5 Senses: Sound

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“Careful with her!” Evan remarked as he surveyed the ebony beauty sandwiched between a pair of sweaty men who heaved with the effort of lifting her girth through the threshold. The marvelous grand piano, swaying between the burly porters, was gently lowered into the corner of the third floor studio apartment between the twin sized bed and small, well-worn, antique writing desk. 

The larger of the two wiped his brow with a meaty hand and regarded the results of his labor. He looked around the ramen piled atop an ancient Casio keyboard, with sheet music littering every square inch of the kitchen counter, desk and half the bed.

“You a musician?” he asked.

“Uh, kinda,” Evan mumbled, gesturing to his humble abode. “My ex-wife was also my producer.”

The mover winced sympathetically and turned his attention back to his task. In tandem, the movers placed the instrument gently down. It certainly stood out, the exquisitely styled piano was by a large margin, the nicest thing in this ramshackle complex. 

“How did you come by it?” the mover asked, wiping his brow

“The piano?” the musician asked, startled by the question, so intense was his focus on the black gleam of the instrument. Despite himself he admired the immaculate lines and spotless shine of the instrument. Running his hand along the stool which he placed before the instrument he sat down.

“At an estate sale,” he lied. “They were practically giving it away!” 

Explaining just how the failure of his loyal Casio coincided with the finalization of his divorce and the pity his mother had conferred on him to a deep despair. When she had offered him the magnificent artifact of his great aunt’s, he couldn’t say no. It was the first bit of good luck he had in a while. Coincidentally, they were actually having an estate sale

The mover took a step back, away from the instrument. Quietly he murmured, “I didn’t know this came from that place… if i had, I never would have touched it.”

Evan scoffed, caressing the curves of the grand piano with a perplexed expression. “Why?” he asked, “The thing is in fantastic condition!”

“223 West Elm?”

That was indeed his aunt’s property. Startled, Evan nodded mutely.

“It’s not a matter of condition,” the mover indicated with the mark of the cross forehead to chest before adding, “It must be cursed.”

“Ridiculous!” he responded with a knee-jerk reaction

“You aren’t originally from the area, are you…” the mover said, regarding the musician who shook his head. “About 60 years ago… A beautiful young woman, sole heiress to the VanBeuren Estate and apple of her father’s eye was murdered in cold blood by her piano tutor who killed himself after brutalizing her body. It was all over the papers at the time. My mother told me to stay away from the property because it was haunted. I can’t imagine a more cursed item than that instrument. You’d best be rid of it.”

“And miss out on owning such a magnificent piece of history?” 

The mover shook his head and backed away from the object, tapping his head, chest and shoulders in the sign of the cross a second time. 

“God help you,” he murmured before leaving, shaking his head in disgust.

Evan listened to his footfalls fade while silently contemplating the “cursed” artifact. Curses were of course utter nonsense but it really didn’t matter. Music was his livelihood and he didn’t even have an agent. Rejection after rejection had been piling up for months, as had the eviction notices. If he didn’t come up with an original song some producer was willing to buy, he’d be homeless.

He sorted through the nearby stack of papers searching for a song with potential for improvement and sighed. As he lifted the lid which covered the keyboard and it slid back noiselessly, propped the paper against the rack and held his breath. There was no way to know if the thing was in-tune before playing it. If it wasn’t, he didn’t have enough money to pay someone to fix it.

Sliding onto the bench, he laid down a c-chord and winced as the instrument softly plinked instead of the luminous reverberations of a well tuned grand piano.

“Shit,” he murmured, slamming his head onto the keyboard to a muffled, ugly blat of nearby keys. Despite his bravado in front of the movers, his desperation was palpable now. “Maybe I can tune it myself.”

*SCRIIIIIIITCH* groaned the bench as Evan slid back and moved to the side of the piano, lifting the lid and peering inside. His eyes widened in surprise at what he saw there.

Relief flooded his veins. Paper, yellowed with age, lay scattered about the interior, several pages warped beneath the hammers where he had attempted to play. As he bent over, peering closer, studying the pages he recognized ledger lines and hand-written musical notes scrawled in a delicate hand. 

