I think he stopped fighting.
Did he forget? Did he grow tired
of struggling all the time? Those are
both possible for him, but I can’t ever forget.
I can’t ever let stop struggling.
It was just a stupid wish. We
both wished for the same thing, but we didn’t want this. Not in a million years would we want this We both wished we’d find true love. That we’d desire our lovers above all else
and that they’d desire us above all else.
We both felt it as soon as we opened our eyes. It chose us.
We were to be each other’s true loves.
We were to desire each other and we’d be desired by each other. Over the next week we found out how insidious
it all was. When we concentrated the
magic wouldn’t work. We could remain
friends. When we thought about anything
else though, it slowly changed me. Kyle’s
only change was to desire me. To love
me. I know how he felt there as I
experienced it toward him. I’d notice
how nice he was. How gentle. How protective. How strong.
But where Kyle remained physically the same, I was
changing. I was becoming thinner. My skin was becoming smoother. My body hair disappeared. My hair grew out longer. My waist grew slimmer while my hips widened
out. I was becoming a woman.
We fought it… but you can’t live your entire life thinking
only about NOT changing. Every
distraction brought us closer together.
When we went to the movies and enjoyed it, I ended up snuggled up next
to him. When we went to dinner and liked
how it tasted he’d end up feeding me desert.
Even when we grew dismayed and cried about what was happening he’d end
up holding my cheek to his shoulder as he comforted me.
We couldn’t even lose ourselves in inebriation. One afternoon I decided to just lose myself
at the end of a whisky bottle. I found out
later that I had gone to the salon and made myself beautiful. Evidently when I came home I tried to throw
myself at Kyle. He did his best to fight
me off but when I sobered up I was laying on the couch with my head laying on his
lap. The lipstick marks told me how the
fight ended up. They were on his bare chest. They were on his cheeks. They were on his lips.
When Kyle got drunk the next day it was worse. When he passed out my desire for him grew by
leaps and bounds. I left the apartment
not knowing if I could stop myself from attacking his sleeping body, but I
found myself at a boutique. The sales
girl helped me find new clothes that my boyfriend would like. Each bra I tried on fit better and better as
my breasts seemed to grow into them.
Each pair of panties I tried on fit better and better as my penis shrunk
under them. I rushed back home in my
sexy new lingerie and dress not wanting these changes to continue, but when I
got there Kyle was awake. And he liked
what he saw. I tried to hold him off,
but Kyle’s drunken desires were strong.
I could barely struggle as he removed my dress. He silenced my protests with long hot passionate
kisses. By the time he pressed down on
my shoulders I willingly knelt before him and left far more intimate lipstick marks
on my man.
It’s hard to tell if we’ve been intimate since that
night. You see, that’s the night the
dreams started. Consciously we avoided
touching each other in that way but our unconscious minds bring us fervently
together every night. We always went to
bed in our own rooms, but we often wake up in the same bed. Some nights he comes to me. Most nights I go to him. And for a brief moment each morning before
the light of day reminds me of what’s happening…. I love being next to my
man.
We thought the vacation would help. Get out of our normal routines that kept leading
us into each other’s arms. But every
time someone mentions that we’re a cute or loving couple we both feel that
tingle of desire. Lying here on this
beach… lying on top of Kyle, I want to keep fighting. I want to be the old me, but maybe Kyle is
right. Maybe the struggle isn’t worth
it. I can hear his heart and every beat
sings of his love for me. I can feel my
own heart and every beat sings of my love for him. If I close my eyes will I forget? Can I let myself forget?
source: Google Images
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