The Stone Fixed It (Chapters 1-2)

Chapter 1

        Valerie pushed me back against the wall and leaned in to kiss me but stopped just an inch or so from my lips. Her warm, spearmint breath hit me with intoxicating force and I sucked it in deeply. Her luscious, thick, black hair brushed against my face. I drank in the scent of her freshly showered, floral-smelling dark brown skin. God, she was gorgeous. If only --

"Listen," she said, interrupting my enjoyment of her appearance and scent and taste. "If we're going to do this, we're really going to do this. Okay?"

"Okay," I said. My arms hung at my side. She had one hand on my shoulder and the other against the wall for balance. "I want to do this."

"I mean, we're doing this. For real. Like a real couple."

"Yeah," I said. 

"I'm a trans girl," she said. "I've still got my --"

"I know," I interrupted.

"Let me say it, Chris."

I nodded.

"I'm a girl. I look like a girl everywhere but in one place. I've still got my dick." Her breath tickled the stubble I wished I'd shaven clean above my lip. "You've got to be okay with that. You've got to be able to let me say it without the idea of it freaking you out."

"It's okay. I'm cool with that. I like you. I've always thought you're pretty."

She moved her hand from my shoulder and placed it on my growing erection. "I'm okay with yours. Are you okay with mine? I mean, really okay with it?"

"Sure," I said, nodding. 

"Then touch it. Touch my girl clitty."

I shifted my weight against the wall for balance and then touched her hip. Such a beautiful curve there from the combination of working out and hormone therapy. I moved it behind her to cup her ass. Again, lovely curves and just the right amount of fat to give her a cute figure. 

"You're not getting warmer," she said with a smile.

"I'm getting there."

She grabbed my hand and, using just enough force, moved it until my palm rested on her own slightly hard... well... clitty as she called it. I tried to fight it, but my fingers pulled away.

"I'm sorry," I said. 

"It's okay," she said. "It's a lot to ask. A lot of guys aren't ready for a girl like me. I mean they're fine making out and even having me go down on them, but they're not quite ready to accept, well, all of me, not completely."

"But I want to. It's just... I don't know."

"It's just you don't want to be gay. You're a guy. I'm a girl. So you're not gay, but as long as we both have dicks, you can't quite wrap your head around it. You believe I'm really a girl until you get there. It's not weird. I get it."

"I'm sorry, Valerie. I love you, and I want to be with you." I rested my head on her shoulder. "Like a real couple. I really do."

"I know."

She raised my head and kissed me deeply, open mouth, her tongue taking the dominant role. With one hand she gripped the back of my neck and pulled me toward her. With the other, she gently massaged my cock through my jeans. I responded in kind and couldn't help moaning a little into her mouth. 

"That's nice," I said when she broke off the kiss. 

"It is, but I don't think it will be enough."

Taking her hint, I lifted both hands to her breasts -- budding B-cups thanks to the hormones -- and kneaded them tenderly, careful to not focus on just her nipples, even knowing how sensitive she had told me they were now. This time, she was the one to make content little sounds that came out like quiet whimpers. 

"That's nice too," she said.

"I love your boobs," I said. "They're so perfect."

"More than a handful's a waste, you mean?"

"Hush. They're beautiful. Just like you."

"But not all of me?"

I stopped for a moment.

She looked at me sadly. 

"I'm trying. I really am."

"I know," she said. "You didn't have to stop."

"Sorry."

"You keep saying that."

I lifted her Tinker Bell t-shirt and her plain white bra to expose her small but beautiful breasts. 

"Nice," I said. 

"Glad you like them. They're costing me a little more each month. Not that I haven't thought about getting surgery to bump them up to C or D cups."

"Don't," I said. "I like them just the way they are."

"You're sweet. But wouldn't it be easier to deal with my, well, you know, if I had bigger boobs for you to play with? Guys like big boobs, don't they?"

"I'm not guys. I'm Chris. And you're not boobs, you're Valerie."

"Just like the Pussycat in the cartoon."

"Is that why you chose the name Valerie?"

She nodded. "That, and it was my Great Aunt's name."

"Oh."

"But I really like that old cartoon though."

We laughed. 

I pressed my lips to her right nipple and gave it a tender kiss.

"I like that," she said. 

I found that her hand had returned to my crotch. 

"I like that," I said.