Evan carefully gathered the pages from inside the instrument, stacking them based on the numbered pages. As he did so, he carefully scrutinized the pages, marveling at the immaculate, feminine script which littered the margins and added detail between the lines, using words where typically symbols would suffice. Strange.

He found the first page and across the top read the name of the song: “My Devotion.”

“Never heard of it,” Evan murmured, even as he frowned at the little heart which topped the “i”. It appeared to be an original song. “I wonder what it sounds like…”

He made it through three bars and stopped. Heart racing, chest pounding, a thrill surged through his veins. It was like his soul itself danced in reverie. 

“What a song!” he exalted. Then, with new appreciation started over from the beginning, savoring each note, chord, rise and fall of the melody. Mid-way through the second page he stopped with a perplexed expression. 

Was it possible to be so engrossed in a song that he wouldn’t have remembered turning the page? In fact, once he had begun, his fingers seemed to fly across the keyboard as if they already knew the song.

His fingers… Evan blinked. As he stared at his hands and shook his head in disbelief. For a moment, he could have sworn that the fingers were slender and feminine, complete with immaculate nails. But as he looked at them, they seemed utterly normal. He rubbed his eyes, writing it off as a side effect of the excitement for the song which offered his salvation.

He turned back to the beginning and began to play the alluring melody once again, but this time something felt off. Mistakes in tempo, errant notes, beginner’s mistakes. Evan tried again but it was even worse! Far from the majestic symphony he’d heard mere moments earlier it was an auditory travesty. 

What was wrong?

Again and again Evan would make it only a few bars before tripping up on simple transitions. It was as if his fingers refused to do as they were told. It was impossible to forget the earlier melody and so he stubbornly persisted. This was the best lead on a hit he’d ever discovered. 

Finally, after leaning back, head spinning he glanced out the window shocked to discover night had fallen. More than 9 hours, he’d made precious little progress and it was near midnight. 

“I should get ready for bed,” he said aloud to no one in particular. “Well, one more try.”

One more try turned to a dozen and Evan finally dragged himself to bed frustrated and exhausted after 1AM. 

“I’m done,” he insisted. However, a night spent tossing and turning harassed by a magnificent melody that refused to be played infuriated the musician in him. Evan refused to be defeated so easily. 

The following day, despite only a few solid hours of sleep, he was back at it. This song wasn’t so hard, and he worked steadily mastering it one bar at a time. But it took multiple days until the first page was mastered, where it usually took hours. It was a week until the chorus was conquered and nearly a month until he reached the end. 

He had mastered the song as written but discovered something terrible in the process. The song was unfinished. A page, maybe two were lacking and it was clear. His latest project was crafting a suitable finale. And if progress with the song was slow, finishing the song was interminable. It was an endless struggle until his mother called to check-in.

At least, he thought it was a month. The days were a blur and it felt like the only thing in the world was his piano and the song. Looking back, did he even leave the apartment?

“Are you OK?” his mother asked. “You sound sick.”

“I’m fine mom,” he assured her.

“Your voice sounds off, honey. Are you sure you’re not coming down with something?”

He reassured her more emphatically and she relented. 

“I want you to meet me for lunch at Parkers. I can be there in 15 minutes.”

“Lunch? It’s still early. And I can’t today.”

“It’s already after one,” she corrected. “It’s my treat. I insist.”

“I’m working on a project and I can’t just-” He paused suddenly, a realization only then occurring. “Hey, you don’t still have any of Great Aunt Rita’s stuff hanging around do you?”

“Oh, uh…” Evan’s mother paused, clearly not expecting the question. “You know we just finished her estate sale since we decided to sell the property, but we might have a couple of things still floating around. Why?”

“Any stray papers or-”

“I’ll tell you what,” she interrupted. “I’ll meet you tomorrow for breakfast at Mickey’s and I’ll bring over whatever I can find.”

Evan knew better than to press her. Moreover, as much as he wanted to stay in, the possibility of finding the final pages of Rita’s song was too alluring. 

“I’ll see you then,” he agreed.

“Good. Get some sleep honey. You sound like someone stuffed a squeaky toy down your throat.” 

*click*

Evan shook his head. Mother never changed, she was always worrying about him. Was his voice really that different? No, he decided. It must have been their connection or the fact he hadn’t really talked to anyone in weeks. 

