Wild Kat Ch. 05: Date Night

"By the Goddess, you're a natural-born whore, aren't you?"

I shifted in my bed, the open laptop propped against my legs, and got a better grip on my half-hard cock as I watched the porno playing in front of me. My classwork was gathered around me, textbooks and loose sheets of notes forgotten almost as soon as I'd finished with them. I chuckled inwardly as my movement made some of the papers slide from their neat pile; I might have turned into a half-nymphomaniacal bombshell with an over-nine-inch dick and a near-hourglass figure, but I still had that old high school discipline, enough to make sure I tended to my studies before I sated my new appetites.

Today, the remedy to those appetites was a CGI fantasy world, the kind filled with dangerous dungeons and ruins, lush ancient forests and endless deserts, and of course dim, crowded taverns staffed by buxom maidens, where a pouch of gold could get you enough hearty ale, succulent roast meats, or pleasurable company to make the night as comfortable as you could wish for. The main characters were straightforward enough: the shy, vulnerable, innocent barmaid-turned-courtesan, a human with pale skin, perky breasts, and braided auburn hair, and her client, an exotic, towering, eight-foot-tall warrior-woman chieftain, all golden-tanned, sweat-slicked skin over rippling muscles, with four chiseled arms, a mane of untameable black hair, elegantly-pointed ears, a pair of breasts the size of cantaloupes, and most importantly, a massive, majestic, twenty-inch cock, throbbing and twitching as it was shoved halfway down the smaller woman's throat.

"Ah, fuck... yes, my little cock-sleeve, just like that..." The mercenary groaned in appreciation as the barmaid bravely attempted to take another inch into her mouth, an unmistakable bulge already visible in the human's throat. She was lying down on her back on top of a table, with assorted plates, flagons, and cutlery scattered all around her, as if the dominant Amazon had simply picked her up off the ground and plopped her down in the midst of a five-course feast, just another delectable dish, prepared solely for her pleasure, meant for nothing more than to be savored and devoured, sating an animalistic hunger. The warrior stood at the head of the table, where the barmaid's head hung upside down over the edge, taking the fleshy spear as far as her petite, tight throat could handle. It was an interesting position, the smaller wench's face barely visible under the remaining ten inches of exposed she-cock and a pair of heavy, cum-filled balls that hung just above her forehead. I made a mental note to try out the position the next time I went over to Becky's place. The video played on as my mind began to wander...

It was late September now, just over a month since classes had started and almost exactly a month since that fateful Friday afternoon in the locker room, when our dynamic had shifted irreversibly from the clear-cut roles of bully and victim into a more nuanced, more balanced, almost symbiotic rapport: not quite equals, but relying on each other to fulfill those deep, primal needs.

She'd texted me that very same night, a short, simple demand that still carried her trademark, stubborn bossiness - "my place, Tuesday at 6" - and so I walked to her house in the richer part of town that night, ready for anything. Even though she was only twenty-one, just two years older than me, Becky could easily have bought her own place with the amount of money her parents had set aside for her, but she chose instead to stay at home in the six-bed, five-bath, million-dollar mansion she'd grown up in. Her folks were often out of town, at least twice a week, attending various social functions down in the city or spending time at their vacation home in the Catskills, and so we could expect a degree of privacy every now and then - after she'd dismissed the housekeeper, of course.

I'd never been anywhere near her house before, let alone inside, and had been a little nervous when I knocked on the door for the first time. She soon appeared, looking me over with those glacier-blue eyes, the silent struggle between her ice-queen facade and the attention-starved harlot playing out as she invited me in. She'd awkwardly given me a tour of the place, finally ending in her bedroom, and then, after what seemed like an eternity of silence, neither of us knowing exactly what to do next, we slowly undressed.

The uncertainty, the tension, the awkwardness - it all fell away after that, and within minutes I had found myself laying down on her bed, my head held firmly in place between her thighs, lapping up and down against her sweet wet slit, with the occasional growl of delight letting me know when I was doing a good job, and the sharp gasps or whimpered moans letting me known when I was doing a really good job. She gyrated and squirmed and bucked under me as I tried different approaches - spreading her legs further apart as I tried to push myself as deep as possible, propping her up slightly off the bed with a pillow to change the angle, even lifting her waist up into the air so that only her head and shoulders were on the bed, my tongue diving straight down into her as her tits jiggled above her head with the motion.

That first evening, I must have spent almost an hour eating her out from every angle and position possible. Every so often she would scream and writhe, her body tensing up, and more often than not I'd be rewarded with a small stream of fluid splashed across my tongue and lips for my efforts as she came. After a dozen orgasms, each one slowly breaking her down into a panting, whimpering puddle - when she finally lost enough strength to keep her knees locked behind my head or a firm grasp on my hair - we finally switched, and it was my turn to be satisfied.

In her condition, with her muscles and senses weakened and rattled by wave after wave of pleasure, I didn't ask for a blowjob to warm me up. I'd been hard for an hour, and with her now well-lubricated pussy more than ready, I was aching to slip inside her. I did easily, slowly, groaning with the sensation as she took my entire length on the first stroke with minimal resistance, feeling that glorious tightness, the all-encompassing moisture and warmth around me. Without any more preamble or prelude, I began to pump.

When I finally stopped, it was after three orgasms of my own, delivered over the course of another hour. The first came shortly after I'd started, my cock unable to hold back following the agony of neglect during my marathon pussy-eating. I'd grunted and grappled with Becky's legs, shoving them back against my hips as I hilted myself and unloaded inside her. The second came a half-hour later, after I'd hardened myself again by rubbing my sensitive member against her gorgeous, sun-kissed breasts, and I soon splashed a puddle across her stomach and strands of white arching over her nipples. After a few minutes, I regained my senses and enough strength for a final round, returning my aching cock to her already-creampied cunt for one last salvo. We grunted and groaned, the bed under us protesting as we rocked and rutted like beasts, both of us looking at each other, looking deep into eyes filled with equal parts lust and contempt, loving the feelings but still very nearly hating the person who was causing them.

I finally shoved one last time, driving further than before, and we both screamed in unison as our climaxes came simultaneously. I'd slumped forward then, into the sticky pool of my own seed that was glazing her chest, and we laid together like that for another half-hour, my softening cock finally slipping out of her, connected by a few thin strands of cum to the slow dribble of white that was leaking from her, gently squeezed out by the weight of my body on top of hers.

That had been just our first time together at her place, and it was soon followed by a half-dozen more. Any time that her parents were out of town and we were both available, there we were, fucking like animals for one, two, sometimes even three hours at a time. She was always served first, the last vestige of her domination over me: I would eat her out until she was finally, mercifully satisfied. Only then would we reverse the roles, and she became my personal fuck-toy, begging me to fill her up, to use and abuse her pussy, to shove my cock deep down her throat until she couldn't breathe. I always obliged, usually with at least two orgasms on my end. If I saved my loads and didn't masturbate for a day or two beforehand, I could come three times, maybe even four, if I focused. But no matter the number, neither of us left until we were both completely spent, a tangle of limp limbs and heaving, perfect breasts caught up in sweat- and cum-stained sheets.

And it wasn't just in her bed, either: we fucked wherever we could find the space. The eight-piece sectional in the living room, our grunts and screams echoing in the vaulted ceilings; poolside, where I ate her out as she sprawled across a deck chair, not giving a damn if any of the neighbors should happen to look across their lawns and over the hedgerows, before we slipped into the water and I pushed her up against the tiled walls as I slid in and out, the water enhancing the stimulation; on top of the state-of-the-art dryer, mid-cycle, its steady vibrations and hot metal adding to the tumult and chaos of our mating presses.

Once we even went into her parents' room, where she white-knuckled the stately, oak-paneled headboard as I took her from behind, her full, luscious cheeks rippling in time with each thrust before I emptied myself, grabbing her ass so hard that my nails left little rosy imprints, tiny claw marks against her bronzed skin. That time, I think she got off just as much from the stimulation I was giving her as she did from the taboo feeling of being dominated, turned into a groveling, begging slut - and fuck, I loved making her beg me for anything and everything, especially for a creampie - in the very same bed where her parents slept most nights, where they had sex.

Yes - it had been a very interesting month, to say the least.

Aside from my recent campaign of conquest over Becky's body, things had been going rather normally, all in all. I settled into my classes nicely, doing well in most of them. I also managed to keep up the good rapport with Jess, continuing our walks between classes and car rides afterwards, as well as reconnecting with a few other friends from high school that I'd lost touch with over the Gap Year. Even my relationship with Derek seemed on okay footing after our talk that day; he and I had texted a few times and seen each other in passing once or twice, sharing light conversation and making small talk every few days.

Mom's hours leveled out, allowing her to slip into a less demanding schedule, and we began spending a bit more time together around the house, making up for the lost time when I'd been a shut-in over the summer. As far as I could tell, she was still blissfully unaware of the most important aspect of my transformation, but all the same, she commented once or twice on my newfound curviness, swearing that she'd always known I'd get a full figure eventually, chalking it up to me being a very, very late bloomer.

My growing body had reached what seemed to be the apex of its transformation, with the measurements that Doctor Joyce took every four weeks finally showing signs of slowing down. Where before I'd gained an inch or more at time in my chest and ass, I was now registering fractions, much to my relief; since that shopping trip with Jess, I'd gone out two more times for replace most of my wardrobe, taking advantage of those 30-day return policies as much as possible, usually getting almost-full refunds from the sales clerks. I'd bought the clothes just a bit smaller than I expected, I would explain - and of course they weren't worn, how would a chest and hips like these ever be able to fit into such small sizes?

My hormones had balanced out, too, for the most part. Yes, I still watched more porn than I had before my transformation, yes, I still masturbated regularly, but I could hold off for a few days at a time, building up the pressure for one of my twice-weekly fuck-sessions with Becky. That sort of restraint would have been nearly impossible back in July. The tests Doctor Joyce ran each visit said much the same thing: my body - my urges, my growth spurts, my hormones and the whirlwind of emotions they elicited - was finally beginning to stabilize.

