Authors: Maxwell Avoi
The next step was to find a
store and get a charger. He figured that he couldn’t run into many shamrocks in
an electronics store. Quest thus decided, he headed out with as firm a step as
he could manage. By the time he’d gone three blocks he wondered if he should
find another shamrock; walking as a woman was more difficult than he’d imagined
but he’d seemed pretty comfortable with it when he’d been under the influence.
It was a sour joke, of course, and it made him remember his time with Leo
again. Not that he’d forgotten it for a second. The soreness down below was his
constant reminder.
His awkwardness slowed him.
At the same time his inept steps made his hips thrash and his tits jounce with
more force than was necessary. Men and a few women watched as he passed.
Michael wasn’t used to being stared at like a piece of meat, and the attention
made him blush.
Finally he found a suitable
store and went inside. The money in his pocket would be enough, wherever the
hell it had come from. He didn’t want to think about why Blarney had left him
fifteen hundred dollars; it couldn’t have been from sheer altruism.
He found the right charger
and took it to the front. The checker was a tall man who tried to hit on him,
but Michael just went with saying nothing and ignoring him as best he could.
The checker, in return, settled for staring down Michael’s cleavage. Michael
couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
He looked around and found a
coffee shop. They always had outlets for laptops, so he knew he’d be able to
charge the phone there. He went inside and bought an Irish Latte (Genuine
whiskey flavoring!) since they were on sale, and then went and found a chair
while he waited. In the bag, he found an extra card with the receipt. He turned
it over and found a paper four-leaf clover printed on it, along with a message
to have a nice March, and he felt the shock run through his fingers and up his
arm again.
“Oh, come on, seriously?”
she said. Even paper ones gave the effect? At least it didn’t seem as strong;
she wasn’t fucking the guy at the next table. Michael sighed impressively and
unwrapped the charger, plugging in it and her phone.
She gave it a few moments to
charge. The waitress brought the drink over. She was a slender, striking
brunette with big brown eyes, and any other time Michael would have been very
attracted to her. As it was, she was nervous about letting herself be attracted
to anyone; she wasn’t sure what the magic would do.
The waitress, Linda, smiled
and handed the cup over. Their fingers touched when Michael took the cup, and
she shivered. Maybe the paper shamrock had done more to her than she’d thought;
she felt warm all over. Then she noticed that Linda was looking down her shirt,
and smiled to herself. Maybe there were more possibilities here than she’d
thought. If Linda was a lesbian, and Michael was currently a woman, then she
might have a shot after all.
She took a drink and felt
the deep shock run through her again. Michael had raised the cup, but Molly was
the one who lowered it. She looked at the drink and found a giant shamrock printed
on the lid, the stem seeming to grow out of the tiny slot that she’d just drunk
from. Molly felt her nipples harden and she swayed just a little in her seat as
the lust surged inside of her again. This time it was focused on Linda, who
looked confused and nervous at the sudden intensity of Molly’s gaze.
Molly smiled up at her, the
confident smile of a predator, and Linda looked around as if for help. No one
was looking at them. Molly said, “So tell me, Linda…would you like t’sit an’
talk?” Molly noticed that her accent became more pronounced when she was under
the influence of the shamrocks. She couldn’t possibly have cared less, unless
Linda was turned on by accents.
“I, ah, I have to get back
to work, and…”
“Oh, and you’ve got a lovely
voice. Come back to me when you get a chance?” Molly ran one finger down her
own neck and then into her cleavage, slowly tracing the top bulges of her heavy
breasts. Linda’s eyes were drawn there and she gawked openly for a moment
before snapping out of it.
She nodded. “Yeah. I’ll see
if, um, if I can get a break, or something.”
Molly smiled and wiggled the
tips of her fingers in Linda’s direction as the waitress headed back to the
counter. Surely she wouldn’t have a hard time getting a break; outside of Molly
there were only two other people in the store and they had already been served.
Molly sipped from her latte, impressed at how close the non-alcoholic flavoring
was to whiskey. Every time her soft lips touched the lid and the picture
thereon, she got another little shock. Her arousal grew with each sip, and soon
her panties were soaking again.
