband of her panties, just how they trembled when I helped her put them on. She reached down with shaking fingers, helping me, hooked the lace sides of her pink panties, and eased them down her hips. Slowly. Quietly. She stepped out of them one leg at a time, then straightened, arms crossed lightly over her chest, her body quivering just enough to be seen.

I yanked the panties from the floor gently and moved them to the side with the other discarded pile of clothes, where she slowly moved, now naked other than the garter and thigh highs.

Meghan was bare now. Her breasts small and perfect, her nipples flushed, her stomach flexing with each shallow breath. Her pussy glistened between her thighs, lips parted slightly, a trail of slick already shining in the low light.

I stood there - frozen, wrapped in lace, throbbing - watching the girl I'd fantasized for years tremble in anticipation of another man.

She motioned me to turn around, and I did, obediently as she attempted to unclasp my bra while I watched Jennifer and Matt intently. Jennifer's speed was picking up, but Matt was doing the heavy lifting, quite literally as he used his hands to move her up and down on his hard cock, effortlessly as she moaned and whimpered, giving in to the pleasure, ignorant of the other eyes on her.

Then she unclasped my bra, sliding it off my arms, she kissed down my spine, fingers trailing over my ribs, my hips, the soft edge of my lace waistband. Her hands gripped my thighs and peeled the panties down, letting them fall slowly to the floor. I stepped out of them, gasping. I was exposed now, hard, vulnerable, yet full of desires I didn't understand.

I stood there watching while Jennifer reached the crescendo of her sex.

"Fuck Matt. I'm coming I'm coming I'm coming" she yelled as Matt repeatedly pounded her, using all the brute force he had, showing us and me that he really was the real man here.

I looked at Meghan, her hands had moved to her crotch, and her long fingers were playing with her swollen vulva.

Jennifer meanwhile sat there on Matt's cock as she caught her breath, her arms around his neck, his arms still on her ass. She then kissed him deeply before using the bed to remove him from herself, moaning slightly as her pussy lamented the absence of his thick member, she then crashed on the side of the bed, giving us a look at her exposed pussy, dripping with a combination of slick juices.

"Who's next?" She said as I looked at Meghan walk forward, silently and with intention.

Jennifer got up and embraced her, their naked bodies touching, while Jennifer's hand moved to her pussy.

"God, you're so wet," she murmured, standing slowly and running one hand up the inside of Meghan's thigh. "You were ready before we even walked in."

Meghan flinched at the touch. Not because she didn't want it. But because she wanted it too much.

Jennifer leaned in and kissed her--slow and full and deep. Meghan melted into it, her arms dropping, her fingers curling into Jennifer's back as she opened her mouth and kissed her back like she was afraid it might disappear.

I couldn't breathe.

Jennifer kissed down Meghan's neck, down her chest, her hands sliding over her hips. She guided Meghan back down onto the bed, spreading her gently, positioning her legs. Matt stood up, his cock still erect. Jennifer moved to her rear, kissing every inch of her ass and pussy, making her moan slightly when everyone knew what she really wanted.

"She's ready." Jennifer said to Matt as he stroked his cock in anticipation. I stood there, naked, witnessing all of this as my own cock, very much a pale imitation of Matt's, trembled and quivered.

Meghan laid there, giving all of us a good look at her pussy. If she was shy about it before, earlier in the night, when I removed her panties, that shyness was all but gone.

Her raw sexuality was on display for everyone to see, her pussy gaping in desire, her butthole exposed and puckered, her body vulnerable. She lay there, blushing, exposed, lips parted, hips shaking, already whimpering.

And then Matt moved forward. He didn't speak. Didn't ask. He just stepped between Meghan's spread thighs, one hand stroking himself, the other brushing her leg. Meghan looked up at him from the front, eyes glassy, lips parted. And then she nodded. That was all.

He knelt, guiding himself forward, and Meghan gasped--head falling back, one hand clutching Jennifer's hand who was sitting there silently watching her boyfriend take her best friend.

"Oh my god," she breathed. Then again. Louder. "Fuck-"

She was gone. Every ounce of hesitation (which honestly was probably gone the minute she saw him naked) evaporated.

She spread her legs wider and pushed back against his thrusts with a cry, her back arching, his fingers digging into her hips. The sound she made was animal: raw and unfiltered. She moaned again, louder this time, head thrown back as he began to move.