And of course, there was that sly, comforting part of me that I'd become far more familiar with, a welcome addition to my character. New Kat, who appeared with a wry grin when things got steamy, and relished each and every eye-rolling, back-arching, muscle-spasming orgasm that she either gave or got, a boost of confidence and self-assurance that added the extra sway to my hips as I walked and the smoky, smoldering gaze in my eyes as I silently practiced my new charms on the nameless, interchangeable fellow students at Penrose.

I refocused on the video still playing in front of me as I took stock of all of the developments of the last month, trying to push the myriad musings from my mind and finish the task that was, quite literally, at hand. The four-armed warrior was still slowly, steadily sliding her glistening member deeper between the tavern wench's stretched lips, one of the amazon's golden-toned hands caressing the bulge protruding from the small human's throat, rippling lewdly as the sheathed cock within would twitch and throb. Two of the woman's other hands were on her hips, gently guiding herself forward into the helpless barmaid's face, while her fourth and final arm lowered a half-empty wine bottle, backhandedly wiping away some stray drops from the wide, sultry grin that crossed her lips.

"Not bad for your first time taking a Shavarran she-cock, my sweet. Most can't even open wide enough to take more than the head. But here you are, halfway there! Let's see... can you do better than that?" There was a pitiful, protesting sound from underneath the warrior, but she laughed and thrust deeper, harder, and the length of exposed cock halved as another five inches or so slipped into the barmaid's throat, muffling a scream of mixed pain and pleasure.

Fuck, what I wouldn't give to have Becky's lips wrapped around my cock right now, just like that. I began to rhythmically work my hand along my shaft in time to the movement on the screen, picturing myself in the warrior's place. It didn't take long before the combined exhilaration of the porno, the memories of this past month, and my persistent pulling on my cock made me tilt my head back, mouth open in a silent moan, and I felt my hips and ass clench as the telltale churning in my balls swelled to a fever pitch. The floodgates opened, and a steady stream of thick white shot out in a geyser from my glans, arcing over the laptop, beyond my knees, and onto the bedspread around my feet. I felt a few splashes plop onto my toes, the warm seed working its way between them as they curled, every muscle in my body contracted and caught up in my blissful climax.

Fuck... oh, fuck yes. That had been a good one, my first in three days. I'd learned to wait, becoming more familiar with the limits of my new anatomy, finding out just how long I could tolerate it before it felt like my balls would burst. Sure, unloading deep in Becky's pussy was heavenly, and preferable to a solo session, but we hadn't been able to meet up yet this week; her parents were home every night for once, we didn't dare meet up here with Mom liable to find us, and we weren't ready to hook up in a hotel, at least not one here in town. Carrington was just large enough to get a decent room, but not so big that someone, somewhere, wasn't going to notice, especially when the two occupants looked as drop-dead sexy as Becky and I did. And that was assuming that we would't have someone breaking the door down to throw us out after two or three hours of mind-shattering orgasms, and all the screaming and swearing and bed-frame-shaking that came with it. Maybe if we went a county or two over, where no one knew us, and picked a hotel with no one in any of the rooms within earshot...

I sighed, catching my breath again as I paused the video and stretched to my nightstand to grab a handful of tissues. Just before I reached the box, my phone, sitting next to them, buzzed and lit up with a picture of Derek and I.

Shit. I panicked for a split second, as if he was just outside my door instead of on the other end of the line, imagining what a sight I was: stark naked, fantasy tranny porn playing on the hot laptop on my thighs, cum splashed across my bed and between my fingers and toes, my face red and flushed with exertion. Calm down, Kat, I told myself, taking a moment to breathe in. It's just a phone call, get a grip and answer it. I sighed and tentatively picked up the phone with my clean hand.

"Hey, Derek."

His reassuring tenor voice sounded a bit less confident than usual, as if he was just as unsure about this conversation as I was, but it was Derek all the same on the other end. "Kat! Hey. How... how are you?"

"I'm... I'm good, thanks. You?"

"Good, yeah. Yeah, just... just wanted to call, see what you were up to."

"Uh... not much, really. Doing some classwork, you know?" I glanced to the disheveled stack of papers at my side and stifled a groan as I noticed a stray salvo of white had flung itself across the pile, leaking through the first layers of my work, an economics essay. "Just... have to rewrite a few pages."

"Oh, okay. Cool. So, classes going okay?"

"Well enough, I guess. Not too crazy about my Anthropology class, but other than that, it's pretty good. How about you? Your classes?"

"Uh, well, you know... same."

I rolled my eyes, knowing that Derek was only going to college because his dad worked on the groundskeeping crew, making his tuition dirt-cheap, no pun intended. No one had ever accused my boyfriend of being an academic, that was for sure. "Ok, well... good."

"Yeah, it's... yeah. Um, so hey... you doing anything this weekend?"

I shifted on my bed, closing the laptop, the video still paused halfway through. "No, not... not really." Other than my bi-weekly visit with Becky, if we could find the time. Weekends were tricky with her: as a key member of the cheerleading squad, she had to go to the collegiate football games, which usually meant Brad was taking her home afterwards... the idea that he was ignorant of how hard I was fucking his girlfriend on the regular was often a factor in my arousal when we were in the midst of our animalistic mating. "I should be available, if nothing comes up. What's on your mind?"

"Ok, well, I was thinking... if you're up for it, maybe we can go out somewhere. I mean, I know it's... it's been a while, since it was just us."

I leaned back into the pillows and sighed slightly. A date, after... how long? Jesus, he was right. We hadn't really hung out together since that night at the party. The night that changed everything...

Was I ready for that? To go out again, with anyone, let alone him, the guy who'd unintentionally and unknowingly turned my life upside down? I still wasn't sure exactly how I felt about him, even before I'd changed. There were so many new possibilities available to me now, so many things I'd already done in just the span of the last four months.

I didn't love him, I knew that much. At least, not the way I thought I should, not the way I'd heard love should be. I mean, I felt even less towards him than I did towards Becky, and that was a transactional, almost pure hate-fucking relationship, nothing more. Hell, the thing that scared me the most about having to eventually come clean with him wasn't the fact that it would end our relationship - it was the uncertainty of what I was going to do afterwards. I wasn't really afraid of losing him at all, really, just afraid of not having even a pretense of a normal relationship. That alone should have been enough to tell me how I really felt about him.

"Kat? You still there?"

"I... yeah," I cleared my throat, coming out of my swirl of misgivings, and brought the phone back up to my ear. "Yeah, I just... you... you want to go out?"

"I mean, if you want to. If that's ok, after... all this time." There was an uncomfortable pause for a few seconds before he spoke again. "We're still... you know, a couple, right?"

He had a point. If I was going to break it off, I should have said as much that day we'd talked as we strolled across campus. I promised I'd give him shot at redemption. "I... yes, Derek. Yes, of course we are. Did you... have anything in mind?"

I could almost hear a sigh of relief on the other end of the line. "Ok, great. Um... yeah, I was thinking dinner. Somewhere nice, you know? Maybe.. maybe we go to Vittorio's? Then catch a movie at the mall?"

It was the nicest Italian restaurant in town, hell, probably the nicest restaurant of any kind in a fifty-mile radius. I smirked, pleasantly surprised by the suggestion. Maybe Derek actually had changed a bit over the last few months - he had always been more of a Kraft mac-and-cheese guy than a patron of fine cuisine. Who knows, some time on the outs might have been good for him after all...

I gave an exaggerated, dramatic sigh, relaxing just a bit. "Well now, what sort of girlfriend turns down a reservation at Vittorio's? You do know you have to call ahead there, right? And you'll probably want to wear something more than jeans and a t-shirt?" I teased lightly.

"Is that a yes?"

I smiled, unable to help but be charmed by this uncharacteristic nervousness, something I hadn't seen him show since the first few weeks we'd been together. Why not give the poor, dumb hunk another chance? "... sure, Derek. It's a yes."

"Ok. Ok, great, yeah! Um... Saturday at six? Can I pick you up?"

Today was Wednesday; I had some time to get myself in order, to prepare myself for... well, anything."Yeah, that's good. I'll be ready."

"Got it. I'll see you then."

There was another short pause, a small moment where any other pair would have exchanged 'I love you' to each other, but we both knew we'd never been that sort of couple... and with the way I'd changed over the last months, I was sure that we never would be, not anymore. I smiled all the same, still touched by his vulnerability, the charming guy that he usually tried to keep hidden under his aloof, rebellious exterior - the guy I knew he could be, from time to time, and wished that he'd let out more often. "I'll see you then, Derek. Thanks for the call, for.. for talking a bit. Bye."

I tapped the screen, the call ended, and I sighed one more time, half-content, half-exasperated with myself. I had agreed to a date, after all these months and weeks of not knowing how to handle my new situation where Derek was concerned. He hadn't mentioned sex, and I sure as hell wasn't going to just give it up that easily after all he'd unwittingly done - did the phrase "giving it up" even apply anymore, now that I had a cock? - but a date meant we were going to try to make an honest go of it again, and that key word, honest, sent a shiver of doubt and concern down my spine. It meant telling him, sooner rather than later, that the Kat he once knew, in both body and spirit, was a fundamentally different person now.

Was that really a bad thing, though, if I wasn't seriously interested in keeping this relationship going? Maybe this was an easy way out - but if that was the case, then why was I so worked up over it? Why couldn't I just break things off, quick and clean, and move on with my life? Did that lingering uncertainty mean that maybe I did feel something deeper, something worth holding onto? But until recently, I hadn't been certain of almost anything lately, so was this really any different than the rest of my still-unsettled, kind-of-crazy life?

I had an uneasy feeling that by the end of Saturday night, whether I wanted them to or not, all those questions would either be clearly answered or rendered irrelevant. Everything would change, again.

There was really only one question within my control, I realized with a muffled groan as I threw a pillow over my face in exasperation. After no dates for four months, my curvaceous new frame, and the nine-inch animal between my legs... what on earth was I going to wear?

- - - - -

"Ok... how about this one?"

I stepped out from the changing room, not entirely confident in the dress I'd picked out, and gave a small spin for Del, sitting opposite my door. She grinned and nodded slightly, the frizzy curls in her thick black hair bobbing with the motion.

"I think that's the best so far, Kat."