By the time that Linda came
back, Molly was in a state. Before, Leo had represented everything that was
sexy in the world thanks to the shamrock effect, but now Molly couldn’t imagine
anyone being more perfect than Linda. Even the sight of her muffin-top, a
little extra flesh bulging out over her beltline, aroused feelings of
tenderness and desire in Molly’s spectacular body. Molly was practically
drooling at the sight of her.
She leaned over and smiled
at Linda when the waitress sat down across from her. “So tell me, Linda…is
there anywhere around here where you an’ I could talk in private?” She placed
special emphasis on the word “talk,” and then in a fit of daring she reached
out and stroked one foot up and down the inside of Linda’s calf.
Linda gave a nervous laugh
but didn’t pull away. She said, “That would, um, be nice. I don’t even know
your name, though.”
Molly grinned and kept up
her foot-play. “M’name’s Molly. I came in here expectin’ to try a latte, but I
didn’t expect t’find such a beautiful thing as you servin’ it.”
Linda’s blush was absolutely
charming. Molly wanted to fuck her. Linda said, “Oh, well, uh, th…thank you.
Um. I think maybe we could, uh, talk in the back? Like in the store room?
Maybe?”
Molly grinned and curled her
toes, pressing into the sensitive flesh in the back of Linda’s knee. Linda
pulled in a deep, unsteady breath at that and Molly giggled. This girl was perfect.
Linda stood and offered a
hand to Molly, and Molly took it. She focused on Linda’s slim hips and the way
that they swayed when she walked; Linda wasn’t all curves the way that Molly
was but Molly had a hard time imagining that anyone else could possibly be
sexier than the waitress.
Linda led her to a door
marked “Storage.” A quick look around told them that they were unobserved, so
Linda opened the door and pulled Molly inside.
Molly wrapped her arms
around her and pulled the taller girl down for a kiss almost before the door
was closed. The feel of Linda’s lips on hers was as satisfying as the touch of
Leo’s cock had been, though there was really no comparison; Leo felt like
something that had happened in the misty depths of ancient history. Linda was
there, Linda was hot, and Molly wanted her so badly that she couldn’t stand it.
Linda’s answering kiss
wasn’t as enthusiastic as Molly’s, but it was enough that Molly didn’t wonder
if her advances were unwelcome. Molly said, “You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever
seen. Oh, I just want t’lick you all over.”
Linda giggled, still
sounding a little nervous, but she didn’t exactly push Molly away. Linda lifted
one hand and squeezed Molly’s right boob, and Molly moaned quietly into Linda’s
shoulder. Emboldened, she lifted Linda’s shirt an inch at a time, kissing her
way up the center of Linda’s soft belly until she ran into the bra. Linda was
breathing hard by that time, her small breasts bulging and receding, and Molly
had never seen anything so enchanting. She wanted Linda’s tits.
Molly pressed her face to
Linda’s cleavage as she reached around with both hands to find the hook holding
her bra closed. Linda jumped a little when it came undone but she didn’t
protest. That was gone; Molly wasn’t sure if she could stop anyway.
Linda’s breasts were small
but perfectly formed. Molly just stared at them for a second, a long rest in
the symphony of lust that consumed them, and then she darted forward to suckle
gently at one beautiful nipple. Linda moaned as quietly as she could while
Molly licked and rolled the nipple between her lips, ending with gentle suction
as she pulled away. Then she repeated it with the other breast, and by the time
she was done with that she could feel Linda’s hips making little bucking
motions. It made her giggle. Linda tried half-heartedly to knead at Molly’s
expansive chest, but Molly whispered, “Next time, girl. Right now we’ve only
got time for one and I want it t’be you.”
Linda didn’t protest, the
waves of pleasure stifling any objections she might have had. Besides, Molly
was right: time was limited. She left her hand where it was as long as she
could, though; it was a treat to touch a breast like Molly’s, and who knew when
she would get another chance.
Molly didn’t object either;
each touch and squeeze sent another thrill through her that grounded itself in
what she assumed was her clit. She made a mental note to get more familiar with
her own body now that she was a woman. She lowered herself to the floor. Linda
made a disappointed noise when her hand slipped away from Molly’s breast but it
turned to happy anticipation when Molly undid Linda’s belt.
