My night out with Meghan’s friends was enjoyable.  We met at a restaurant for appetizers and drinks, but most for the drinks.  As we sat there catching up, I couldn’t believe how easy it was for me to fit in with them and give no indication that I was now Meghan.  My mind wandered in and out of the conversation, in eager anticipation for what was to happen when I got home.

As my daydreams of having full-fledged sex as Meghan for the first time made my heart race, so did the sight of another one of Meghan’s friends, Michelle.  Meghan was the most attractive one out of the group, but a very close second, I had always thought, was Michelle.  Her beauty was different than mine.  She had the build of a model, tall and lean, with a few less curves than myself, but very attractive.  Her face was gorgeous with a sexy neckline that ran up to high cheek bones.  She had a sexy mouth, wide, with a bright smile. She had shown up wearing a tight black miniskirt that hugged her small, but perky, butt and a casual yellow top that was form fitting that hugged her breasts.  I had always guessed they were probably a full B cup and after seeing her in that top, I was probably correct. 

But it was her black knee high leather boots that really caught my attention, as well as every guy in the restaurant.  She was about the same height as me without them, but with them on, her long legs became even longer with the four inch stiletto heels the boots and she hovered over me in all of her leggy glory.  Couple that with her long and straight dirty blond hair put up in a ponytail, she looked like a cross between a high-end escort and a secretary from a porno film.

“So, Meghan, how about we go to yoga class together Monday morning?” asked Michelle.

God, I would love to see her long legs and graceful body do yoga, I thought to myself. 

“Sounds good, how about the 10:00 class?”  I replied, trying to hold back my excitement.

“Great!” she replied, making sure I noticed her response.  She was smiling, but had a little devilish grin to her too.  It made me wonder if there was chemistry there, but I quickly shook it off as me wishing that were true.

“So, Meghan, how are things going since we got together last?” said another friend through the noise of the restaurant.  “You seemed pretty upset last time.  Is your husband happier?

Trying not expose the truth, I said, “Yeah, he’s much happier now.  I think he got what he wanted.”  Michelle’s devilish grin must have been contagious because I was now dawning that same grin.

“Well, how are you doing with everything?” said another friend to me.

“What do you mean?” I asked, unsure of what she was talking about specifically.

Michelle interrupted, “Last time you said you felt bad he sacrificed a lot and that you didn’t know why you couldn’t do the same.”
 
There it was again.  Meghan’s trainer, and now Michelle, were saying this same thing.  It made me think for a minute.  So she knew I wasn’t happy; now that couldn’t have been have been hard to figure out.  But what was new to me was that not only did she not know what to change to make me happy, she didn’t care enough to try.  It left me with more questions. Did she not really love me much after all?  Did she just enjoy the spoiling she got from me and just take advantage of me?  Did that justify the gift I was given?  If I somehow "willed" this to happen, was it easier because she felt bad about things? 

Becoming angry, I tried to hide it with another secretly evil remark, “I guess things worked out for the best.  He got what he wanted and I’m the new and improved Meghan.” 
I forced a smile and they bought my fake sincerity.

“Well the new and improved Meghan looks gorgeous.  I love your hair and the outfit.  Those shoes are too cute!” Michelle replied.
 
Her deep brown eyes looked at me and her lip-glossed lips smiled bright.  She was turning me on; that was definitely clear
. 
With her sitting beside me, I leaned back and put my hand on her shoulder and cheerfully said, “Thanks!”

As my hand retreated, it brushed down her back and around her waist.  She felt so good.  In reaction to my touch, she slowly re-crossed her legs, her long legs slowly rubbing together.  She passed one of my tests.  She looked so sexy crossing her legs, she was probably very sexual in bed.
 
I began to have a fantasy that I was in my old body and I was fucking her; mounted on top of her with her long slender legs locked around me as I was pumping in to her.  Thoughts quickly changed to me in my new body, and I imagined me in the same position, but our clits rubbing against each other while our soft skin rubbed against each other.  God, I bet that would be fun, I thought to myself as the girls’ conversation regained my attention.  My whole body tingled I was so turned on, unlike in my old body when my excitement would be centered around my erection.

The rest of the night was fun, but uneventful.  The more I thought about it, did it really matter what the old Meghan thought or felt?  In just 24 hours I went from feeling terrible, to being redeemed, to being angry with her.  And the truth of the matter was that it didn't matter.  Not at all.  In the end, she accepted the situation and felt bad for what she did, and left me with this gift.  I had to let it go.  The new Meghan couldn't dwell on the old anymore.

My mind wandered back to the fun new experience ahead of me tonight.  I became nervous and thought it would be weird being so much more intimate with my old self, but after a few glasses of wine, I let it go, and was not only ready, I was longing for it.