"Really? I don't know. I'm not... showing, am I?" I ran a hand gently down the front, trying to detect any telltale bulge below my waist.

"Not against the dark fabric, no," she said. "And if you end up being too much for both the panties and the dress to keep hidden, there's always the tape."

I groaned. "Ugh, Jesus no. That's so uncomfortable, you have no idea."

She chuckled. "Just throwing it out there. I think it looks great."

It was the next day, Thursday, and we were out on an impromptu shopping trip. As soon as I knew I'd be needing a new dress to fit my enhanced figure, I'd known I would need a helping hand to make sure I picked the right one. It seemed too risky a venture to bring Jess into, with her still unaware of my nine-inch secret, so I took my chances and called Del. She was thrilled to help out, and was luckily off work the next day, so after my classes, she picked me up from campus - my lack of a car was becoming an unexpected disadvantage with my new social schedule - and we drove straight to the mall to begin our search. I took the opportunity during the drive to give her the rough details on how I'd gotten into this predicament, going through the events of the summer, telling her about those heady, panicky days when I'd first started changing.

Now that we were here, I'd tried on five different dresses so far, with varying degrees of satisfaction in the results. One was far too tight across my hips, leaving an undeniable impression of my member against the red fabric. Another was cut too low in the chest, my new tits almost spilling out over the top. A third was too long and flowing, more appropriate for a high-society gala or awards ceremony. It was hard to find the right style that imparted the right feeling: confident without being overtly sexual, accentuating my figure without making me look like I was craving attention. I wanted to look good for Derek, but I didn't want to lead him on. More importantly, I didn't want to give him the impression that I was looking for a good time afterwards, only to give him the shock of a lifetime when the dress finally came off.

I turned back to the mirror in the dressing room. This last dress was a bit more conservatively cut than some of the others I'd tried: sleeveless, but cropped higher in the chest to cover most of my cleavage, lower in the legs to cover the knees, with its one risqué feature, a plunging curve in the back that dipped down to just a few inches above my waist. As for the color, it was a deep, silky emerald green that shimmered in the light but turned almost black when it was in shadow. Maybe...

Del stood up and walked closer, stepping into the changing room with me. "When it comes to picking a good dress - picking any clothes, really - it all really comes down to one question. How does it make you feel when you see yourself in the mirror? Do you like what you see, or no?"

I paused for a moment. How did it make me feel? It was... actually rather nice, I guess. There was a certain mix of solid sophistication and daring risk, old meeting new, a classy look with a modern twist. The cut was timeless, the color just bold enough to take it to the next level. Now that I'd looked it over again, I had to admit, it had a certain... something.

Del paused for a moment, letting me compose my thoughts, before she spoke again. "Of course, it depends on how you want the date to go, as well. Is there a certain... outcome... that you're hoping for that night?"

"I... I don't know, Del. I mean, Derek's... he's nice, and we've been together for over a year. I just don't know if he's ready for... well, me. The new me, that is."

"Hmm. And if he's not? What happens then?"

"We... we break up, I guess." It felt strange to say it out loud like that, despite the fact that I'd been running that scenario over and over again in my head. The words hung there in the air for a moment, the possibility somehow much more real when it was spoken. It felt even stranger to be saying it to someone like Del, who I hadn't known for very long.

"Is that what you want, Kat?"

I ran my hands over my hips, taking stock of my clouded thoughts as I examined the dress again in the mirror. "I... I really don't know. I thought I knew, I mean... I don't love him. I'm not sure we ever really were close enough to love each other, really. It was always... a physical relationship, more than anything else."

"I see. Well... if it's just physical intimacy that you two are looking for in a partner, who's to say that you have to break up after all? I'm sure you can work something out. Anything that your man likes that really gets him going?"

I cracked an incredulous smile. "Not really. Derek's pretty straightforward, he doesn't need much to get excited. But something tells me that this..." I slid my hand down to my crotch and gently grabbed myself through the fabric. "... might be a bit of a non-starter for him. Derek's always liked... Jesus, Del, listen to me, going on with all the sordid details..."

She giggled behind me, leaning closer, and put her hands on my shoulders, both of us looking at my reflection. "It's nothing I haven't heard before, Kat. You do remember that I work in a sex shop, right? Customers tell me a lot about their hangups, all the time, believe me."

"No, I get that, it's just... he's straight, one hundred percent." I lowered my voice, trying to be discreet in case any other customers might be nearby. "I just can't see him being too thrilled with me suddenly having a nine-inch cock instead of a pussy, you know? How are we going to have sex?"

That question made her laugh again, louder than before, and she quickly covered her mouth. I felt my cheeks blush, suddenly embarrassed by such a stupid query.

"Del... come on, it's - "

"No, Kat, I'm sorry. It's just..." She giggled again before composing herself somewhat. "You really don't have too much experience with different things before this summer, huh?"

"I guess not. I mean, we always did pretty vanilla stuff, I guess. Missionary mostly, some doggy style..."

"You ever suck his dick?"

"Jesus, Del!" I half-hissed, half-laughed, shocked by how frank of a question it was in such a public setting. I realized my reaction was pretty ironic, given the fact that she'd been the one to give me my first blowjob, and less than an hour after meeting me for the first time, no less.

"Well, have you?"

"Yes, Del, I've sucked his dick. Honestly, this conversation..."

"And he probably liked it, and it got him there, right? Most guys, that's good enough in their book. A cumshot's a cumshot, darling. That's not going to change because of your new equipment."

"I... I mean, I guess so. It's still not really sex, though, you know?"

"You mean... penetration?"

"Well... yeah."

"Ok... do you guys do anal?"

My face turned a deeper shade of red in the mirror as I felt the heat of embarrassment building. Despite the wild turns our conversation had taken, I'd never have been able to guess that this was what we'd be discussing during an otherwise routine shopping trip.

"Well?" She leaned forward more, gently pressing herself against my back, where the deep dive of the dress exposed my skin. I suddenly became aware of the warmth of her body against mine and felt a tingle go down my spine. "Have you ever done it?"

"We... we tried, once or twice. It... wasn't great." The first attempt had been about five or six months after we'd started dating. I'd been so tense and uncertain that I was unable to relax, and despite Derek's modest size, it had been far too painful for me, and I'd had to talk him out of it. Another attempt some time later, when he'd been half-drunk, ended prematurely: he was able to get in, but after just a few pumps, he'd lost his balance and stumbled to the side, killing the mood and dooming that night to join the dozens of others where I had to find my own satisfaction alone with my trusty dildo and vibrator.

I pulled myself back into the moment, thinking about Del's implied suggestion. I wasn't sure I wanted to have sex with Derek at all, not just yet, but if I did, then... maybe. "I guess we could give it another try. It's not like he's... too big, you know, I just haven't really had anything up there before, any more than a few seconds at a time. But if I... we... take it nice and easy..."

Del cracked a playful smile. "That's the spirit. Just be open to new things. I mean, how many experiences have you had in the last four months, just because you kept an open mind?"

I scoffed. "It's less about having an open mind and more about having a rock-hard dick at the worst possible times..."

"Still, you're making the most of it, from what I can see. Living out the life you want, right? And it's because you're not afraid to just reach out and take it. You're keeping an open mind. And you never know... maybe Derek can surprise you with what he's willing to experience."

That last sentence stirred something in me. Combined with the subtle warmth coming from Del's body against my back, it was enough to make me twitch slightly under the silky dress. I was suddenly imagining it, trying to see how I could make Saturday night play out. It felt strange: before, I was uncomfortable, uneasy, hesitant. But now I was considering the possibilities. Maybe I could afford to let my guard down, to cut loose with Derek one last time, just see where it could take us.

We could start the way we always did, some light caresses and kisses. The foreplay, usually pitifully, disappointingly short as we stripped. I could take the lead and go down on him, get him ready, and then, before he hit the top, stop short. I'd show him what I had, how much I'd changed. Once that initial shock wore off, if he was still hard, then...

"I don't know. I... it'd freak him out."

"Hm. Maybe. But you won't know until you try. Anyways, we're getting ahead of ourselves. Maybe the date won't get that far, and we're overthinking something that won't happen. But still... I think once he gets a real good look at what you've got..."

Her hands slowly moved down from my shoulders, sliding softly down my back, and I shivered in unexpected delight. I throbbed again under the dress, feeling her light, almost ticklish touch as her hands reached the small of my back.

"Del..."

She paused for a moment, turning her head to whisper in my ear. "I've seen my fair share of straight guys take a walk on the wild side for a strong, confident woman who knows what she wants. You'd be surprised how many of them are... open-minded like that. Usually it involves a strap-on, of course, but in your case, you have something even better. The real deal."

Her hands kept moving, her thumbs hooking into the cutout of the dress against my back, and soon they both slipped inside, the snug confines of the fabric gently pressing her warm fingers against my skin, each hand cradling the curves of my hips. I felt the final surge of blood rush down in between my thighs, and the dress tightened and tented in front of me, my rapidly-growing hard-on pushing out against my panties and beyond.

Del nuzzled her nose against my shoulder, breathing in before she turned and kissed my neck. "I can show you how to make him feel really good. Give him something he's never experienced before."

"Mmm... and what..." - oh fuck, I was already having trouble focusing - "... what did you have in mind?"

She half-hummed, half-laughed into my shoulder. "How about you get undressed while I step out for a minute. I'll make sure we aren't going to be bothering anyone else."

I nodded as I felt her hands slip back out of the dress, feeling another shiver go down my back as I was immediately craving more of that warmth, that sensation of her delicate, soft skin against mine. I turned and watched as Del backed away, slipping around the corner of the changing room door and down the short hallway, and wondered what she'd meant before I closed the door, keeping it unlocked for her return.

I turned back around and faced the mirrored wall as I slowly raised the hem of the dress up, bunching it around my waist. It caught for a moment on the tip of my cock, already straining against my panties, but with another small tug, it slipped over the top and I watched myself bounce back to attention, the pink underwear stretched lewdly out around the erection, valiantly fighting - and failing - to control my girl-cock.

