You ignore your new body... it's hardly new anyways.
You get up, wobbling and shaking violently and pick up your, Aelita's iphone from the bed.
You turn the phone on and try to guess her passcode, to no avail (not her birthday or the day we got together), but in a way that was more surreal than anything I had imagined, rubbing of the drool from Aelita's left thumb (she was left handed) and placing it on the home button opened the phone up.
Instantly visible was the messenger app, where she had received two messages from Becky and Ruby asking how she was.
You reassure them that you are fine and ask them if they are free to come over.
On both instances each girl almost instantly replied to say yes. Samuel's friends would never answer him so promptly. You puff out your immensely massive chest with pride at the scenario you had engineered.
You had the option of dressing up, but you were worried that Samuel's unconscious body on the couch might not give your guests a good impression.
On the other hand, you would easily have the opportunity to rewrite their memories and play with their bodies later, so you might as well enjoy Aelita's while you could.
You look around to see a full length mirror just in front of you.
Reeling from the effort, the weight displacement from your new chest and your own excitement, you fall on top of the mirror, which digs into your forehead and short fringe.
You stumble your way back onto Aelita's bed, having straightened the mirror appropriately to face you. You are aware of how your new breasts, despite the tight bra suppressing and supporting their magnitude, jiggle almost uncontrollably as you move. You had never truly appreciated their size as much as you were now being forced to. You had never imagined it would come to this, sitting on Aelita's bed, her legs splayed apart.
The attention of your hand, your attention, turns to the brilliant locks of hair resting on your shoulders and trailing down your back.
You manipulate a lock with dexterous spider-like fingers across your nose and into her mouth. As you suck on it gently, the smell of your hair, the berry shampoo and conditioner she used, wafted into your body.
You spit the hair out, confused.
You consider your options: In the absence of her 'sexy' skirt and tank tops, you could appreciate her form without her wardrobe in your way. You could jiggle and play with her boobs and make her tits harder. You could spank her ass in front of the mirror. You could, as your right hand seemed to encourage, pull her panties down, bare her waist and...
But as you drew focus towards your other hand, resting on your face, you notice the moody frown on her face and realise how you missed her; how empty it felt - her body without the bubbly, energetic personality behind it.
You pull one of her signature grins to the mirror but it feels off...
You look at her skinny, pale white legs: calves, knees, thighs and the pink panties, which were just short of being translucent enough to see her...
As both hands move to it. you feel queasy, sick. You can't bring yourself to admire her slim figure and her visible ribcage, You get up off the bed, almost disgusted, but stop, looking into her deep, auburn eyes. You follow your bony arms and there lack of muscles down to where they rested, on each hip. Your hips in fact, as if with a mind of their own, swing from side to side, in a pendulum motion. Your legs were apart a little more than shoulder length and support your entire body, which feels weightless: no fat or muscle... And no penis...
You had never really understood its presence, how it adapted to your emotions, but now you couldn't comprehend how much it was to you.
It was like dropping a huge burden. You could freely rock your hips, look wherever on Aelita's sexy body without being sprung. You could feel the hole there and do a small dance to celebrate your infinitely heightened agility with your body and then... suddenly... without warning.
You lean into the mirror and press your large tongue against its cold surface. You open your eyes and understand snogging Aelita from this perspective could never be as good as the real thing.
You sigh from these realisations, a feminine sigh which splutters from your new voice. You laugh, but your giggle isn't as lively as hers
You receive another text: Be there in a tick - Beck
This likely means you have less than a minute before Becky arrives.
You panic:
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