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The coolness of the summer forest wrapped around my body, and I caught myself shivering. Even when I just stood still, I felt how under the fabric of my white hoodie my breasts trembled on their own, impossible to control. Though of course, I was glad at least I had that on me. I still couldn’t believe this was my body. Mine! The tight black thong rubbed between my ass cheeks so much that every second was a test and at the same time a reminder that all this was real.
— You coming? — a woman’s voice with a slight accent rang out.
I turned around. In front of me stood a catgirl with ears that seemed to have a life of their own. She was holding a branch like a staff and looking at me with a smirk. Just like me — or so she claimed — she was a twenty-nine-year-old programmer from Osaka. A man, damn it.
— I… maybe we should stop here? — I mumbled, feeling my thighs rub together awkwardly again the moment I took just one step toward her. My ass swayed, and the thin strip of the thong dug deeper, like it was mocking me on purpose.
— Ha, Mel, you’re already tired? — the catgirl grinned, rolled her shoulder, and her black ears twitched in my direction. — It’s only been a couple of hours. And we’ve got the whole night ahead.
I exhaled heavily. Mel. That’s what she kept calling me, even though I made it clear my name was Michael. Michael Johnson! Damn it, thirty-five years of being a man. Only now that name sounded ridiculous as I walked barefoot through wet grass, my ass in these stupid black thongs swaying so much that I felt every inch of fabric cutting into my skin.
— Michael. My name is Michael. Stop calling me that, — I breathed out in my voice that now sounded more like some spoiled college girl than a grown man from Seattle.
Akira burst into laughter, her ears twitching under the hood.
— Did you hear yourself, Melody? — she tilted her head slightly, squinting. — “My name is Michael”… ha-ha. You could call yourself Bill Gates and you’d still be Mel to me. You’re exactly like her.
I flinched..