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The Girl
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'I don't think I've ever seen her without her stockings?'

Ken was fantasising again.

Every morning he would take the bus to and from his university, and every so often there'd be this girl? small for age, she looked no older than 19. Though Ken knew she was definitely older than that. She attended classes in the campus too so he figured she was around his age.

She had longish brown hair that framed a cute face; she had the cutest blush on her cheeks, as if she was always shy. Her locks fell over an adorable scarf and rested lightly on her shoulders, almost reaching her smallish breasts. She was slim and her flat tummy was tastefully covered in a light button shirt, barely tucked into her tartan skirt.

And every time Ken saw her, the long slender legs that emerged from the hem of the skirt would be snugly embraced by the smoothest, creaseless and most perfect black stockings he'd ever laid eyes upon. He didn't even know what shoes she wore for sure because his mental scan of her would end right there.

Of course, his mental scan would then branch off in another direction. He hoped she liked the leggings. Maybe she was just like him. Maybe she shared his? thing? for tight clothing? One day. One day he'd talk to her. Maybe ask her out. Just? maybe another time?

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Jodi
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Jodi was flushed, as usual. She stood quietly in a corner of the bus, one hand squeezing the handrail and another behind her back. Her eyes were trained on the floor, a small distance away from her, but she wasn't really looking at anything. She stood stiffly and took in a soft, shuddering breath. She subconsciously squeezed her thighs together and flexed her pelvic muscles.

She felt herself blush a deeper red as her involuntary movements reminded her how wet she was. She tried to distract herself by looking around the bus. No one seemed to be paying her attention. She felt a bit of relief.

She turned her gaze to the other side of the bus and saw a boy looking towards her direction. He was looking? no, staring at her legs. He had no idea. He had no idea how she was feeling right now.

Jodi closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. She could barely focus on anything. All she could think of was the slow gentle stimulation on her clit. The light rubbing of her nipples. The light stroking up her thigh. The light, yet slow throbbing pressure on her pussy. The playful caress? all over her skin.

"Yonge Street"

Her thoughts were interrupted by the digital voice on the bus. She'd reached her stop. She stepped away from the rail and quickly moved off the bus. She bit her lower lip hard and screamed silently in her mind as the fabric danced between her thighs and rubbed against her skin as she walked. She quickly moved her black, tightly gloved hands into her pockets, hiding them from sight.

As she moved along she felt her button down shirt playfully dancing against her tightly covered nipples. She'd learned to stop wearing jeans and was glad that her skirt wouldn't tease her under the waist.

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The City
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Ken watched as the girl disembarked from the bus. He was jealous. He wanted to know what it felt like to have his legs wrapped up like that. He wanted to know what it was like to have the tight pantyhose stretch against a pussy. He was 22, but he would be turning 23 in a few days. He couldn't wait.

Decades ago, gender reassignment technology had reached a state of near perfection. A person with a reassigned gender would be no different than a person who was born of the same gender. It was perfection right down to the cells. However, such luxuries were not cheap, and few could afford to do it.

However, in Toronto, when the technology had been perfected, the Toronto City Council decided that every human had the right to choose his or her gender. As such, once its citizens reached the age of 23 and were deemed mature enough to make their own decisions, the city would subsidise up to one gender reassignment.

In the years that followed, despite having a rocky start, the policy began to become widely accepted, and today, not a second thought is given to a person's 'original' gender.

In exactly 3 more days, Ken would have his chance. He'd never been into guys and never will, but from a young age he'd looked down at himself and just knew that something was wrong. Then when he discovered pornography, he'd read about the sexual experience a girl could have that a guy couldn't, and since then, it was really a no-brainer.

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Home
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The door to her apartment closed now, Jodi quickly dropped her scarf, tore off her button down blouse and jumped out of her tartan skirt. She undid her boots and looked down at her body. Jodi closed her eyes and moaned. She was so turned on that even the sight of her body sent her over the edge.

Standing in the middle of the apartment was Jodi. Her feet were encased in a sleek black tightness. The material ran snugly up her shapely legs, smoothing out any blemishes she might ever have had. The two black tubes drawn tightly around perfection, meeting at her crotch, where her slit was clearly visible, right underneath her throbbing clit.

The material was drawn deep between her legs. It formed a V around her crotch and hugged her butt tightly. But it didn't stop there. A valley was obvious where her navel was. The tight blackness hugged her curves and wrapped her breasts. It wrapped around her shoulders and flowed down her arms. Each slender finger was coated in the inky fabric down to their tips. The material closed around her neck and went up, finally stopping under her chin and hair line.

Jodi ran her gloved hands up and down her perfectly coated body, visibly trembling and shuddering under her own touch.

The suit was perfection. There were no seams, no zips. Just tight, black fabric hugging her every curve, stroking her, playing with her.

A gloved hand reached into a drawer, pulling out a vibrator. Jodi was on the floor now. She switched on the toy and brought it to her sex.

Jodi screamed.