Date: Sun, 14 Aug 2011 16:52:21 -0700 (PDT)
From: lauren westley <fundipity@yahoo.com>
Subject: Mirror, Mirror on the Wall by Lauren Westley TG

The (Authoress's note: of course all disclaimers are still in place
regarding characters etc. This is only a fantasy story. I only wish there
is enough here to make each of you happy. To those who have given me
constructive criticisms as well as those with praise thanks. If you don't
like the story that's understandable but please be kind in your
critique. Lauren Westley.  (fundipity@yahoo.com)


Mirror, Mirror On The Wall

By Lauren Westley

A lifetime seems to become shorter when you reach fifty-five; also known as
the double nickel.  My twenty-year marriage had ended in divorce and since
we had been a childless couple I didn't contest incompatibility. If I had
been more honest with myself I probably would never have married. It wasn't
sexless but it was without passion.

During our divorce my last parent had passed away. Mother had outlived my
Dad by nearly ten years and since I had no siblings I inherited what little
estate remained. The most valuable was the deed to a small ranch house with
no mortgage outside Tupelo, Mississippi. As nondescript as the house is it
was still my home. In settling the divorce I had not wanted anything from
our house in Auburn Georgia but instead found my mother's furnishings quite
adequate.

It took awhile for me to decide to move from my room to refurnishing the
master to my liking. I had the bathroom redone having taken an adjacent
room and joining it to make a wonderful modern, large bathroom. During the
renovation an old door to a closet revealed a mirror had been covered over
by plywood and painted on the other side. It was a beautiful beveled
antique mirror. Over the years it had crackled a bit but my decorator and I
decided it would make a wonderful full-length mirror for the new bathroom.

No bathtub had been installed since I've taken showers since I was a young
boy despite my mental proclivity. You see, ever since I could remember I
had mentally thought of myself as having been a woman but when I explain
what I look like you'll understand why I buried the idea deep in a hidden
and private area of my brain.

At fifty-five I stand six foot tall and weigh 230 pounds. I'm big and hairy
except for my head, which is balding with plenty of white and gray with
what remains. I am what you call a bear of a man.

One night, after I had showered, as I stood on the limestone floor in front
of my antique mirror looking at the somewhat crackled mirror reflection of
me my mind concentrated on seeing my hairy mans' body and at the same time
thinking of the girl I dreamed I should have been.  Holding my second vodka
martini with my naked body in the mirror I momentarily was shocked when I
looked down at my feet and for a moment thought I saw feminine toes with
red toenail polish.

That night I dreamt a dream from back in my childhood when I visited my
cousins. Christina was three years older then David and I. I stayed there
for a week. For some reason I ended up in Christina's room. I remember
looking in her drawer and finding a simple pair of white satin panties. I
put them on and I felt so good. And then I put them back in the draw and
pressed all those thoughts deep into my mind as I pressed the panties flat
as if squeezing out my unholy thoughts. For my lifetime I only remembered
them from time to time.

However this night I dreamt of being in that room with the pastel colors; a
smell of jasmine wafting through the air as I saw myself as Christina and
not as Bobbie, my mind awake but my body asleep. The night was electric
with my dream. I'm sure you've had vivid dreams. This was one of those. I
awoke in the morning disappointed and got back to the reality of my job and
boring life. By early afternoon my thoughts turned back to the day before
and I assured myself I would do exactly the same thing as yesterday and see
what may happen.

Even though my mind was elsewhere I saw my big hairy hands complete my
workload early and since I wasn't an hourly employee I decided to go home
at four pm. The ride in my vintage wreck of a Honda Civic kept me in both
anticipation and suspense. As I drove I thought if I were Christina I
wouldn't drive this heap. Instead I'd have a Mercedes convertible; white
with red leather interior. I'd have blond hair, blue eyes and a skirt
riding up my thighs. But here I was, David driving this Civic wearing Sam's
Club clothing. Even my no name sneakers told the story of my sorry ass.

Arriving home I lumbered out of the dinged up Civic and walked to my front
door. The door was the only outward sign of another me. In a nondescript
neighborhood of homes I had painted the door a glossy shade between
watermelon and plum. It was an oddity on my street but when I was asked why
I would reply, "the color was on sale." But it was a feminine touch for
such a bachelor pad.

Home at last with my outlandish colored door closed behind me I took stock
of my meager abode. Since this house had been my mom's the living room
furniture was old and worn but since my Mom a decorator it had her
look. The sofa was green worsted wool and the stuffed chairs a plaid of
yellow and brown. Actually it looked atrocious. I guess I knew where my
door color came from genetically.

My bedroom was a different story. I had done the whole thing in black and
white. It was a neither here nor there scheme and without a gender
orientation, modern Spartan. I removed my clothes laying them on the bed
and walked naked into the bathroom. Avoiding the mirror I turned on the
shower and while waiting for the water to warm brushed my teeth. The one
good asset I had. They were white, straight and created a nice smile. In
the mirror above the sink I could see my five o'clock shadow, which had
arrived as usual early. Washing my legs my fingers glided over the thick
testosterone follicles.