I lifted the cool, silky fabric over my shoulders and head, shaking my hair loose as I let the dress fall down my arms and onto the bench in front of me, and stood there looking at myself in the mirror for a moment. My gorgeous, voluptuous breasts, my shapely hips, even the subtle changes in my face, hands, and even the way I moved, as if my summertime transformation had tinkered and improved every bit of me, just a little bit. And of course there was the biggest change of all, poking out there in front of me.

A minute later, I heard footsteps as Del returned, slowly opening the door to see me in my underwear. She was carrying a bath towel, which she dropped to the side as she entered, grinning while she took in the sight. "Beautiful as ever. This boyfriend of yours would be insane to not hear you out, no matter what you have between your legs. I mean, that ass alone..."

I shifted, putting an hand on my hip and striking a bit of a pose. "Well, thank you, Del. But really, one day, we'll have to find a better place than a changing room to hook up. It's too cramped."

We both giggled for a moment as she locked the door and turned to me, putting her hands back on my hips, and I leaned into her. My cock pressed against her jeans, and I could feel her warmth radiating out from underneath the denim at the same time as my nipples brushed against her t-shirt. The twin sensations made both of the tender, excitable spots on my body bristle and harden even more.

Del looked at me for a second through heavy-lidded, sultry eyes, before moving her face to mine. A moment later, my eyes fluttered closed, and I felt our lips touch, a soft, gentle, pleasant pressure as I hummed contentedly into her mouth. It didn't last long, though, and she pulled away a few heartbeats later, another, an even wider smile on her face, that mesmerizing twinkle in her emerald-green eyes, almost the color of the discarded dress.

"Not quite as salty as our other kisses."

I chuckled, remembering our first encounter. "This is the first without one of us having my cum in their mouth."

"Well, I know what I prefer. But maybe later." She moved her hands to my stomach and slowly pushed me back, stepping away so there were a few feet between us. "For now, I'm going to show you something that has never, ever, failed to make a guy whimper and moan for me. It gets them begging for more, no matter how much of a traditional, man's-man type he is, no matter how many women he's bedded or how big his dick is."

"And... what would that be?"

She motioned to the bath towel on the floor. "Be a dear and get on your hands and knees for me? I brought that to make it a bit more comfortable."

I paused for a moment before gingerly lowering myself until I could grab the towel. I folded it over and put it under my knees, then leaned forward and almost-gracefully put my hands out to catch myself.

Now that I was in the desired position, I looked up to see Del undoing her belt. "What exactly did you mean when you said you were going to make sure we wouldn't disturb anyone?"

"Well, you weren't wrong when you said we need to stop doing this in changing rooms. It's a bit different back at Violet Delights - I mean, we weren't the first ones to go at it in those rooms, not by a long shot - but here, we need to be a bit more... prepared. More careful." She undid the button and zipper, tugging the jeans away to reveal perfect, caramel-mocha-colored thighs. A pair of neon-orange panties sat high on her hips and dipped down in a broad inverted triangle between her legs. I almost laughed when I took a closer look at them: printed across the front, hiding her lower lips, were large black letters in stencil font, filling up the space and leaving little room for anything else: CONTENTS FRAGILE. HANDLE WITH CARE. Between the two sentences, the singular word DON'T was scrawled in a rougher script. Where does she get this sort of stuff? I wondered, chuckling inwardly.

"So..." I continued, trying to balance my curiosity, the raging rush of arousal, and the hint of flirtatious whimsy from the panties. "... what did you do? To make sure we're left alone?"

"The manager here is a customer of mine. Comes in every few months for... well, she loves anything stainless steel. Dildos, plugs, collars, cuffs, clamps... and lord, does she go through lube like it's going out of style. Anyways, she owes me a favor or two. Told me where to find a sign saying the changing rooms are closed for cleaning. And they might have to actually be cleaned, if we don't watch ourselves..."

Her shirt fell to the ground in front of me and she walked around behind, where my ass was stuck in the air, awaiting inspection. I heard her lowering herself to a kneeling position behind me, and I dropped my head, looking down below myself. Past my swaying boobs, twitching cock, and my legs, Del's own knees appeared. I felt her hands gently push my legs apart, spreading them further as she settled into place.

"You have a marvelous ass, Kat. Has your boyfriend ever told you that?"

"Well, no, but I... it didn't look like this before. It came with... well, all the rest."

I felt her hands drift up my legs and come to rest on my exposed cheeks. "Hmm. Incredible. It just looks so... natural. The size, the proportions with your hips..." One hand lifted, and a moment later, a sharp, crisp slap echoed in the small space as she brought it back down. I whimpered, surprised and excited by the tingle of pain and pleasure from that harsher contact, so different from the delicate, loving caresses she'd given me so far.

She hummed, pleased by my reaction. "You didn't mind that, did you, Kat?"

"I... no, it... it was nice."

She giggled. "It looked nice, too. Gave you a bit of a sexy jiggle back here. Does he ever give you a little spank?"

"Derek? No... he..." I felt flustered for a moment, almost annoyed when I thought about it. "Derek doesn't think too much about what I might like. He tries, but not too much."

"That's a shame... so I'm guessing... that he also never did this before..."

She trailed off, and I was about to ask her what she was talking about before I felt her hands part my cheeks. A second later, something else, something new: a gentle, wet, probing pressure on my... my asshole, a place I'd never, ever felt anything like that. There were my pathetic, abortive attempts at anal with Derek, but that was rough, course, painful. I'd never even gone back there with my dildo, even after all my recent experiments and increased appetites. This was new: different, better, more pleasurable. Del was tonguing me, eating my ass, something no one had ever done to me before.

And it felt, to borrow her word, marvelous. She was exploring, tasting, testing how far her tongue could take her, just like how I treated Becky when we did our weekly- or twice-weekly hookups. I hadn't exactly been expecting it, and the shock of it added another layer to the intimacy, the sensation that someone was diving down into that shameful, sinful place, and with every pass of her tongue, Del was helping me inch higher and higher up a crescendo. On deeper attempts, I felt her nose push against me, her tongue would go further in, and a handful of stars appeared in my vision. Was that...? I'd heard of that g-spot in the ass, up against the prostate. I'd never been one to go looking for it, not even on my loneliest nights, but if that was how good it felt, then I'd been a damn fool not to give it a try after all this time, both before and after my transformation.

I started moaning on the better, deeper intrusions, trying to push my hips back against Del's face, hoping that my participation would help drive her in, even just a fraction of an inch more. A few moments later, she pulled out and flicked up and down over my hole, teasing the skin and making me pucker as I whimpered at the rapid-fire stimulation. All the while, my cock twitched and throbbed. Even in this position, where it would have been hanging down were it soft and flaccid, it was rigid enough to be pressing up against my stomach, as hard and high as it could be.

Del pulled away again, stopping for just a second to give me a kiss squarely on my excited, winking hole, twitching almost in time with my cock, and I panted at the sudden feeling of cooler air on the sensitive area, silently wishing she'd continue, continue for another minute, another hour, as long as she could...

"So..." she said lowly, the sultry, sand-and-sea-evoking edge of her Caribbean accept coming through in the low rumble of her voice. "... how was that?"

"It... shit, Del, that... was amazing..." I turned my head, craning around to see her, and got a decent look at her without a shirt. Just like last time, those lovely boobs were perfect, cradled lightly in a frilly bra that was the same bright orange as her panties.

"Hmm. And that's only part of it. You give him a good tonguing back there, that's one thing. But combine it with a decent handjob - make him feel both things at the same time - and you're in a whole new world of pleasure. He'll cum for sure, and like a fountain more likely than not. Tease that prostate, and most men will be begging for more after they've shot out a few ropes. Do it right, you'll be milking him dry in no time, and he'll still want more."

I nodded, taking in her advice, and gave my ass a little shake, the movement traveling down into my balls and along my rock-hard cock. "Care to demonstrate? The whole experience, that is?"

She grinned again, grabbing me tightly as I turned back to face forward. "Just to make sure you know what to do... I'd be happy to." She reached down between my legs and gently wrapped a hand around my hard member, giving it a tiny squeeze to start with and eliciting another appreciative moan from my lips.

I closed my eyes as I felt the warm wetness return to my hole, and sighed happily, settling in for another round and looking forward to the explosive white flood that was sure to follow, that blinding rush of ecstasy and relief. In two days' time, if all went well - and it was strange to think that I'd been so nervous beforehand, given how eagerly I was looking forward to it now - there would be enough of that tasty, sticky, creamy cum from both Derek and I to satisfy even my wildest appetites. I wondered how both of them might taste together, my more complex profile blending with his stronger, saltier, one-note palette.

If things went very, very well... maybe I could convince him to give it a taste, and more. It wouldn't be an easy sell, I knew that, but with the right words, the right moves, the right look - I glanced at the green dress I'd had on, suddenly satisfied with it - maybe New Kat could make Derek take a walk on the wild side, just like Del said. After all, she'd already tamed Becky Parsons, turning her into a begging, squirting slut, my own personal cock-sleeve once or twice a week. Compared to that stuck-up bitch, Derek wasn't going to be too much of a challenge. I almost heard New Kat chuckle inside me at the thought.

Challenge or not, we're going to have fun this weekend. Worst case scenario, there's always Becky to keep me busy. Best case, we add Derek to the rotation. Either way, we've got options.

And it would be so much fun to show him how to really fuck someone...

- - - - -

The next two days were little more than a blur to me. Saturday came before I knew it, and that afternoon, I started getting ready for my night out. First, a refreshing shower, where I made sure to shave; these past few months, I'd usually shaved my legs, just as I did before, but even now, there was next to no pubic hair above my new cock, a strange side effect to my already strange condition. Then an hour doing my hair and makeup, followed by another half-hour getting dressed. The emerald-green slip, witness to my debauchery with Del, went on over a matching pair of black-lace bra and panties, the former held in place only with a thin, transparent strap across my back, almost invisible unless seen very, very closely. Black nylon stockings were pulled up my legs, feeling delightfully cool against my smooth skin, and I finished with a pair of two-inch heels. I rarely wore shoes like that before this summer, always feeling like I was trying too hard, pushing myself to be sexier than I actually was, but now, they felt almost natural. I still took a few minutes to practice walking in them, getting used to how my fuller frame had subtly changed my balance and center of gravity.

