Her legs fell back to the bed and her arms wrapped around his sweaty back, holding him close while she waited out her own slow recovery.“You’re a ...exual god,” she finally managed. “I know you and Wendy make all sorts of jokes about me, but I’m serious. It’s like you were designed in a laboratory to be my ideal sexual partner. That was amazing.”“Thank you, but of course I’m no Art Fingers.”“Oh, shut up,” she cackled. “Seriously: it just gets better and better. I’m no longer surprised at the. Would I ever get out of here? Can I get mybody back, or am I doomed to live as a she-male freak? I missed me. Imissed my strong body, my attractive face. I began to think of how hot Ihad been, how all the women, and even the men, watched me in the gym as Ilifted weights or practiced yoga. I thought of how my male body had moved,and it began to make me horny.I released my shrunken cock from the thong and began to touch myself. Ithought of women: big-titted bimbos sucking my whore-choker until. More

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