She sounded like she wanted to say something else and then thought better of it.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just keep kissing my boobs, please?"

So I did. 

In a few minutes we were on the sofa and I was continuing the job, only with a better vantage point as she lay on top of me to give me the best possible access to her breasts. We were both moaning heavily and my cock was raging against my jeans and begging for release, though that was a line we hadn't crossed yet. As much as I would love to see her on her knees in front of me take me... that way... I just couldn't get up the nerve to ask her to do that. She was too good a friend and if things went weird after something like that, then, well... you know.

She arched her back and seemed to be watching the ceiling and if I looked up from her boobs I could see the lovely curve of her neck and observe the gooseflesh rise there at the combination of cool air from the air condition and her excitement from my attention. 

Suddenly, she repositioned herself over me and started to grind. 

Her girl clitty rested noticeably against my cock then began to move up and down, massaging me as it slid along the length of my shaft. I didn't even notice that I had stopped paying attention to her breasts. 

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Why'd you stop?"

I couldn't answer. I was sure the embarrassment was pure red all over my face. 

"Fuck," she whispered as she climbed off me and sat on the floor beside the couch. "Fuck."

"I'm sorry," I whined. "I'm so sorry."

"It's... okay. I shouldn't have... Fuck." She stood up and I could see the disappointment in her face and shoulders. "It's my fault. I shouldn't get my fucking hopes up so much."

I got up and reached for her, but she pulled away. 

"Valerie?"

"Not right now, Chris. Please."

She seemed so broken at that moment. I hated myself for having such a hang-up. If I really loved her, I could get over it, right? If I really wanted to be her boyfriend, I could accept her as she was, and I knew it. But I was just another asshole like all the former boyfriends she cried to me about. 

I had thought because I loved her for so long I could love her better. 

Shit. 

"I'll call you later," she said as she readjusted her shirt. 

"Valerie?"

She shook her head.

"We're good. It's okay. Really."

I knew it wasn't. No matter what she said. 

"I fucked up. I'm sorry."

"Not fucking now, Chris. Okay?"

I nodded. 

She stepped into her sandals and smiled.

"I'll call you tonight. Don't worry about it, okay."

Like hell. 

Then she left. When I heard the front door close, I punched the back of the fucking couch as hard as I could. 

Chapter 2

"Listen," I said first thing that night when Valerie called me, even before she started to speak, "I know I fucked up."

"I don't want to talk about that," she said. I tried to pick up on any feelings behind her words, but I couldn't tell at all what she was thinking. "I want you to come over."

"Even after..." I let the words trail off. Better not to throw a second chance away on something she had said she didn't want to talk about. "Okay. Now?"

"Yeah. Now. Please."

"It'll take me about a half-hour since there's no traffic this late."

"Good. Can't wait." That time she actually sounded a little excited. I wanted to ask for details, but I also wasn't going to risk fucking up a second time on the same day. "I found something."

"Found something?"

"It's a surprise. Just come on over." 

"Okay. It's a date," I said, waiting for Valerie's reaction.

"You're damn right it is," she said. 

Rather than waste time, I grabbed a tank top from the edge of my bed and a pair of cargo shorts, then slipped on my flip-flops and marched to the door with all the subtleness of a WWII tank. 

Thirty-seven minutes later, thanks to a license check on the old county road, I pulled into Valerie's 1,200 square-foot ranch house and parked my SUV on the side where she had extended the single-wide driveway to an extra lane so guests wouldn't have to part on the grass and dirt.

She was waiting for me at the door, which opened when she heard me pull up. She wore a lavender nightgown and white thigh-high stockings. I could only assume she had tucked or caged her clitty to make our evening less tense. Nothing was showing from what I could see as I approached her anyway. Of course, she was backlit from the foyer so she seemed more like a seductive shadow than a real woman at that point. 

"Damn," I said when I reached the stoop. "I like that color on you."

"Thanks. I was hoping that might be your reaction."

"So what's the big surprise?"

She took my hand and pulled me inside then shut the door behind us. "In a bit." Then she practically dragged me to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of cheap wine out of her fridge. "Don't worry. It hasn't been long. Just enough to chill a bit."

I nodded as she poured two glasses and handed me one. 

"Listen," I said. "Thanks for inviting me over. I'm really sorry."

"That's over and done," she said, shaking her head. "Like it never happened. Have a seat."