After I finished, I stepped in front of the trusty mirror to get a look at the results. The outfit was perfect, my curves filling it out nicely, the heels and stockings accentuating the contour of my legs. My hair, which I usually wore just past the shoulder, was teased and curled into a thick, wavy cascade of auburn. Paired with deep red lipstick and just a hint of eyeshadow, I looked almost like a 1940's movie star, especially when I tried practicing a smoky, come-hither look, inevitably ruined when I couldn't keep a straight face, humored by my own expression.

Despite that, I looked incredible. I felt incredible. I'd been becoming more and more pleased, more comfortable with this new body in the last few weeks, bolstered by my newfound persona and the thrill of my sordid liaisons with Del and Becky, even the encounters with nurse Emeline every month - though compared with what I'd been experiencing lately, her clinical, controlled handjobs seemed almost boring. I still wanted to give her a... proper demonstration, one of these days. I felt a tiny throb in my crotch, the panties shifting slightly, and looked down at my reflection. A small bump appeared as I shifted slightly, but disappeared just as easily. Good: I had some leeway with this dress, a bit of slack if I should happen to get too aroused before... well, before the big reveal, I suppose.

I was split on whether or not I wanted to tell Derek - although it would be more honest to say, whether or not I wanted to have some sort of sexual encounter with him tonight. Del had shown me how, of course; how to tease and coax and stimulate both the ass and the cock at the same time. I'd shivered and whimpered as she worked me over, hitting a climax that had been higher than most I'd experienced lately, and sure enough, just like she promised I would, I ended up begging for more. She'd been more than willing to oblige me, and after another two leg-shaking, mind-boggling orgasms, my knees and elbows finally gave out, and I collapsed into a panting, gasping heap, splashing down into a pool of my own hot cum. And truth be told, I hadn't masturbated since then, over 48 hours, and while that wasn't the longest I'd gone between my solo sessions, I'd been half-consciously postponing that sort of activity until after tonight. If we were going to be getting busy after dinner, I wanted a full tank to work with, so to speak.

The real problem would be how I'd manage to tell him, to show him, without having him freak the fuck out on me. I had a few ideas, to be sure: I'd have to ease him into it, get him relaxed and probably a bit horny, make it so that he'd still be needing some sort of satisfaction, even after I came clean and showed him the goods. I could do that, I supposed... and maybe after I'd used Del's special technique, we could see where else the night could go.

I glanced at the alarm clock beside my bed: ten 'til six. Derek would be here soon. I walked over to the dresser, grabbed my purse and phone, and took a deep breath. Time to go, I heard that little, sexy whisper in my head, that part of me that was really looking forward to this, in spite of all the trepidation and all the ways it could - and probably would - end in disaster.

I left my room and carefully picked my way down the stairs, wishing I'd been smart enough to wait to put on the heels until I'd already come down. There was quiet conversation in the living room; Mom was home, and there on the couch with her was...

"Aunt Gwen! Hey!"

If I looked good after nearly two hours of getting ready for my date, it was still a step or two below how good Gwen looked as she stood up from the couch and stepped over to me, arms outstretched for a hug. Her golden hair, ageless tanned skin, and of course her rocking body. I had an impressive figure, for sure, but Aunt Gwen had always been drop-dead gorgeous, good enough to have been a supermodel in another life. Even wearing her current outfit - a loose-fitting black button-down blouse and dark blue skinny jeans - there was that effortless grace and confidence, to say nothing of her natural charm and easygoing disposition.

She gave me a long hug, and I was careful to arch my back slightly, keeping my waist away from hers without seeming like I was pulling away entirely. "Kat! It's been a while, huh? You haven't come around my side of town these last few months."

She let me go, and I smiled as I tucked my hair back over my shoulders. "Yeah, just... been a bit crazy, you know? Getting ready for classes, and now actually in classes, so..."

She held my shoulders as I spoke, and I saw her eyes travel up and down my body. I blushed slightly as she whistled in appreciation. "And you're looking amazing! My god, look at you, you're beautiful! When did I last see you in person? May?"

"April, Gwen," Mom chimed in from the couch. "We went to your parent's place for Easter, remember?"

"That's it, right... and you've filled in nicely since then, Kat, really. Like a whole new person, you're stunning!"

"I... thanks, Aunt Gwen. Late blooming, you know?"

"I told her that it would be her turn soon," Mom said, turning to face us with a smile. "Just took a bit longer than most girls, that's all."

I felt the blushing grow deeper at the attention. "Yeah... I almost look like you, huh, Aunt Gwen? Must be something from your side of the family."

There was something funny in her smile as I said it, like a hint of a bad memory had flitted across her mind. I cursed myself for being so stupid: neither she nor Mom really spoke too much about Dad, and here I was, coming within a few words of mentioning him outright. That's exactly what it was: bad memories, of him. Of him being selfish and leaving us, just when Mom needed him most.

"I... sorry, I didn't mean to..."

She pulled me into another hug. "Oh, it's fine, Kat. Your... your dad... well, if he were here, I'm sure he'd be kicking himself for missing out on seeing what a fine woman you've turned into, both inside and out. Your mom and I... well, we've always been so proud of you. You know that, right? And that's all you need. Just us."

"I... I know, Aunt Gwen. Thanks. Sorry again."

She pulled back again, taking a breath to compose herself, and smiled. "And you're all dolled up tonight, huh? Got any plans?"

"Yeah, we - that is, Derek and I - we're going out tonight. Dinner at Vittorio's."

Her smile turned into a playful grin. "Ooh, fancy, huh? Guess that boy is finally going to put in some effort now that you're way out of his league, and treat you the way you should have been all along."

I giggled. Aunt Gwen had never cared much for Derek, and had been pretty upfront about it since the get-go. "We'll have to see if he's worth keeping, depending on how he acts tonight."

"Well, don't wait up for us," Mom added, standing up and walking over to join us. "We're headed out to a friend's place for drinks and a movie. Should probably leave here soon."

Gwen nudged me on the shoulder, that knowing smirk on her face. "Might be out for most of the night, if you and Derek need the place to yourselves after dinner."

I felt the embarrassment rush back to my face and gave a flustered smile. "Gwen!" Mom chided with a laugh. "Don't tease the girl!"

"Hey, just throwing it out there!" She turned back to me with a wink. "If he wants to keep her, he's gonna have to prove how much he wants it, right, Kat?"

"Sure, Aunt Gwen. Thanks for the... advice." Just then, my phone buzzed with an incoming text. I looked down, checking it quickly; he was outside. "I... I gotta go. It's been great seeing you," I said, giving a small hug to both Mom and Gwen in turn. "We'll have to hang out sometime. A weekend, when Mom's off and I don't have much homework."

"Sure thing, darling," Gwen smiled. "Have a great time tonight!"

There was that strange look in her face again for a moment - and it was in Mom's eyes, too - as I turned the doorknob and stepped outside. Pride, I supposed, at how much I'd grown up before their very eyes, and of course love. They were really all that I had in the way of family. There were my grandparents on Dad's side, Aunt Gwen's family, but that was about it, and they lived a few counties over. Here in Carrington, it was just us three. And now, I'd become a strong, beautiful, confident woman, just like they both were. Although, maybe not just like them, in one big way...

Derek was parked outside in his souped-up Honda - I swear, he spent more time and money this last year on that car than he ever did with me - but to his credit, he leapt out and walked around to open the door for me.

"Hi, Kat. You look... wow."

I smiled as I climbed in. "Thank you. Everything ready?"

"Yeah. I got the reservation, just like you said." He closed the door and sprinted around the front to climb back in.

We drove off, headed downtown. I gazed out the window at the evening sky, already turning a pastel palette of oranges and pinks, and wondered exactly how long it had really been since the two of us had been on a proper date. Not hanging out at home, not going to a party with a hundred other people, but going somewhere and doing something, just the two of us. I turned back at Derek, taking him in. He'd followed my teasing advice about dressing up, to a degree. His usual frayed jeans had been replaced by more formal slacks, and the perennial plain white t-shirt had become a navy-colored, long-sleeved, collared button-down, done the whole way to the top. He'd traded his beat-up Converse for slick brown oxfords, and he wore a watch I'd never seen before - nothing name-brand, but nice nonetheless.

He glanced over, catching my eye as I appraised him. "Everything good?"

"Yeah. You're just looking nice tonight, that's all."

"Oh. Well... thanks. And you, too."

I smiled. "You already said that, but compliment me as much as you like, I'll let it slide. So... what have you been up to lately?"

"Ah, you know. Classes, mostly. It's more work than I thought, to be honest. And still keeping an eye out for a mechanic job, like I was talking about. Just... haven't gotten around to finding the right one yet."

Derek had few passions other than smoking weed and goofing off all day, but I had to give him credit, he could do better-than-average when it came to working on cars. Too bad his chronic procrastination and tendency to get bored kept him from holding down a steady job. I put on a kind, hopeful expression all the same. "I'm sure something'll come along soon. Always plenty of garages to choose from around here."

"Yeah. And how about you? What have you been up to?"

"Oh, not too much," I lied, easier than I thought I could. "Staying focused on schoolwork, same as you. Hanging out with Jess when I can. Making a few new friends along the way, so... a bit busier, socially."

"Ok. Makes sense, I guess."

I cocked my head slightly, intrigued by his reply. "How do you mean?"

"Well, one of the guys - I think it was Zach, from - well, anyways, he said he drove down Minerva Drive last week and you were coming out of the Parsons' place. I didn't know you and Becky Parsons were friends."

I felt a tiny lump form in my throat, caught unawares by the question. Of all the rotten luck... "Yeah, she and I... we go back. I mean, we weren't really friends in high school, but she... knew of me. And... we have a couple classes together now." Yeah, if our fuck sessions could be counted as an advanced sex-ed course, I fumed inwardly. Keep it together, Kat.

"Oh, nice. So you guys hang out now?"

"It was... a little party, that's all. Just some of the gals from our Journalism class. Becky's with the school paper and she hosts get-togethers for the freshmen to mingle with the staff." I wasn't even taking a Journalism class, and if Becky was involved in the college paper, the Penrose Primer, it certainly hadn't come up during our time together. I was stringing together whatever felt like it might sound right, just looking for answers and blurting them out as I thought of them.

