Calming yourself, you try to make an objective assessment of your new body. A slow, deep breath allows you to take in your full bust. The angle is unfamiliar, as you try to guess your size. You're definitely well-above average, part of you hopes that's just an illusion. But the heft and awkwardness tells you that you are 'blessed'. With a sighing huff, you consider that there might be such a thing, as 'too much'.
As you take it all in, your skirt creaks in protest. Reaching down, you confirm that you've a bare midriff. That and what feels like claws on the tips of your fingers. The garish pink talons are pretty, but feel like a crippling hazard to using your hands for anything subtle, or useful.
"Che tette, Che culo!"
As you caress your ripe curves, even your observation sounds like a sultry, sensual purring invitation. The Italian language of love. Gasping and blushing, you realise...
You'll be on the receiving end of that love making!?! It's a thrilling, and terrifying prospect. Your mind races, picturing yourself on the other end of your own experiences. It's disturbing, and fascinating. Your hopes and requests taking on a new light. Your body warms at the very idea. Oddly getting excited, at the thought of your former cock!
Blushing deeper red, you know this body is heterosexual. That what was familiar and dull before, is seductive and compelling. That your voluptuous body is made to tease and please. Part of you tries to cling to the idea of being sexual and sexy. But, it doesn't stick. Those full curves are made to appeal. That juicy rump is an effort to keep firm, and that bust, a touch too full for your new tastes.
Copyright 2000 - 2025 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.39 seconds at 3:44am on Nov 23, 2025 via server WEBX1.