Matt grunted low, deep inside her, hands firm on her waist. And then Meghan lost it. She bucked, bit her lip, moaned into her arm. "Don't stop- don't stop- fuck me!"

She wasn't just enjoying it. She was consumed. I couldn't move.

I stood there- barely clothed, every nerve on fire- watching the girl I'd loved come completely undone under someone else. And all I could feel was awe. And envy. And the desperate, shaking need to be seen like that. Touched like that. Desired line that.

Jennifer turned to me. Her mouth glistened. She wiped her chin and stood, eyes locked on mine.

"You ready?" she asked.

I nodded. I wasn't.

She stepped up to me--slow, steady, her fingers moving to my hips.

"You looked so sweet watching her fall apart," she whispered. "You want that, don't you?"

My voice cracked. "Yes."

She kissed me, open-mouthed, confident, tasting like wine and heat and something Meghan had left behind. She took my hands and moved it to her soft folds, which felt wet, warm and slightly ravaged by Matt's weapon of choice.

"You want him to destroy your pussy too don't you?" She said as she guided my fingers inside her, not to satisfy her but to tease me.

Jennifer kissed my lower back, then my cheek.

"Get on all fours" she said. "Let me get you ready." as she directed me to the floor, making me get on all fours, as I watched Meghan in a similar position, getting more frantic, as Matt's balls slapped against her pussy.

" Fuck yes. Fuck me please. I missed this so much. Fuck me raw like the whore I am" she shouted as I felt Jennifer grab something from her bedside drawer. I then felt Jennifer's hands on my ass, giving me a light spanking before her lips touched my cheeks, kissing lightly, affectionately.

I lay there slowly, my skin buzzing, my thighs trembling under the garter straps. Jennifer stood above me, one hand on her hip, the other opening a bottle of lube with a soft click.

"Deep breath," she said gently. I obeyed. She poured the lube into her palm- cool, glistening and knelt beside me. The first touch was light. Just her fingers, tracing between my thighs. Not quite touching where I needed, but close enough to make my hips twitch. My cock lay curved against my stomach, sticky and softening under the weight of everything I was feeling.

"I've got you," she murmured as her hand moved lower, near my taint slick fingers pressing gently against me- circling, coaxing. I gasped when she found the right place, gasped when her fingers entered me. My legs opened without me meaning to, just as Meghan legs had with Matt.

"Good girl," she whispered.

The words shot through me like lightning. Her fingers worked slowly, two now, easing the lube in, spreading me open, helping me breathe through the tightness and the want. I moaned softly, head tilted back, hair sticking to my temple.

Jennifer kissed my inner thigh."You're doing so well."I whimpered. Not from pain. From want. I wanted to be taken. I needed it. I wasn't just hard--I was melting.

"Almost there," she said. I was trembling now. Everywhere. My hands were gripping the carpet, my hips lifting into her palm, every breath catching in my throat.

Meghan meanwhile was completely disheveled, and unraveled. Matt was spanking her as she begged for it. It was a complete contrast to how Jennifer had taken him. Whereas she was slow, intimate and romantic, completely contrasting her regular personality, Meghan was doing the same. This version of Meghan was almost unhinged, loose and focused on one thing. Getting fucked.

"Oh god. Yes. Yes. Yes. Fuck. Please. I need it. I need ittt.." was all she managed to say while Jennifer's fingers moved inside me, making me whimper with desires.

It was then I realized I was jealous. Not of Matt who was fucking the woman I loved, but of Meghan. I craved to be her. I carved her femininity all night, it was even debatable if I even loved her for her, or just wanted to be her.

" Fuck Matt. I'm coming I'm coming I'm coming " she said as her voice broke, screaming. Matt stopped while she convulsed, almost like a seizure before he pulled out, his cock shining with her juices while she lay back exhausted, just like Jennifer had done a while ago.

Matt then looked at me. It was time. I will never understand how a man like that had the strength to fuck two girls and then me, but I guess that's why he was doing the fucking and we were being fucked.

" You're up babe.'" Jennifer said to me as she took my hand and led me to the bed. " He'll take you whichever way you want," she said as I had already made up my mind. I wanted to be fucked on all fours.

The bed had been warm where Meghan had laid, I got on all fours, jutting my butt out seductively, or as seductively as I could, my balls clinging to my body, my dick or clit erect and leaking, my asshole lubed and ready for him to make a woman out of me.