I realized that, for the first time that I could remember, I was consciously, actively lying to my boyfriend. The idea put a knot in my stomach, but what was the alternative? Well, Derek, I've been sucking and fucking my way through the summer, eating out every pussy I can get my hands on before blasting it full to the brim with my hot cum, ever since I grew a big fat cock thanks to your shitty pull-out game?

Yeah. Hard pass on that one. For right now, lying was better. Truth would come later tonight.

We were fairly quiet the rest of the ride, though not uncomfortably so, and we arrived at the restaurant a few minutes later. Derek parked and made a point to open my door again, taking my hand as I climbed out. We headed inside, Derek gave his name to the maître 'd, and soon we were sitting down at a table along the western wall. Wide windows gave a sweeping view over the three blocks between here and the lake shore, where the low-hanging sun cast golden ripples against the surface as it inched ever closer to the shadowed mountain range beyond. Gentle music played somewhere nearby - Vittorio's prided itself on many things, one of them being a resident pianist near the bar - and soft, yellow lights in the ceiling were just bright enough to illuminate the space, but not so much to overwhelm the decorative candles that had been placed on each table to set a more intimate, romantic mood.

Neither of us were old enough to drink yet, only nineteen and twenty, so Derek had a water while I went with a strawberry lemonade. I would have loved a nice wine to set my mind more at ease and help me relax, but maybe afterwards, when we were done here. A few minutes later, we ordered and started making small talk again as we waited.

I looked out over the silhouettes of the buildings between us and the waterfront. "Haven't been downtown like this in a while. I forgot how nice it gets this time of year. Not too chilly just yet, and the leaves are starting to change colors."

"Yeah. Hard to believe it's basically fall now," Derek added, shifting to turn and look outside with me. "Seems like summer was a blur."

"Yeah..."

There was a moment of silence, and I suddenly felt a light graze on my hand, sitting beside me on the table as I lost myself in the scenery. He'd reached over and was gently hooking his pinky finger around mine. I stayed still, but lifted my eyes to meet his across the table.

"I... I missed you, Kat. Over the summer, I mean."

"... yeah. I know. I... missed you, too."

"I know you were... upset... about what happened. How we..." he cleared his throat awkwardly, uncomfortably, no doubt recalling the argument we'd had that night at the party. "... what our last night out turned into. And I know that I already said it last month, when we talked a little bit, but... I'm sorry about that, I still am."

I slowly turned back to face him, turning my hand over under his so that our palms touched. "I know that, Derek. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry, too. I freaked out on you, left you hanging for months, and... well, a lot happened..."

"You were right to be mad, Kat," he said, his voice low and soft in the dim light. "I... I haven't always been good to you, I see that now. Taking you for granted, not spending enough time with you. Hell, I went off to the city for almost six months - I mean, we were only together for that much time before I left, by the time we had our one-year anniversary, I'd been gone for almost half of it. Point is, you could have left. You... you should have left, maybe."

"Derek..."

"... and I know that my word isn't really worth shit, I get that. I'm a slacker and a stoner and a bit of an asshole, especially to you sometimes, but I want to change that. This time spent away from you - it was different."

"... how do you mean?"

"Well... okay, so down in the city, we were apart, but I knew you were probably still gonna be there for me when I came back. I knew that... that I was your first boyfriend, and that I could probably do whatever I wanted, and you'd still take me back."

He wasn't wrong: I'd been naive, desperate, and just looking for someone, anyone, to cling onto, someone who told me that the old Kat was good enough - tiny ass, almost-flat chest, quiet, shy, mousy Kat - or at least didn't make me feel bad about how plain I was. Despite his shortcomings, Derek at least had that much decency, and the sex, unimpressive as it was, had made me feel like I was attractive enough for somebody. "And now?"

"After... that night... when you wouldn't take my calls, and we didn't see each other for two months, I started getting... well, scared."

"Scared?"

"Yeah. That... that you had finally had enough of me. Because let's face it, Kat, I'm no prize. No job, going to college just because my dad got me free tuition, no real ambitions. I mean, hell, I'm paying for this meal tonight with money I borrowed from my folks. And now you're..."

He trailed off, and I blushed, knowing where he was going, what he was about to say but didn't want to come off as shallow. "Prettier?"

"Yeah. I mean... you were already pretty in your own way, just not hot - that's to say... ah, shit."

I smiled, squeezing his hand in mine. "It's fine, Derek. I know what you mean."

"I'm just... what I'm trying to say is, when I saw you afterwards, you looked so... different. And I wondered if maybe you knew you could do a lot better than me. Because you deserve a lot better than me. And I thought that maybe we were done. That I'd fucked up one last time, and that was it."

We were both quiet for a moment, letting the words sink in. We let each other's hands loose as our meals came out, then sat there in silence for another minute as we both tinkered with the silverware and took a few tentative bites.

I took another sip of my drink and looked back at him, picking up the conversation. "I'm not going to lie, Derek... a lot has changed since then. Like I said when we were talking that day on campus, I think we need to see where we're really going in this relationship. What we want from the future, from each other."

"Anything you want, Kat, I'll... it's yours. Honest."

"Derek, don't say that. I... I don't need someone waiting on me hand and foot, we just need a bit more of an equal standing in this, you know? We have to consider the other person. You have to consider the other person, especially. Spend a bit more time with me, take a little more interest in what I like. And I... I'm not quite the same person, myself..."

"About the time, and the interests... I know. I realized that, honest to God. Too many times, I wasn't thinking about what you wanted, what you needed, what you would like to do. And... well, I know that we get physical a good bit, or... we used to, I mean... and I would make that... it was mostly about me. Good for me, that is. The, uh..."

I smirked. "The sex?"

He squirmed, disarmed by my unexpected candor. "Yeah. That. I mean, shit, we really only have one shared interest, right, and even that's something that was pretty one-sided as far as... the satisfaction bit of it, I guess. And that takes us to that night, right? That finally boils over, and we get... what happened... and it nearly splits us up."

"Well... it didn't. That's something."

He leaned forward, putting his fork down and focusing on me. "Maybe it should have, though. Point is, I want to do better. I gotta do better, if I want to be a good boyfriend to you. And that means with everything. Listening to you, spending more time with you, taking an interest in what you like... and... and making sure your... needs... are being taken care of."

I felt a little surge of unbidden excitement, from his honesty, his vulnerability in that moment. Could he really be so sincere, so contrite? So willing to please - and not just surface-level stuff, but actually, really willing to put me first? This whole conversation was pretty unexpected - there was more emotion and humility in the last ten minutes than we'd had in the year-plus that we'd been together. "... Derek, that's..."

He took my hand again, looking into my eyes. "I'm serious, Kat. I'm done being that worthless guy that you just put up with. All his nonsense, all his bullshit. I'm going to be better, I have to be better, for your sake. I... I think..."

He stopped for a moment, the specter of the words on his lips, and I felt a strangle prickle on my neck, a mix of fear and uncertainty and just a hint of... was it longing, was it something more than that? Please don't say it, don't... don't tell me that you love me, don't be so... so impossibly stupid, don't make this harder than it needs to be...

I gave him another squeeze, leaning forward to cut him off before the words could come out. "Thank you, Derek. It means a lot to me, all that. And... maybe we can see how to start down that road. Being more honest. More... attentive..."

I felt that other part of me begin to stir, a low rumble in my stomach and my heart and down below my waist, and I moved my hand in his, giving his wrist a soft, fluttering touch. That wasn't me - at least, it wasn't something I'd meant to do, not consciously - but I did it all the same. I looked up at him again, my eyes heavier, a low, heady warmth beginning to spark deep in my chest.

Arousal. Just a hint of it for now, but there all the same, like a smoldering orange coal at the heart of a pile of ashes, just waiting for something to fan it into a crackling flame, catching the kindling and turning into something more.

He stopped for a second, looking right back at me, almost frozen in place. Did he feel it, too? His mouth opened slightly, like he was on the verge of saying something, and I felt my smile turn into a knowing grin.

"We can even start doing that tonight... if you're interested."

"I... really? You made it sound like you - like we - weren't going to be doing that for a little while."

My grin turned into a smirk as I narrowed my eyes, feeling... something, feeling that New Kat part of me taking over again. "And it already has been a while, hasn't it? Just about three months, right?"

He hesitated, his eyes darting up and down my figure, from my eyes to my chest and back again. "You're... you're really serious?"

"Well, we should probably finish up here, first," I smiled. "Always get your money's worth for a dinner at Vittorio's. But maybe we... skip going to the movies, like you had suggested, and go back to my place."

"We... yeah." He cracked a slight smile, too, and I knew it; he was hooked. "Yeah, let's... let's do that. After we're done here."

We turned back to our dishes, looking up at each other from time to time, grinning like we were in on some secret. I felt butterflies in my stomach the whole time I ate, a growing sense of anticipation - of accomplishment. I knew it wouldn't be that hard to get him on board. I mean, he was still Derek, after all, and like he'd said, we really only bonded over one particular activity, one interest we had in common: sex, pure and simple.

I hadn't been expecting him to bare his soul like that, though. That put a bit of a damper on things, even if it only lasted a minute. More than anything, it set a precedent, a benchmark for honesty that I would soon have to live up to - in the next hour or so, in all likelihood. On one hand, I'd set the stage for exactly what I wanted, but on the other, getting it meant paying the price I'd been half-dreading, half-anticipating.

The sun finally disappeared beyond the mountains, throwing the lake and the town into the deep shadows of night, the golden ripples on the water replaced by the soft glow of streetlights and pinpricks of starlight. We finished, paid the check, and walked out to the car. This time, instead of us being an arm's length apart, we now walked side-by-side, almost bumping up against each other. I felt a thrill go up and down my spine each time the bare skin of my arms brushed against his shirt, a prelude to how the rest of our evening promised to play out.

We climbed into his car and started on our way back home, both of us stealing glances at each other as we went. After a minute of quiet, I slowly shifted my hand over, reaching across the center console, and wordlessly brushed over his right leg, looking him in the eye all the while. He stole another look in my direction, his eyes darting from the road for a second, and shifted in his seat - backwards slightly, opening himself up a bit more. I grinned at the movement. He wanted it, all right.