"You're the boss."

We sat opposite each other at her breakfast table.

"Bullshit. But I'll take you up on that, if just for tonight."

"Oh?"

She motioned toward a rainbow-colored stone on the table between us. 

"Ever seen one of these before?"

"Can't say that I have."

"It's a wishing stone. Or at least it's supposed to be."

"Really?" I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. 

"Oh shush, you. I was the same way so I tested it earlier today and worked. It actually fucking worked."

"You're shitting me."

"I'm not. Seriously."

"Riiiiiiiiight."

"I figured it could help us out. And hey, if not, what have we got to lose, right?"

"I guess." I figured if I played along I could stay in Valerie's good graces and we might actually have the opportunity to start something good between us.

Even with my hang-up. 

But it sure sounded like she might be willing to work around that for now. Who was I to get in my own fucking way?

"Okay," I said reaching across the table for her hand. "What do we do?"

"Well, it's not like in the stories. You don't wish for something specific, just a general wish to fix whatever is bothering you. That's why there are all those stories like 'The Monkey's Paw,' to warn you against being two greedy or selfish with a wish. So I figured we could wish for our problem to be solved in a way that would keep us both happy and allow us to be together romantically like we want to. That should be safe."

"And it shouldn't bring any corpses back from the dead either. That's a plus."

She scowled and let it lapse into a smile. "You have to take it seriously though."

"Okay, okay. Sorry. But you have to admit..."

"Yeah, I know. It's a little woo-woo crazy. But humor me, please, Chris."

I squeezed her hand. 

She grinned then let go and grabbed the stone. Then she interlocked our fingers so that we both held the stone against our palms. 

"Don't be too specific, like I said. So don't wish for my clitty to turn into a pussy or something like that. The magic isn't that specific. I mean, if could do that, according to my Grandmother's notes, but you can't make it do something that detailed. Just wish for something more general and let's see what happens."

"Like I said, you're the boss."

"Like I said, just tonight." 

We both laughed and then her face got incredibly serious. 

"Ready?"

I nodded. 

She closed her eyes. So I closed mine too. 

After a few moments nothing had happened, and I squinted to see if hers were still shut. They were. I waited, still squinting. In another minute or so, she lurched them open and suddenly had the most shocked look on her face I'd ever seen. 

"Holy shit, Chris!" she said. 

We let go of each other's hands and the stone fell to the tabletop, bounced twice, and finally settled with a wobbling stop.

"What?!" I yelled.

"It worked. It fucking worked. Or at least it did something."

"Okay. Good." 

I coughed to clear my throat. It was sore a bit and I sounded a bit like I went back for a second helping of puberty. 

"I need something to drink."

Valerie motioned to my wine glass, and I took a long steady sip until my parched throat felt wet enough for my voice to return to normal. 

"Shit, Chris. It's amazing."

"What's amazing, Val?" I asked, my voice still not quite right. It had the right pitch but the wrong tamber. 

"You," she said, her face still beaming with surprise. "You're amazing."

I smiled. She stood up, and I pushed my chair back and stood up too. Only then did I realize I was looking up at her. The only time I did that was when she was in heels, but tonight she had met me at the door in stocking feet. We should have been eye-to-eye. 

"Whoa. Are you standing on something? You're not on the chair, are you?"

She shook her head. 

"Then why --"

"You're shorter than me now," she said with a huge smile. "You're a good four inches shorter than me, Chris."

"The wish made me shorter?"

She laughed loudly. 

"That's not all it did."

I raced out of the kitchen and through the living room, stopping only when I reached the mirror over the curio table in the foyer. Instead of the 5'9" white dude with blonde-brown hair I had seen in my car mirror when I primped before leaving my driveway, I saw a cute-as-a-button little redhead with short, spikey hair that resembled an '80s rock and roll starlet with cute D-cups with a splash of freckles across both her nose and her cleavage. Perhaps the tank top had been a bad choice, I thought, but then refocused my attention on the issue of my transformation.

Suddenly, it dawned on me, the changing voice made a lot of sense.

Before I could stop the impulse, I rested my hand over my shorts. My crotch was flat. 

I peeled down the pants and checked beneath my boxers. 

My outie had become an innie. 

I was a girl. 

Our stupid wish had turned me into a girl. 

My dick was gone. Not Valerie's. Mine.