“Shit.” I groaned, thick fingers slick with juices. It was still between my legs, ‘sleeping it off’ obviously wasn’t the solution and now it is wetter than ever. I couldn’t get too carried away as I heard footsteps thundering up the stairs. 

My masculine fingers slick with feminine juices as I tried not to groan pulling them from myself. Not that I needed to verify but yep that’s definitely still Jenna’s pussy! 

As footsteps approached I quickly wriggled the cotton panties, borrowed from my son’s girlfriend, back up my body before a knock on the door was heard.

“Honey?” It was my wife’s voice, “I’ve still got your cock I’m guessing that means you’ve got Jenna’s erm…you know.” She called through. 

“Yep…still got it.” I called back, getting out of bed. I saw myself in the mirror, still me mostly. 6’2”, broad shoulders, a Dad bod, yet with a pair of white cotton panties…a completely flat crotch and the beginnings of a rounder more feminine rear. 

“Have you seen your feet?” She asked a little nervously. 

Scratching my beer belly I looked down and saw two dainty feminine feet, topped with red nail polish. 

“Fuck.” I groaned, not only were we not changing back but it was getting worse. 

“Yep!” My wife responded hearing my disappointment, “Breakfast will be ready in five, see you down there.” She added before stomping off, presumably with feet attached to her. 

“Shit.” I groaned, thick fingers slick with juices. It was still between my legs, ‘sleeping it off’ obviously wasn’t the solution and now it is wetter than ever. I couldn’t get too carried away as I heard footsteps thundering up the stairs. (More Below)