He stands a good five inches taller than me, resting my head against his warm back. I whisper softly to him, “Good morning, babe, you didn’t have...to cook, you know? I could have done this.” “You cooked dinner last night, which was out of this world amazing. I know how to hold my own and I want to take care of my girl. You can, however, grab the orange juice from the fridge, that’s all you’re allowed to do,” he chuckles softly. “I can do that,” I kiss on his back, squeezing softly on his. Afterwards, as we lay in bed, she asked me if I missed fucking her. I told that sometimes I did, but only occasionally. I asked her if she missed it, and she said the same. She told me that the whole experience of transforming me into a woman had reinforced something in her too, and that was that she enjoyed making love to me about the same as when I made love to her. She also had come to realise that she enjoyed the ‘masculine’ side of herself, especially in the bedroom. Unlike me, she had no. More

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