.. or let him know any other way. I ran things. All of the time. Well, most of the time. Aw, shit, I wasn't running a fucking thing right now, and I k...ew it, as he pushed his cock into my face, and I pushed my nose into it, smelling its manly musk, its headiness. Thank god, though, he didn't know any of this. I'll get him off quick, and then get the hell out of here myself. I could always beat off later.The stud had other ideas, I guess. He started rubbing his fucking cock in my face. And then. "I started to change," said Clay, smiling at the memory. "My features softened, my hips began to broaden and my shoulders to narrow; breasts sprouted from my chest, and long, blonde hair from my head. It took maybe thirty minutes in all, but when the changes were finished I was a dead ringer for that teenage hooker. I still remember running my hands, those slender hands with the long nails, over my pretty face, fondling my beautiful breasts, and exploring my. More

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