Pushing the woman’s concerns from his head, he practiced the incomplete song, fantasizing that tomorrow the parts would finally be reunited and a wonderful payday just around the corner before finally rising to meet his mother.

“You look terrible,” Evan’s mom announced as Evan sat down across the small brunch table.

“Gee, thanks. 

“You’re so skinny, it looks like you haven’t eaten in a month. And you’re so pale, it’s spring, you should be outside, finding a nice girl. Finding love!”

“I just got divorced, mom.”

Mother looked incensed. “Six months ago!” 

Evan rolled his eyes, but he silently wondered if she had a point. His clothes were fitting awfully loose, to the point his belt was tied because there were no suitable holes. But even if she was right, mother wasn’t an artist and would never understand what he was working on. Even so, he could stand to try a little harder to eat regular meals. 

However, instead of admitting anything, he changed the subject and gestured towards the medium sized box his mother beside her. The size of the box gave him hope and he was nervously glancing at it.

“What were you able to find?” he asked as nonchalantly as he could manage.

“Well, there wasn’t much left after the estate sale, but we had to price things really low because of all the curse nonsense.”

“You’ve heard of the curse too?”

“Of course,” she nodded sadly. “Rita was my mother’s younger sister. The poor girl died so tragically, there was no way I wouldn’t find out eventually. You know the way people gossip. Your grandmother practically had a heart attack when you started playing piano at six just like her. She was convinced you’d end up like Rita.”

“Hardly. The box, any papers?”

“Most of what was left was Rita’s personal effects, clothes, and jewelry that belonged to Rita. Because of the stupid curse, even her vintage 70’s era outfits, which should have sold instantly, went untouched.”

Evan tried mightily to hide his disappointment. 

His mother must have noticed as she asked, “Do you still want it?”

“I’ll still take it,” Evan said sadly, still holding out a hope for something unexpected in the box, then turned his attention to the waitress who set down a plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of him with a grim smile. 

It was only a few bites before he was full and Evan grew tired of his mother’s criticisms as they piled up. Cut your hair, eat more, get outside, go out on some dates. 

“Allright, I’m heading home,” Evan announced, picking up the surprisingly hefty cardboard box as the contents shifted in his arms and threatened to come spilling out. Had his mother really carried this without issue? Maybe he did need to hit the gym.

“Take care of yourself Sweetie.” 

“Sure. Thanks mom,” he replied, stifling a pained grunt and shuffling out of the restaurant. He hurried as best he could manage back to his apartment. 

Throughout the walk back despite straining arms, his mothers admonitions swirled in his mind like they never had before. After he had put the box down on the bed, relieving the burden, he regarded himself in the bathroom mirror with uncommon intensity.

His hair WAS too long. Down to his shoulders, longer than he had ever worn it. How had he let it grow so long without noticing? Yet as he searched his bathroom for the electric razor it occurred to him how long it had been since he’d shaved. Weeks had passed since a razor glimpsed his chin or upper lip, yet the face reflected in the mirror was smooth as though freshly shorn. 

Could the curse actually be real? If so, what was it doing to him?

Evan’s heart started pounding in his chest. Curses aren’t real, he repeated to himself as he pulled up a selfie on his phone. The picture on his phone made him catch his breath. It looked like the face in the mirror, but there were subtle differences which should have been impossible.

The nose in the mirror was slightly smaller and straighter, the cheekbones more pronounced, making his eyes seem bigger. Moreover, his hairline moved down and the lips slightly more pronounced causing an effect which gave a more feminine cast to his original features. The changes were so slight he hadn’t noticed until he could see versions side by side.

The only possible explanation had to be the curse. If that was true, then he had to do something to stop this. Since it started when he began playing the song, maybe completing the song would free him from the curse, he reasoned. It made him even more determined to complete the song as not just his livelihood, but his body was on the line!

Filled with newfound resolve, he started towards the piano before spotting the box of Rita’s belongings and veering towards the bed. And just as he closed in, his pants dropped to his ankles and he nearly tripped. It wasn’t just his face. His whole body was changing!

Stepping out of his jeans with a huff of frustration, he dumped the box on the bed and surveyed the contents in underwear which barely hung on his emaciated hips. How had Evan not noticed how his body had changed? It was slender beyond even the most extreme weight loss regiment, but curvy… femininely so.