I lifted my hand higher, moving towards his waist, and undid his belt without much trouble. A few seconds later, I'd unbuttoned and unzipped his slacks enough to give me access to his boxers. Without a word or a moment's hesitation, I slipped my hand under the waistband... and there it was, already growing hard before I even touched it.

I'd almost forgotten how it felt to touch a cock that wasn't mine; the stiffness, the heat, the almost-imperceptible pulse of blood along its length as he grew more and more aroused. Even though he was smaller than I was - a fact I'd thought about more than once these past few days, as I planned the finer details of how I would approach this very moment - at almost six inches, he was still big enough to wrap my hand around and begin kneading, tugging, and rubbing, all along the length and over the sensitive head. That was an interesting advantage of my new anatomy: now that I had one of my own, I knew exactly how it felt and what was best.

He gave a short grunt as I ran my palm up and down over him inside his boxers. I shifted closer, leaning slightly and propping myself up on my other arm, but not before I discreetly put my purse over my own lap. I wasn't feeling it yet, but I knew that there was a chance that I could start stiffening up myself at any second. That warm tingle in my waist was getting stronger, the warmth starting to spread, and soon there would be two hard cocks in this car.

Derek noticed me adjusting, moving closer to him, and glanced at me. "Do you wanna pull over?"

I giggled, trying my best to sound sexy as I did it. "No, I'm just making sure you're ready for when we get back to my place." I leaned in closer, just a few inches from his ear, and gave an especially powerful squeeze around the base of his cock as I lowered my voice. "I don't want you to cum already and ruin the night. We're going to take our time, make sure that we both have our needs met, right? Just like you promised..."

There was just a hint of authority, of dominion, in my words, and I finally felt the front of my panties tighten as I gave him a little peck on the cheek and leaned back into my chair again, my left hand still down his pants. That was what was really working for me these days: a little power play, a bit of a dominant-submissive dynamic. I guess there had been something like that in our previous encounters, as shallow as they were. We used each other to get off, to scratch that itch, and most of the time he got his end of the deal at the expense of mine.

But I'd really been introduced to the finer points of that dynamic as I explored more of my bargain with Becky. We'd usually play each one out the same way, unintentionally mirroring our first encounter in the locker room; she acted the part of spoiled brat as I ate her out, usually firing off insults and commands, until she'd spasmed and screamed her way through a half-dozen orgasms and no longer had the strength to say much of anything. Then it was my turn, fucking her senseless, lifting and twisting and spreading her open like she was a rag doll, calling her my blonde bitch, my little cum-slut, still working through all that pent-up aggression from our high-school days when she had all the power. In the end, we were both a panting, sweaty mess, a tangle of limbs and breasts and strands of sticky white, but along the way, we both got to play the part of dom and sub, mistress and servant.

It probably wasn't the healthiest way to work through that sort of emotional baggage, but it was a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy, and usually ended with me pumping three or four loads into a tight pussy. You couldn't get that in some stuffy psychiatrist's office, I reasoned.

I kept the pressure on as Derek kept driving, and soon we were pulling back into my driveway. Mom's car was there, but Aunt Gwen's BMW was gone. It was only eight o'clock just now, and all the lights were out, so it stood to reason that they were both out, taking Gwen's ride to their destination - I tried to remember where they had said they'd be. A friend's house, that was it. A box of wine and a movie, gal's night.

I finally pulled my hand out from Derek's pants, and he groaned as I released him after the five-plus minutes of stimulation. I grinned again, relishing this newfound command over him, however minimal or temporary it might be. I carefully straightened up, keeping my purse between my legs, and opened the car door.

"Take a moment and get yourself collected. I'll head inside and make sure we're alone, just to be sure."

"Okay," he mumbled shakily, still coming down from that rush of arousal as I slid out of the car.

A few seconds later, I'd stepped up onto our porch, the sleek, soft fabric inside my dress brushing up against my panties, the light pressure teasing my cock as I climbed the three steps and unlocked the door. Sure enough, it was dark inside, and empty. Just us, like Aunt Gwen had said. Good.

I turned on the lights to their dimmest setting, giving me just enough to see by, and stepped over the to fridge to grab a half-empty bottle of wine. One final touch to seal the deal, I thought as I took two glasses down from the cabinet and turned to the center island to pour. Sure, we were too young to order drinks out, but that hadn't stopped us - or anyone else - at the Gap Party, and didn't keep me from having a glass every now and then.

There was a gentle, almost tentative knock before Derek finally stepped inside to join me. I smiled at him over the twin glasses as he closed the door behind himself.

"Care for a drink before we head upstairs?"

"Sure... if we're quick about it." He walked to the other side of the island as I slid one over to him.

"We'll skip the toast, then," I grinned, raising my glass. The subtle aroma sent another tingle through me, and I let the velvet-smooth texture linger on my lips for a moment before I drank. A sweet, pleasant flavor blossomed across my tongue and I took a deep sip, hoping it might help steel me for the difficult - or perhaps surprisingly straightforward? - task ahead of me.

Derek knocked his entire glass back in a single swig, clearly less patient than I was now that I'd gotten him excited, and looked at me in a way that said let's not waste any more time. I smiled again, took one last sip, and left the half-empty glass on the island before walking around to his side.

"Let's head up, then," I almost-whispered, not stopping as I passed him but instead gently brushing my hand along his arm.

He didn't answer, but followed just a few paces behind. I kicked my heels off at the bottom of the stairs and began to climb, making sure to give my hips just a bit more sway than usual as I did, knowing that his eyes were probably glued to them as he came up behind me. I reached the top of the steps and turned, facing him as I shouldered my bedroom door open, and took his hand again to lead him inside.

He stepped closer, narrowing the gap between us, and looked into my eyes. I felt my heart catch in my throat, another low throb between my eyes, and the rising heat between both of us as I slowly backed up and put my hands on his chest, turning us both so that as we cross the room, our positions were reversed. A few seconds later, I gently, slowly pushed him back so that he was standing against the end of my bed. Another push got him to sit down, and I stood there in front of him, my hands lingering for a moment on his chest before drifting back over to rest on my own figure.

I didn't say a word, just kept eye contact, as I shifted my shoulders forward. The backless, sleeveless dress slid off either side, falling forward until it reached my hips, and I stood there with my bra exposed. He squirmed again, and I could see this pants, still unbuckled and unzipped from my teasing ministrations in the car, tighten even more as he came to full attention in his boxers. I grinned and shook my head to make my curly, wavy hair fall down over the front of my shoulders before I stepped forward again.

Gently, cautiously, I climbed up onto the bed, the hem of the dress riding up slightly as I spread my knees and straddled his legs. I had to be sure to keep far enough away from him so that he couldn't feel me - my own hardness, though not as far along as his, would still be noticeable - but close enough that I could lean in and...

I closed my eyes as my head tilted forward and our lips met. I instantly, subconsciously, felt how they were a bit rougher than Del's and Becky's, unable to help myself from making that comparison. Before this summer, his had been the only ones I'd ever felt; now, the list had tripled, and the odds of it growing exponentially were a very real possibility as I was looking at more and more women - from fellow classmates at Penrose, to random strangers on the street, to Jess's beautiful, smiling, laughing, so-close-yet-so-far lips - with that small, lingering pang of hunger in the pit of my stomach, that hint of lust that crept in without warning at any time of day, the ten-second fantasy that maybe I could meet someone's eyes, that we could say a hundred things with just a single, smoldering look, and then we could retreat to some private place and... and...

I felt myself pushing hard against Derek's mouth, my hands instinctively traveling up and down his body, running through his hair, and as he moaned back into me, I felt his own hands slide up my legs, across my hips, and linger there on my ass, grabbing, squeezing, pinching, gripping with an unbelievable want, a primal need to feel that supple flesh, grabbing hard enough to make me wince with just the slightest hint of delicious, lust-tinted pain. I had to tense myself to keep from being pulled closer as he tried to push me into him, our hips coming dangerously close. I could feel him underneath me, that rigid bulge, a ridge of hardness pressing against my inner thigh, and wondered if maybe he could feel just a hint of my own erection through my dress and panties.

If he did, he wasn't showing any signs of it. His hands continued, leaving my rear and traveling higher, slipping back around to my front. There was a ticklish sensation as he drifted across my sides and to my stomach, filled with butterflies, and finally he brought them under by breasts, taking one in each hand, lifting them up from their perch in my bra.

I broke away from the kiss, turning to whisper in his ear, my eyes still closed. "Do you want to see them?"

He mumbled into my neck in approval, giving me another kiss there, before I leaned back again, opening my eyes. He shifted back as well, propping himself up on his elbows. I gazed down at him through my half-closed eyes as I reached behind myself with one hand, feeling for the barely-there clasp across my back. I took it between my thumb and forefinger, gave it a pinch, and felt the light pressure fade. Derek felt it, too, and lifted his hands for just a moment as the black-lace lingerie fell away, my other hand helping the shoulder straps slip down my arms and finally tossing the garnet to the side.

"Holy shit... Kat, they're... amazing."

I leaned closer again with a playful smirk. "I'm glad you like them."

He reached back up again, and I felt the warmth of his hands against my skin, and I hummed as a tingling sensation electrified every nerve in my chest, radiating out in waves of low, sparkling pleasure. I felt my nipples harden and goosebumps prickle up around them as if I'd been caught in a sudden cold breeze, and I closed my eyes again.

And then something unexpected: another wet kiss, this time on one of those pert nipples, and I moaned in surprise and excitement. I realized that despite my dalliances with Becky and Del, no one had suckled my new breasts before. Come to think of it, no one had ever done that before, and this was Derek's first sign of any interest in them. Before, they were so small as to be little more than perky, petite lumps, something he might tease and squeeze for a moment during the warmup, but he'd never done this before.