Matt moved toward the bed, his body broad and slow like gravity itself had shifted. Meghan sat at my side now, her hand in mine, her thighs still trembling from what she'd just been through. Her mouth was still parted. Her lips swollen from kisses, from moaning.

Jennifer moved to the other side of Matt and whispered, "She's ready," before moving to my side.

And then he was above me. Naked. Heavy. Powerful. His cock was already hard again--long and glistening with Meghan still on him, the scent of her clinging to his skin. My heart pounded in my chest. My whole body pulsed with nerves and heat.

I didn't look back at her. I dared not. Instead I looked at Meghan. She was disheveled, but content. She was looking back. "You're okay," she whispered. "You're with us."

I nodded. Swallowed. Matt's wide hands gripped my thighs, spread me wider. The garter straps stretched taut, lace digging into soft skin. I felt the head of his cock brush between my cheeks--slick and thick and inevitable.

He pressed forward. I gasped. It wasn't pain. Not yet. Just pressure.

A fullness I'd never imagined. A burning stretch that made me want to pull away and push back at the same time.

"Fuck baby. She's so fuckin' tight," Matt said as he used my hips to position my self better. That was probably the most I had heard him speak all night.

Meghan leaned close, pressed her forehead to mine. "Breathe babe, you can do this."I did. And Matt kept going. Slow. Deep. Claiming. Matt pushed deeper. The stretch burned. Not sharp, not unbearable, just real. My body had never felt so open, so taken. I let out a trembling breath, and Meghan kissed me, her fingers laced in mine, grounding me.

"You're doing so well," she whispered. "You're perfect."

I wanted to cry. I wanted to moan. But most of all, I wanted him to keep going.

Matt rocked his hips again, pushing in farther. I could feel every inch: thick, hot, unrelenting. My breath hitched. My thighs trembled. My cock, still trapped against my stomach, throbbed with every slow movement inside me.

He found a rhythm--slow and deliberate, each stroke pushing me deeper into something I couldn't name. And I didn't want it to stop.

"Michelle," Meghan whispered again. "You're so beautiful like this."I turned my head and kissed her.

Her lips were soft. Familiar. She kissed me like I was fragile and precious and hers. Matt groaned above me, picking up pace. I moaned into Meghan's mouth. It wasn't just penetration anymore.

It was surrender.

My body gave way, opened, welcomed. My hips started to move with him, matching his rhythm. I could feel everything, every single sensation, and I never wanted it to end.

He was so big. So strong. I was nothing but lace and gasps and slick skin, compared to him. And for the first time in my life, I didn't want to be anything else.

Matt grunted above me, his hands gripping my thighs tighter now, his strokes deeper: claiming, owning. My legs trembled with every push. My mouth hung open, breath catching on each thrust, and somewhere between the pain and pleasure I stopped trying to separate them.

I wasn't just being fucked. I was being remade.

Every inch of me was slick: my skin damp, my lips wet, the inside of me stretched full, sensitive, raw.

I was leaking onto my stomach now--my cock helpless, untouched, drooling against my own skin. It didn't matter. I didn't need it. All I needed was this: the rhythm, the fullness, Meghan's fingers gripping mine like she'd never let go.

Jennifer moved her hands to my balls, playing with them, using her fingers to play with the tip of my dick, my clit.

"Fuck- yes. Please. Sir- please fuck me." I said, my brain turning to mush. Where the fuck did sir come from?

Jennifer giggled. Meghan smiled as she then moved her hands to my clit. Two hot naked girls touching my dick was everything I dreamed of, but definitely not like this, not in this context.

I moaned--high, broken.

"Michelle," Meghan whispered, kissing my temple, my cheek, my mouth. "You're so close." as her thumbs wrapped around the top, making me feel a heat in my groin. And I was. I could feel it building, starting tight in my core, electric and low and rising. My legs tensed. My hips bucked. My body reached without permission. Matt slammed in one last time- and held.

"Fuck- I can't- I'm cummingggg" was all he managed to grunt. At the same time I couldn't help it and my clit started squirting, all over Meghan's hands, and the bed and myself. I came. Hard.

I cried out: Meghan's name on my lips, instead of the name of my penetrator, as I pulsed, again and again, against the lace. It soaked through. It stained the sheets. My whole body shuddered.

