I love Saturday mornings because I don't have to rush off to an early lecture, and I can leisurely spend some me-time alone. My Saturday morning wardrobe constitutes a pair of baggy pajama bottoms and a loose-fitting sleeveless tank top.
In my haste to complete the membership application for Luxury Inc last night, I'd forgotten to shower, and when I slipped from under my covers, the aroma of stale sex wafted from my loins. I stripped my bed and dropped the laundry basket in front of my washing machine. "Whew, you need a shower," I said to myself as the effect of my smelly body hit me full force.
I was already naked, and as I tied my hair up, I looked myself over in the vanity mirror. I've always felt my tits were perfect, but now I wondered what they'd look like if they were a D cup. Having that extra flesh certainly would give a man deeper cleavage to slide his hard cock through. But I've seen enough women who've had implant surgery, and no matter how good the surgeon is, there is still the unsightly telltale incision scar that is impossible to hide. I lifted my tits high on my chest, knowing that I'd not go that route. I ran my fingers over my belly and onto my pubic mound. I discovered a bit of stubble, and instead of a quick shower, I decided to have a relaxing warm bubble bath so I could shave my loins, legs, and armpits. I started the bath, added my favorite lavender bubble mix, and walked to the kitchen to fix myself a cup of tea as the tub filled.
There is something special about pampering yourself. As I slipped into the warm bath, I could feel the tension in my muscles and the anxiety about opening a new chapter in my sexual transformation wash away. Most times, when I take a relaxing soak, my fingers explore, and I enjoy a self-induced orgasm or two, but today I was on a mission. I carefully shaved my legs and armpits, ensuring my pubic mound was silky smooth, and then relaxed in the froth of bubbles while I finished my tea.
Stepping from the tub, I patted myself dry, released my long jet-black hair, and then applied a soothing coat of lavender-scented body lotion everywhere I could reach. I felt better and smelled of lavender rather than stale sex.
I'd have time to dress, drive across town and drop off my application before noon. Not expecting to run into Hess, Billy, or Mark, I decided to wear dark blue tailored pants and a light blue silk blouse. Under my slacks, I wore a black satin thong, but since I didn't expect to run into anyone who knew me, I went braless. My four-inch black stilettos set off the look perfectly, the bottom hem of my slacks barely touching the top of my heels. After applying a pale shade of pink lip gloss, I grabbed the application, stuffed it in my purse, and headed out the door.
Traffic was abnormally heavy for a Saturday morning, and I arrived at Sensual Productions office at a quarter of twelve. Since I was just dropping off the paperwork, I decided to park in the loading zone right outside the front door.
Gloria was sitting at her desk, and when I pushed the door open, she looked up from her laptop, smiled, and said, "Ms. Walker, nice to see you again."
"I wasn't sure the office would be open today," I remarked as I strolled across the expansive lobby to her station.
"I'm the last one here, and I'm outta here at noon," Gloria replied.
"I won't keep you; I just wanted to drop this off," I said as I pulled the membership packet from my purse and unfolded it.
Gloria took the papers and then looked up at me before saying, "So you've decided not to go the modeling route?"
"Yes," I answered without going into any details about why.
"I'll get this to Mr. Hess as soon as possible," she said.
"Thanks, Gloria," I answered, figuring Hess wouldn't see it before Monday.
"I hope to see you again sometime, Ms. Walker," Gloria remarked.
"Perhaps," I answered.
"I visit the Villa occasionally," Gloria admitted.
"Then we very well may run into each other again," I answered just before turning and briskly walking to the door.
It was a bright sunny early spring day, and I had the entire afternoon to enjoy some alone time. So I decided to stop downtown and perhaps do a little shopping, heading for Newbury Street in downtown Boston. I grabbed a parking space, and after feeding the meter with enough quarters for two hours, I began a leisurely stroll on the shady side. It wasn't long before the lack of sunshine, and the light breeze caused my nipples to harden under my silk blouse.
It's funny how a pair of tiny bumps on a woman's blouse draws the attention of so many men. There was a time in my life when my erect nipples were hidden under a baggy sweater, but since my transformation, I've developed an exhibitionist flair and enjoy the looks I get from nearly every man. Until yesterday, I would flirt with the men I found attractive with one thought in mind, which one I could entice enough to have them ask me if I'd like to fuck. Going forward, I'd have an entirely new supply of potential lovers, men who, because of wealth, power, or being politically connected, would provide me with the rock-hard cocks I've become addicted to.
As I strolled along Newbury Street, I smiled politely at any man who looked my way, adding a little bounce to my step to cause my lovely tits to giggle seductively. I wasn't looking to get laid but saw no reason I couldn't flirt and have a little fun while I shopped. One handsome thirty-something man who'd had his eyes on me for perhaps a half-block smiled widely as we passed. He was a couple of inches taller than me, had perfectly styled dark hair and a sexy Saturday stubble of facial hair. His brilliant white teeth caught my eye when he smiled. Dressed in a tight-fitting black tee-shirt and jeans that hugged his hips as well as his loins. In the instant that we were close enough to speak, he said, "G-day," His voice reflecting the unmistakable Australian accent every Aussie has.
I could not reply, but he'd turned the tables on me with that one word, enticing me to wonder if he'd let me fuck him. I took a few more steps forward and then turned and walked to the display window of one of the hundreds of shops along Newbury Street. As I approached the window, I glanced toward the direction he had walked after greeting me. This sexy Aussie had stopped and turned to watch me as I moved along the sidewalk. I flipped my long jet-black hair over one shoulder, twisted at the waist without moving my feet, and flashed him a bright white smile.
My friendly smile was all the incentive he needed, and in the couple of seconds it took him to reach me, I turned and faced him fully, letting him gaze at my erect nipples.
"G-Day, Miss," he said, greeting me a second time.
I offered my hand, which he instantly accepted as I replied, "I love your accent."
He grinned and replied, "Does it show that much?"
"I'm afraid it does; what part of Australia are you from?" I asked.
"Born and raised in Sydney," he answered.
"I'm Genevieve," I offered.
"Call me Paul," he answered.
"Would you like a cappuccino, Genevieve?" he asked.
"Oh yes, please," I replied, knowing that we'd be able to sit while getting to know each other better.
"Right across the street," Paul said, pointing to the outdoor café on the sunny side of Newbury Street.