She was soaked by the time
that Molly got her belt, pants, and panties out of the way. Molly’s touches and
sheer appeal had made sure of that. Molly was glad; the slick heat was
confirmation that Linda really wanted this and making Linda happy was currently
her entire goal in life.
She pulled the panties down
a bit and just admired the pussy that had been concealed up until then. The
lips were puffy, engorged with arousal, and she could see the tiny bead of
Linda’s clit peeking out of its hood.
Molly…attacked. She launched
a tongue-led assault on Linda’s lips, savoring the juices as she worked her way
deeper into Linda with each lick. She used a finger as well, stroking and
kneading. Bu the time that Molly had suppressed all other opposition and was
ready to go to war on Linda’s clit, Linda was moaning and whimpering in
ecstatic submission. Molly grinned; it wouldn’t take much to ensure Linda’s
ultimate surrender to Molly’s forces.
She started with a lick,
soft and quick with her talented tongue. Linda’s knees buckled at the feeling,
forcing her to grab onto the shelves with both hands. She bit down on a yelp;
it wouldn’t do to have the customers or her boss aware of what was going on.
Molly seemed to know just what to do, her lips and tongue stolen from a goddess
of sex.
Soon she sensed that Linda
was right on the edge. Molly slid a finger into Linda and stood. She gazed into
Linda’s eyes and kissed her as she pumped into Linda with her finger. Her palm
rubbed hard against Linda’s clit, and her finger curled inward to press against
the spongy flesh at the top of the inner cavity.
Linda bucked hard as she
came. Her cries were mostly muffled by Molly’s kiss, coming out as a series of
very emphatic squeaks that probably weren’t audible outside the storage room.
Molly felt something draining out of her as the climax carried Linda to new
heights. By the time that Linda collapsed against the shelves, panting, Molly had
become Michael again, at least mentally.
Suddenly awkward, Michael
looked at the door and then at the panting waitress in front of him. He
whispered, “I’ll see you again!” and then slipped out the door. He wasn’t
nearly as graceful now that his mind didn’t match his body, and he almost fell
on the way out. Instead he stumbled up against the door, which whipped open as
far as it could go and banged against the wall. The noise was loud and all the
customers in the shop turned and stared at Michael and the half-naked Linda.
Michael slammed the door shut and ran to his table, nearly at the point of
toppling over with every step thanks to his strange flesh. He grabbed his phone
and his charger and made his escape, walking quickly to get out of the shop.
He was so embarrassed that
he was sure that his cheeks would have started fires. He didn’t stop his
floundering half-run for another three blocks, and then he only slowed because
he was tired of his tits almost bouncing out of his shirt with every step. This
had to end soon. He resolved to never take another drink again in his life.
Finally he had to stop; this
new body had stamina but he wasn’t going to accomplish anything by running the
rest of the day. He turned right and went another block before finding a quiet
bench. Then he sat and turned on his phone. The screen blinked for a moment
before showing the low-battery warning. He knew that he only had a few minutes
at best thanks to the interrupted charging session, but he had to try.
The text-message box was flooded
with messages from his friends dating back the last two days. They were
variations of “dude, where are you?” in various flavors of legibility that got
worse as the attached dates and times advanced. Nothing useful there.
The pictures were slightly
more help, if only to establish a timeline. The early ones showed him and his
friends in different bars. They seemed familiar; Michael had hazy recollections
of a couple of them. Then a guy who had to be Blarney showed up in the
thirteenth picture. He was dressed all in green, with a frock coat and a
tam-o-shanter hat. He even had a thin pipe clenched between his teeth, with
green smoke rising out of the bowl. A few pictures later found Michael and
Blarney in another pub, without his friends, and two pictures later found
Blarney hugging a very surprised-looking woman identical to the one Michael had
seen in the mirror. The next ones looked pretty typical if you didn’t know the
identities of the people involved, the girl losing her shocked look and Blarney
keeping his sly, joyous one. There was a shot of Michael with his shirt pulled
up to his throat, getting his breasts autographed by a local celebrity, and
then a shot of Blarney motor-boating between the magnificent mounds. Michael
was laughing in the picture and he could just barely see that the girl held a
shamrock between two fingers. The pictures ended early in the morning on
Sunday, giving Michael no clue as to how he’d ended up in the hotel.