Tears slipped from my eyes. I wasn't embarrassed. These were tears of joy. Tears of ecstacy. I was whole, in some weird way, without even realizing I was incomplete all these years.

Meghan kissed me as Matt dislodged from me, my hole quivering, missing the mass that had filled me.

"You did it," she whispered. "You're ours now. Our girlfriend, just one of the girls."

This words would haunt me forever. Not in the traditional sense. I had absolutely no regrets, but I will always find it bizarre how that day that phrase started off as an insult, an emasculation, and through the day and night, I embraced it, until I wore it as a badge of honor.

Matt collapsed next to us, completely exhausted. "That was fun ladies. May need a nap before round 2." He said as he closed his eyes.

I was still laying on my fours, my legs still trembling, slowly coming to the realization of what happened, my body sticky with a mix of my own cum and his.

"You girls should go clean up. Feel free to use Kaylee's bed if you need a nap." Jennifer said as she helped me and Meghan up, and ushered us to the bathroom. I looked at Meghan, her body slick with sweat and other juices, looked content. It felt like she had finally shown me a side of her she was hiding, and I'm sure she felt the same about me.

"We should clean up. Can I hop in the shower with you?"

I nodded as she turned the water on, filling the bathroom with steam. It was hard to believe that this was the same bathroom, that merely hours ago, I was in, debating whether to leave with my dignity. Now? Fuck dignity, I needed all of this.

"I like Michelle" Meghan said as she clung to me, and in the soft, gasping stillness that followed, I believed her. The water was hot, steam curling around our bodies as if the night refused to let us go just yet. Meghan and I stood under the spray, naked, glistening, our skin still flushed and tingling. Her back pressed to my front as I ran my hands gently over her stomach, her ribs, the undersides of her breasts. She let me.

"I still can't believe you came from being fucked," she said softly, a teasing smile in her voice.

I pressed my cheek to her shoulder. "Neither can I."

She reached back and ran her fingers along my hip, then down between my thighs. "You were so full. I could hear it."

I shivered.

"You liked it?" she asked.

"I didn't think I would. I didn't think I could. But... yeah."

She turned to face me. Her hair had unraveled completely, strands plastered to her cheeks and collarbones. Her eyes were soft. A little tired. A little wild.

"I never thought I'd want to share something like that with someone," she said.

I looked down at her breasts, pink from friction, her nipples still taut from the cold.

"You mean me?" I asked.

She smiled. "I mean Michelle."

We washed each other slowly--hands gliding across each other's skin like we were memorizing something sacred. She cupped my small, hairless cock in her palm for a moment, just looking.

"You're so soft now," she said. "It suits you."

I swallowed. "I still don't know what I am. Man? Woman?"

She leaned forward, kissed the corner of my mouth. "You're mine."

I kissed back.

" Meghan- what I was saying earlier. I meant it. I've been in love with you for ages. I still am." I said as I felt myself crying, hoping that the shower would conceal my tears.

" I know. I mean I deluded myself into thinking we were just really good friends. But obviously we are not. You don't share a cock and rub clits with really good friends. I know you're confused but so am I. I don't think I could date Michael, but. Michelle.." She said with a lingering pause as she held me closer, her hands resting on the small of my ass.

" I'll tell you what Michelle, you and me, we have a lot to figure out. But we don't have to do it just yet. We don't have to do it tonight. We can just live in the moment. And let tomorrow or maybe even day after bring the answers. I love you, I truly do. And I know you love me. And we can just.. be" she said as she kissed me, her body pressed into mine so hard my dick woke up, standing semi flaccid, pressed against her warm belly.

I didn't need any other answer. We stayed there, kissing, holding each other, water cascading over our bodies, until the bathroom door creaked open.

Jennifer peeked in--still naked, grinning like the devil. "Well well," she said. "A couple of soap-slippery sluts."

"Jennifer!" Meghan squealed as she let go of me, as if we were doing something wrong.

She just laughed. "Relax. Matt's asleep. Round two's waiting if you want it. But if you're gonna make out in the shower, at least let me watch." she said entering the cubicle as we devolved into a warm soapy mess of skin and hot water.