Cursing quietly, he turned attention to the box’s contents. A collection of 70’s era outfits lay atop Evan’s comforter. He could make out dresses, underwear, blouses, perhaps most of Rita’s wardrobe at the time of her passing. Useless for his purposes. 

A specific item caught his attention; A framed photograph of Rita at the piano. Based on the young woman’s age, it was likely taken shortly before her passing. She looked familiar, and not just because they were extended family. Certain elements, the way her eyes tilted, the angle of her nose… they were features he had recently discovered emerging on his own face!

That was the curse then. The unfinished song must have been turning Evan’s masculine body into Rita’s petite form! Evan felt the truth of it in his gut, he had to finish the song before this curse changed his body forever. 

There was no time to waste with Rita’s belongings, so he dug around the back of his dresser for an old, neglected pair of ripped jeans from highschool he had long ago outgrown. He still needed to cinch the waist using a necktie. Once he was properly covered, he returned to the piano to resume his work on the ending of “My Devotion”. With his manhood on the line he played with fierce determination.

It went terribly. Not only did he make little enough progress on the next stanza, he was tripped up on the basics of the song he believed had already been mastered.  He struggled through hours of difficulty before collapsing in exhaustion at the keyboard. 

The following morning, he was awakened by narrow slivers of golden sunlight filtering through the blinds. After a few groggy attempts whilst fighting a throbbing back pain he attributed to falling asleep at the piano, Evan slammed his hands down on the keys.

He stood with disgust and his pants dropped to his ankles once again. 

“FUCK!” he swore. 

At this rate, the song would never be finished. He needed to change something. Inspiration. He needed to find the mindset which allowed Rita to write the song originally. 

He lay on the bed to stretch out his back, wincing as the picture stabbed his back. He pulled it from under the arch of his back and studied the woman in the photograph. Evan could recognize the outfit she was wearing as one of the many outfits he had recently acquired. 

Inspiration. 

What if he dressed up in Rita’s clothes? It wasn’t much, but if she had written the song in authentic clothing of the time, maybe Evan could as well!

It wasn’t much of an idea, but it was better than banging his head against a wall, even if it meant he had to dress like a girl. 

Stripping off his clothes, Evan pondered the assortment of garments. He dismissed the underwear since, fortunately, his manhood was still intact. Hoping women’s panties weren’t the key to this particular puzzle, he found the same set of clothes Rita wore in the picture: A red, white and blue striped halter top which left his midriff bare and a high-waisted pair of bell bottoms. 

Evan felt utterly ridiculous and uncomfortable in the getup. The top hung loosely without breasts to fill it out. Worse, the pants were tight in the waist, yet loose in the hips, squeezing him uncomfortably, but they did, however poorly, fit. There was no risk of these falling off. He just had to cope with how ridiculous he must look in these ill-fitting women’s clothes. It made him glad there was no one around to see it.

However, as he sat down at the piano, a part of him dearly hoped the hunch was wrong and he’d continue to play just as poorly. But as he aced measure after measure of the song where earlier he’d tripped up, he sighed in resignation. Once he reached the end of the song, he stumbled on a cadence and a beat structure which formed a solid foundation for the remainder of the song, the biggest breakthrough in days. 

“I guess, I’m a crossdresser now,” Evan said aloud to the empty apartment as his voice cracked for the first time since his adolescence. He shivered in terror. “Time is running out.”

Another two weeks passed with slow progress. With testing, Evan found he played better and more consistently dressed in Rita’s clothes and grew used to wearing her outfits, although he avoided the dresses, skirts, and underwear, leaving the bras and panties laying haphazardly at the foot of the bed. Musically, although the existing song came easier, progress was agonizingly slow with his attempts to conclude the song.

Moreover, his body continued to change. Too slowly to observe, but he couldn’t help but notice Rita’s clothes were fitting more easily every day. Resisting the urge to compare his face to the selfie on his phone became a daily struggle. It felt like an endless march, an inevitable spiral towards oblivion. 

Then, there was a knock at his door.

Evan considered ignoring it, but he had just been playing the song. There was no doubt he was home, and no question he had heard the knock since it had interrupted the music. 