He hummed into the nipple in his mouth, the low vibrations tickling the sensitive flesh, and lightly bit down on it, making me squeak in equal parts pleasure and pain. His tongue lapped around, over, up and down, and I opened my eyes to look down at him, his sandy brown hair below my chin, his nose nuzzled up against me, eyes closed, the warm, steady sensation of his breathing against my exposed skin. It felt so good, and a strange hint of... something I couldn't quite place, something that was a strange mix of arousal and maternalism, washed over me for a second, and I gently put one of my hands behind his head, lightly pushing him forward, silently urging him to take more, to keep going. His other hand drifted across the opposite breast and began slowly, firmly kneading it between his fingers, bringing that nipple to a low, aching attention as powerful as the one in his mouth.

Another rush of blood flooded into my waist, and I throbbed heavily, growing ever harder, getting closer to reaching my full length. The dress tightened even more around my hips, the panties struggling as they threatened to slip away from their perilous perch on my tip.

After a while, I released my grip and gently pushed him away. He held the nipple firmly in his mouth for another second before releasing it, and it felt back into place with an erotic, heavy bounce. I took his chin in one hand and tilted him back for another kiss, deeper and longer than the last, our tongues dueling each other as I leaned into him again, my naked breasts tickled and teased by the cool fabric of his shirt.

We broke away from that embrace a minute later and I pushed him back again, looking into his eyes as I slowly shifted, climbing down from his lap and settling down again at the end of the bed. I lowered myself to my knees and reached up, grabbing the waistband of his pants. He lifted himself ever so slightly, helping me as I tugged downwards. The slacks and boxers came down as one, and there he was.

Derek had been my first and only boyfriend, and so I didn't have much personal experience or exposure with the male anatomy before we'd started hooking up. He'd been the only one to fuck me, and so I didn't have anything to compare him to - until recently. He was somewhere just shy of six inches in length, about an inch and a half in diameter, and circumcised. He shaved regularly, keeping a coarse stubble over his skin, and his balls hung lower and looser than my own - which only made sense, I guess, since mine were still pretty new and hadn't been hanging around as long, no pun intended. They were also, I noticed as I looked him over, a bit smaller than mine. That was something I hadn't really thought about before recent events: I knew guys all had different-sized dicks, but I'd assumed that most balls were all about the same. My own anatomy, coupled with the veritable library of porn I'd been consuming lately, both live-action and hentai, had taught me otherwise, that there was some variation there as well. Maybe mine were bigger because I could cum three or four times in just one sexual encounter, or maybe vice versa...

I leaned forward on my knees, pulling the boxers and pants down around Derek's ankles and spreading his legs apart to get closer. He twitched and throbbed, looking down at me past the aching member, and I took it in one hand, gently rubbing along its length and making Derek murmur in appreciation. Soon the rubbing turned into tugging, my hand wrapped around it, and my other hand moved to tease his balls, using the same two-handed technique that the busty redheaded nurse, Emeline, had employed mere days after my transformation. I alternated my touches, first putting more pressure on his cock, then gently squeezing and tugging his balls, then returning to the warm, hard shaft.

Derek moaned and grunted, with the occasional mumbled word of encouragement, and when I was sure he was at full hardness, I took my hands away, brushing my hair back over my shoulders as I leaned in closer, putting one hand on either knee and moving down, down...

I pursed my lips and gave a tiny kiss to the hot, half-soft muscles on the tip of his cock, making him groan again at the minute touch. I'd given him blowjobs before, just like I'd told Del, but never with any real skill. The objective had always been to get him off, pure and simple. Anything else was just for show. But now I knew from firsthand experience how good it could really be if someone took their time, did the right things, hit the right spots. Del had shown me those tricks during our first time together, just as Emeline had inadvertently taught me how to give the best handjobs. I was getting quite the education from my newfound body, my unlocked needs and desires, and the people who were helping me fulfill them.

I kept giving those little kisses, each one lasting longer, placing a few on the sides, one or two underneath the head on that sensitive tendon. I turned my attention to the shaft, kissing it as I went up one side and down the other, then dragging my tongue along its length, connecting those faint red imprints from my lipstick with a thin wet trail.

The time came for the next step, and with one last kiss to the tip, I looked up at Derek, keeping eye contact, and gently lowered my mouth around him. He was warm and hard and tasted slightly musky, with just a hint of sweat, and I slowly took more and more of him until I brushed my nose up against his waist, reaching the base. Once I'd learned how to do it the first time, I'd never struggled to take his entire cock; he just wasn't large enough to be any trouble. Regardless, I pressed myself further into him, trying to push him down my throat as far as I could, and held it for a moment before slowly pulling back again, all the way to the tip. I held that in my mouth, just between my lips, and then gently slid back down the length.

Each time, I went just a little faster, not lingering as long at the base, and soon I had established a decent rhythm. Derek began to shift and pump ever so slightly underneath me, his hips rocking in a counterpoint to my head. We weren't going fast enough to make him cum right away, no; he was holding back, letting me take the lead. For once, he was deferring to me and the pace I wanted to set. Good. I wanted this to last as long as it could, and I especially didn't want him to get off before I showed him my new body in its entirety.

I kept bobbing up and down for a few minutes, occasionally lingering near the base and pretending to struggle. Now and then, I gagged, or made a sound as if I actually were gagging, and would pull off for a few seconds with an exaggerated gasp. Each time, Derek would moan and grunt, my charade working its magic. I almost felt bad about it, but... if it helped him feel good, what was the harm?

At the same time as I was throating him, one of my hands slipped away from his knee and slowly, carefully, lifted the hem of my dress. Through the thin layer of the cotton panties, I wrapped my fingers around my own hard cock, now aroused beyond the point of no return, and gingerly worked the sensitive tip just as I had with Derek's. I felt that pit in my stomach filling, bubbling up with a deep, dangerous heat as I dropped the last bit of caution and let the first wave of lust sweep over me. Between the stimulation of my hand along my shaft and the taste and feel of Derek's own rigid member in my warm, wet mouth, that tide of arousal felt better than most, almost mirroring the twin sensations that Del had given me two days ago.

From here on out, I'd have to try multitasking more often; the combined actions were scratching that shameful, sexy itch inside me, the part that always felt best when I gave myself over to my desires, when New Kat was the dominant force in my persona, when I transformed from a mild-mannered college girl into a sex fiend craving a warm, sensitive, wet pussy to delve my tongue, fingers, and cock into. Now I could add sucking on someone else's cock to that list, too; it was almost as arousing as the rest, especially when I was stroking my own at the same time. I'd been ambivalent about blowing Derek before tonight - it was just another task to be done solely for his enjoyment - but now I knew it could be paired with my own pleasure, and made more potent for both of us in the long run.

I felt a small bead of dampness leak between my fingers as the pre-cum bubbled out of me. I was ready; no turning back. I looked up from the task between my lips and back into Derek's eyes, then slowly pulled off of him, revealing each inch with measured deliberation, until only the tip remained. I gave it one last suck, pulling on it slightly, and let it pop out from my mouth.

Derek sighed, leaning back and dropping from his elbows, his breathing shallow. "Fuck, Kat, you're... that was... oh fuck..."

I giggled slightly, amused by his lack of focus after such an expert handling. It was indeed the best I'd given him so far in our relationship - and more importantly, I'd known just how far to take it before he lost control. Instead of cumming already and then drifting into a post-coitus stupor, leaving me to my own disappointed desires as usual, I kept him waiting on the cusp of release, his cock still throbbing and neglected as he panted and squirmed on my sheets, waiting for me to finish him.

I took my hand from my crotch, letting the dress hem - and the top half, which had folded down in front of me as I revealed my chest - cover what it could of my arousal. It stuck out lewdly, tenting the garment in front of me, but from Derek's perspective on the bed, it looked like just another fold in the fabric.

I stepped back from the bed, curling a finger at him seductively. "Sit up for me. I have something to show you."

He did as I asked, shifting laboriously into a sitting position, moving back so that he was leaning against my headboard.

"Take it all off," I commanded, my voice sultry-soft but firm, like a velvet rug on a marble floor, smooth and supple, but unyielding underneath. "I want to see all of you."

Again, he obeyed, wordlessly kicking off the pants and boxers gathered around his ankles, pulling off his socks and shoes, and racing to unbutton his shirt. He pulled the sleeves away and threw the last of his clothes to the side, finally naked before me. Only then did he speak. "Now... now you. Show me."

This was it. The moment of truth. For a single second, I felt a pang of fear, of doubt, and a lump caught in my throat. Was I ready? Was he ready? Everything was about to change.

I swallowed and stepped back up to the bed. "Derek... you need to know something. Something... important... before we go any further."

He paused for a moment, his uneven breathing the only sound in the room. "I... sure. Sure. Tell me."

I took a deep breath. That pang of uncertainly shot up again - that last little bit of me that wanted to just go back to the way things were, the same small, panicked voice that had been so loud in those first few weeks but had been getting quieter and further away recently. Just as soon as that voice echoed through me, a second one took its place. New Kat.

No. He needs to know. He's a part of this now. He always was, whether we liked it or not.

But... if we... no, we could just finish up here, I'd get him off, and we can keep on -

Don't deny it. Don't deny us. Who we are. Who you are.

"Kat? Babe?"

I had closed my eyes without knowing it, and opened them again to see him, waiting and wanting on my bed, a hint of his own uncertainty showing on his face.

"What is it, Kat? What did you want to tell me?"

The two voices kept fighting, trying to drown each other out, trying to control my motions, my emotions. I felt - I heard - my heart beating in my chest, in my ears, a tingling in my fingers and toes, along the length of my hardness, and I winced, closing my eyes tightly shut and scrunching up my expression as I fought against myself, as my fingers wrapped around my waist, taking the rest of the dress from my hips, and I gave them a shove. I felt the shimmer of silk falling away, sliding down my legs and over the veneer of my stockings, I felt the cool air against my skin - against the heat of my aching, pulsing cock - as the panties dropped, and I sprang mercifully free, finally and totally exposed.

Silence.

Pure fucking silence, as if everything in the entire world had suddenly blinked out of existence. My own beating heart, racing just seconds ago, seemed to have stopped for all the more noise it made now. I couldn't even hear my own breathing. With my eyes closed, the absence of... of anything, of everything, was near-absolute, the only certainty the fuzzy rug under my stocking feet, the hardwood floor under it. Other than that, I might as well have been floating in a void, the only thing in all the universe.

And then...

"Kat..."

I slowly opened my eyes.