The rest of the night, honestly was a blur. After the shower, we moved back to the bedroom trying to wake up Matt, who was passed out cold. Seeing that he wouldn't, we moved the party back out to the living room where we finished our wine, before exploring our bodies. I came a couple more times, from various acts, I don't think I ever penetrated either of the girls, but there was a lot of action. Eating ass, eating pussy, stroking clits, sucking nipples, it was almost as if the orgy released all our inhibitions with each other, and we were devolving into primitive creatures driven by sex.

The other thing I remember is waking up in Kaylee's bed, with Meghan next to me, still naked. Our garters and stockings had come off right before the shower, not like they covered any parts of our bodies anyway. I stirred as I felt the sunlight kiss our warm skin. Meghan rolled her eyes and reached for me again. The morning light was soft, spilling in through the window. It felt like it had been days since everything had happened--but it had only been a few short hours, just long enough for the night's heat to simmer into something quieter, something more reflective.

I remember getting up, a mild headache on my temple searching for clothes and only finding a bra and panty from last night. Deciding that I didn't want to be naked, I wore it. I went to the bathroom and examined my face, most of my makeup had vanished but a faint feminine glow remained. I walked over to the kitchen.

The air smelled like coffee and fresh toast, the kitchen warm and inviting. Meghan and I sat at the table in various stages of undress: Meghan still in her satin pink bra and matching panties the lace trimmed neatly, her long legs crossed beneath the table. She hadn't bothered with pants. I was still in my plum lace bra and panties, barely covering me but feeling comfortable enough.

Jennifer was in a towel, her wet hair falling loosely around her shoulders as she moved around the kitchen, humming. Her body, still soft from the night before, glowed in the morning light. She was the picture of calm confidence, as if the events of the last twelve hours were just another part of the morning routine.

"You girls okay?" she asked, her voice casual but with a note of warmth that still made my heart flutter.

Meghan nodded, still sipping her coffee. "Yeah, I think so."

I glanced at her, a little unsure. "I... I don't even know what to think about last night."

Meghan's lips quirked into a smile. "I do." She looked at me, her eyes glinting with something playful--and maybe a little teasing. "I think I loved seeing you so... vulnerable."

I swallowed, heat flooding my chest. "I felt so--open. Like I was exposed in a way I never thought I'd be."

"Well you were. I bet you, you never spread your cute little butthole like that ever did ya? Please sir please fuck me" she said in a mocking tone, reminiscent of how I acted last night.

"Hey- I was- I mean- I don't-" I said.

"Relax babe, you just got a little cock drunk. Speaking of cock drunk " Jennifer said turning to Meghan.

"Okay okay. It had been a while. You girls know this. I just- needed to feel like a woman again"

"Or a whore" Jennifer said as Meghan snorted into her coffee.

"I just- didn't think I'd like this. Or like to be seen like this, doing that. I don't know what you girls think of me" I said, being open.

Meghan set her mug down, then leaned forward, lowering her voice just slightly, the intimacy of it making my breath catch. "That's the point, though, Michelle. You wanted to be seen."

Her words stung with truth.

"I've never felt that way before," I said quietly. "Not like that. With anyone." I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, suddenly aware of how little I was wearing. "You know, before I came here last night, I thought I knew what I wanted. But after..." I trailed off, unsure of how to say it.

" Its okay. You'll figure it out. You have us to help you. Your secret is safe with us Michelle. Speaking of which, did you two figure anything out, while in the shower last night?"

" We're working on it. No rush." Meghan said as she grabbed my hand and I finished my coffee.

Two weeks later

Tuesday's at the bookstore was always a drag. Well, mostly.

" Okay, be subtle about this but I think he's looking at you." Jennifer said to me as she leaned over the counter, wearing her signature black tank top, her cleavage threatening to spill over the counter top.

"As if. I'm dressed as Michael. There's no way he's looking at me. He's looking at Meghan!" I said as I looked at her, not far from me, dressed in jeans that made her ass pop.

"Well, that may be true, but there would only be one way to find out won't there? I'll invite him over to your place, and he can choose between you- and Michelle" Jennifer said with a wink.

In the two weeks that passed me and Meghan had many a talks. We decided we didn't need a label on this, and that I wanted to continue to explore my new side as Michelle but only with her and maybe Jennifer. So far, this was agreeing with me.

"Or maybe, he wants all of us. Bent over. Just us girls." Jennifer added with another wink.

Just us girls. And I was one of them.