he was sitting next to Devon. It was more likely that they remembered my show in the gazebo.
“How could we both be right?” I asked Brenda.
“We were,” Brenda said. “I can tell already, this is good for you. You needed to get in touch with your feminine side. You’ll be a better person because of it.”
I laughed so hard, I snorted like a piggy—so much for being feminine. “Yeah, right,” I said. Sure, I was growing comfortable in this body, but it wasn’t like I was becoming all-estrogen-y. I didn’t have a single feminine impulse. Nevertheless, I was developing a sensitivity to the heat of men’s stares. I nodded towards the wedding guests out in front of our dais. "Why are they all looking at us?" I asked. "I mean looking at you and me, and not Chet and Lisa?"
Brenda placed a hand on mine and smiled. "Cross your legs, dear. You're flashing your bald pussy at two hundred strangers."
I crossed my legs. Once again, my entire body felt beet red.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Each of the ushers asked me to dance, and I did. None of them danced as well as Devon, but I didn’t say no to any of them. That was the general plan, after all. Brenda and Cassie seemed to relish my predicament, but Donna seemed indifferent to it, or maybe even a bit put off. The waiters started serving salads, and my pulse raced. I knew the main course wouldn't be far behind, and after that I was supposed to meet Devon in the Bride’s Chamber.
Brenda kept ordering me G&Ts, and in my nervousness, I kept drinking them. I was feeling no pain by the time they were collecting the salad plates. Once the toasts and dances with daddy were done, Lisa had loosened up her Nazi grip on us. We were able to kick off our heels and go barefoot on the dance floor, which I really enjoyed. Donna dragged me out when Celebration started playing, and I boogied my heart out. Dancing is easier as a woman—just move about and the jiggle of the body does the rest. And boy did I jiggle.
I must have flashed more men than I thought when I sat at the dais, or perhaps they had spotted the dirt on my knees, or Chet was a real yenta, or my gazebo show was quite memorable, but whatever the cause, I was extremely popular on the dance floor. All that attention raised my body temp, for sure.
Art, the groomsman, was probably the most aggressive. His hands settled on my hips as he danced behind me and he started pulling up the hem of my dress. I pressed back against him and pushed his hands down with my own. Lisa would kill me if my naked ass made an appearance at her wedding. When I felt Art's erection pressing against me through his tux, I darted away as quickly as I could and straight into Donna's arms. “Oh, hi,” I said. More than a little drunk, I kissed Donna and giggled. “I love you so much,” I said.
"Hmm," Donna replied as she released me, twirled about, and wriggled her tone ass against my hips. Donna pressed her athletic shoulders back against me, put a palm on my cheek, and turned her head, saying, "Drinking gin and juice, I see. Or I taste, rather."
"No," I said, running my hands up and down her streamlined contours. "Gin and tonic."
Donna spun about and kissed me harder this time—hard and aggressive, just how I liked it—her arms dangled over my shoulders. "No,” Donna said. “Gin and man-juice is what I taste. Slut." She stuck out her tongue and then kissed me again.
"You still love me though, right?" I asked, staring deeply into her eyes.
I couldn't believe it. I actually got Donna to blush!
"Truth be told," Donna said, "I hope you don't manage to bag all the ushers. Then you can stay this way, and be mine. You’d be my little bitch forever."
“Cassie said if I failed to sleep with all the ushers she’d change me back anyway so I would get arrested.”
“Forget Cassie,” Donna said. “She doesn’t call all the shots. If I want you to be my bitch,
“How could we both be right?” I asked Brenda.
“We were,” Brenda said. “I can tell already, this is good for you. You needed to get in touch with your feminine side. You’ll be a better person because of it.”
I laughed so hard, I snorted like a piggy—so much for being feminine. “Yeah, right,” I said. Sure, I was growing comfortable in this body, but it wasn’t like I was becoming all-estrogen-y. I didn’t have a single feminine impulse. Nevertheless, I was developing a sensitivity to the heat of men’s stares. I nodded towards the wedding guests out in front of our dais. "Why are they all looking at us?" I asked. "I mean looking at you and me, and not Chet and Lisa?"
Brenda placed a hand on mine and smiled. "Cross your legs, dear. You're flashing your bald pussy at two hundred strangers."
I crossed my legs. Once again, my entire body felt beet red.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Each of the ushers asked me to dance, and I did. None of them danced as well as Devon, but I didn’t say no to any of them. That was the general plan, after all. Brenda and Cassie seemed to relish my predicament, but Donna seemed indifferent to it, or maybe even a bit put off. The waiters started serving salads, and my pulse raced. I knew the main course wouldn't be far behind, and after that I was supposed to meet Devon in the Bride’s Chamber.
Brenda kept ordering me G&Ts, and in my nervousness, I kept drinking them. I was feeling no pain by the time they were collecting the salad plates. Once the toasts and dances with daddy were done, Lisa had loosened up her Nazi grip on us. We were able to kick off our heels and go barefoot on the dance floor, which I really enjoyed. Donna dragged me out when Celebration started playing, and I boogied my heart out. Dancing is easier as a woman—just move about and the jiggle of the body does the rest. And boy did I jiggle.
I must have flashed more men than I thought when I sat at the dais, or perhaps they had spotted the dirt on my knees, or Chet was a real yenta, or my gazebo show was quite memorable, but whatever the cause, I was extremely popular on the dance floor. All that attention raised my body temp, for sure.
Art, the groomsman, was probably the most aggressive. His hands settled on my hips as he danced behind me and he started pulling up the hem of my dress. I pressed back against him and pushed his hands down with my own. Lisa would kill me if my naked ass made an appearance at her wedding. When I felt Art's erection pressing against me through his tux, I darted away as quickly as I could and straight into Donna's arms. “Oh, hi,” I said. More than a little drunk, I kissed Donna and giggled. “I love you so much,” I said.
"Hmm," Donna replied as she released me, twirled about, and wriggled her tone ass against my hips. Donna pressed her athletic shoulders back against me, put a palm on my cheek, and turned her head, saying, "Drinking gin and juice, I see. Or I taste, rather."
"No," I said, running my hands up and down her streamlined contours. "Gin and tonic."
Donna spun about and kissed me harder this time—hard and aggressive, just how I liked it—her arms dangled over my shoulders. "No,” Donna said. “Gin and man-juice is what I taste. Slut." She stuck out her tongue and then kissed me again.
"You still love me though, right?" I asked, staring deeply into her eyes.
I couldn't believe it. I actually got Donna to blush!
"Truth be told," Donna said, "I hope you don't manage to bag all the ushers. Then you can stay this way, and be mine. You’d be my little bitch forever."
“Cassie said if I failed to sleep with all the ushers she’d change me back anyway so I would get arrested.”
“Forget Cassie,” Donna said. “She doesn’t call all the shots. If I want you to be my bitch,
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