All clean I stepped out of the shower and dried myself off. The mirror
above the sink showed a middle-aged man who had aged badly. There was no
growing old gracefully for me. I had simply grown old. It's funny how my
mind and my body didn't match as if God had played a cruel trick on me.

I caught an odd glimpse of my butt reflected in the mirror above my sink
reflecting from the antique mirror behind. But I didn't see my flat
butt. Instead as I looked I saw a perfectly rounded feminine ass. I could
only see the left-hand side but I saw enough to see the curvature of my
waist and hairless thigh.

Shocked I stood longer looking then you'd expect. I was amazed. Awed.

Over the next week I would return to my mirror each night. Spending more
and more time looking at the beautiful me. When I touched my body she
touched hers. It wasn't mine because my hands felt my balls and penis as
she felt her Venus mound and pussy.

Each night I got to know her body and it was exquisite. I fail at the words
to express what I saw. The words seem so mundane comparatively but here is
whom I saw. Judging from my height I estimate her to be 5'7", small frame,
perhaps 115 pounds. I don't know her cup size but they appear as if
sculpted by the gods to perfection. When my hands lifted my chest I could
tell how lush they would feel as her hands mimicked mine. Her nipples were
moderate pink toned with wonderful areolas. To look at her skin was to
think she was photo shopped. The only blemish on her skin was a small
beauty mark, a mole, just to the left of her small blond patch of hair
above her mon pubis and although her skin was a radiant white it seemed
obvious her skin would tan a golden bronze.

Her arms and legs showed feminine muscularity. Her face was strikingly
beautiful. Full- unpainted lips radiating a pouting sensuality captivated
my eyes.

I spent hours before the mirror studying her and she seemed to be studying
me, a mirror image. Her calves were turned so femininely with light blond
fuzz and what appeared cotton like in texture. And although I couldn't
smell her I imagined her scent to be a mixture of honey and lavender.

The days at work blurred while my nights and weekends were full with an
emotional rapture I can't describe. At work I worried she'd be gone but
fortunately she was there when I got home.

Everything changed one Friday evening while I standing looking at her. I
was very close, within inches, to the mirror. A small smudge on the mirror
blurred one of her areola. I reached out to rub it clean when something
truly amazing happened. My forefinger reached for the mirror and so did
hers. Our fingers didn't stop at the mirror but instead rippled through the
mirror and I was touching her nipple and she mine. The shock was mental
electric. My minds so shocked I pulled my hand back quickly and began to
perspire. Shaking I left the bathroom scared, excited and emotionally
drained.

Saturday morning I got up. I didn't even go to the bathroom. Instead I got
dressed and went out for the whole day. And although all I thought about
was what had happened the night before I stayed away from the mirror until
Sunday morning. Drawn like a moth to a fire I walked over to the mirror
after showering. She was still there. Dripping wet like I was. Her blond
hair darkened wet shedding water droplets onto her breasts.

What should I do? What would happen if? And as if lightening flashed across
my synapses a decision and action formulated and became action. I walked
into the mirror and she walked out into my bathroom. I turned watching
myself leave my bathroom and I realized I was now her.  The mirror changed
from showing my bathroom to simply reflecting my new body. And as much as I
was now who I always wanted to be I was also scared. I wondered how this
mirror worked. Why wasn't she there while I was standing here? What had
happened?

I walked naked with an unimaginable feeling. The whole movement of my body
was different. It was so much more then just the movement and awareness of
my breasts. Wandering through her place, now my place, I found I was in a
one-bedroom apartment with no windows and no doors. There was a closet full
of beautiful dresses and dresser full of erotic lingerie. There was a
kitchen with a dining area. The bathroom was large with a vanity and it was
in the drawer on the right of the vanity I found this note later that day.

"I have been stuck here for nearly 60 years waiting for someone to change
places with. Every day and every night I would come to the mirror hoping
someone would be there. Finally you arrived. I have very little to tell you
except this. You must learn everything about being a woman including
menstruation, cramps, mood swings but fortunately you cannot get pregnant.
If you are successful windows and doors will magically appear and you will
find yourself in a world where you are the only woman. You have thirty days
to accomplish this. If you are not successful the mirror will disappear and
you will still be what you are. The mirror is your only hope to find a way
out of here. And although I will have the mirror boarded up again someday
someone will find it and you may be able to entice them to do what I
enticed you to do. The mirror seems to only works when the owner is alone
looking into it. I don't really know how the magic works but I know it
pulled me in some sixty years ago. Whether you take the next thirty days
seriously or not the men will come on the thirty-first day. You will learn
to please the very many seductive and perverted pleasures of men with your
body. Without the mirror it could be for eternity. The first thing for you
to do is pick a name and write it in the red leather bound book you'll find
on the top shelf of the bookcase. Serena.