Silently cursing, he rose and opened the door before he remembered he was dressed like Rita in a deep-v tank top with floral print, skin tight, flared pants. 

“Hi, I’m Mark,” the stranger announced. ”I’m your upstairs neighbor.”

Evan studied Mark and searched his memory. He vaguely recalled seeing the man around the building before, but they had never spoken. 

“I’m Eva-,” he stuttered, trying to ignore the embarrassment of his outfit. 

“I heard the music and wanted to come down and say hello Eva,” Mark continued, his eyes lingering a little too long on Evan’s exposed midriff. 

“Uh, thanks,” Evan said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 

“So, what kind of music do you play?” Mark asked before he could correct his neighbor, stepping closer to Evan. 

“Just some classics, nothing too exciting,” Evan replied, trying to edge towards the door to end the conversation. 

Mark didn’t seem to take the hint, instead leaning in even closer. 

“Maybe you should play something for me,” he suggested, his hand reaching out to touch Evan’s arm. “I play a little myself!”

Evan froze, unsure of how to react. He had never been hit on by a man before, and he wasn’t sure how to process that information, if he wasn’t just misinterpreting the action altogether. 

“I don’t know,” he finally stammered, taking a step back. “I’m not really in the mood right now.”

Mark’s expression turned sullen, and Evan could tell the man felt rejected. Was this how it felt on the other side of asking someone out?

“Alright Eva, if you change your mind, I’m just upstairs,” Mark said, turning to leave. 

Evan let out a sigh of relief as he closed the door, his heart racing. He couldn’t believe he had just been hit on by a man, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. As he walked back to the piano, he couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with the curse, because it felt like some kind of lost opportunity. 

He sat down at the piano, focusing on the music to clear his mind. As he played, he felt a sudden surge of inspiration. It was like the veil had lifted, and he could see the end of the song clearly in his mind. 

With a newfound energy, Evan played through the entire song, his fingers moving effortlessly over the keys like never before- until as quickly as the sensation had arrived, it vanished. The step was gone, but the footprint it left behind was crystal clear. Evan would never finish the song alone.. It was a duet!

The realization left him shaking like a willow in a stiff breeze. Something in the song was changing him, and yet it didn’t matter compared to finishing the song. And if pretending to be a girl could make that dream happen, so be it. 

For the first time, Evan removed his clothes and reached for Rita’s still untouched underwear, intending to dress completely fem, but as he did, he caught sight of his reflection. He couldn’t help but stare in amazement at the changes happening to his body. His hair was longer, his face was softer, and his body had curves in all the right places. He couldn’t deny the appeal of it, regardless of the curse. A divinely feminine figure… almost completely. No wonder this cursed body had Mark’s attention.

“Eva” found a matching pair of bra and panties as he prepared to dress fully in Rita’s clothes. He slipped them on, admiring how they hugged his new curves despite a miniscule cock and balls which strained awkwardly against the fabric, and then reached for the dress hanging on the back of his closet door. It was a simple, short black dress with a V-neckline that showed off his cleavage which he was surprised to find he had! He slipped it over his head, feeling the fabric slide over his body, and turned to the mirror to admire the result.

He looked stunning. The dress accentuated all his best features, as a boyish, but feminine figure stared back from the mirror. In fact, looking down, it was hard to consider the person in this dress masculine at all.

Eva smiled at the face which resembled a mixture of Rita and Evan and decided to identify herself as a girl, at least while this ruse lasted and the song remained incomplete.

She glanced longingly at the earrings but without any piercings, she couldn’t do much in terms of accessories beyond a small locket which nestled between her still small breasts.

“Good enough,” she announced, pairing the dress with black heels which she found herself moving in quite naturally. Raising her hands to her neck, she was surprised her voice had grown even higher pitched.

Self-consciously, she exited the apartment and headed for the elevator, traveling the short distance one floor higher, standing outside the apartment which belonged to Mark!

Taking a deep breath, Eva knocked on the door, hoping Mark would answer and not someone else. The door opened after a few seconds, revealing Mark’s tall, muscular build. Eva couldn’t help but feel intimidated and vulnerable standing before him in her dress and heels.

“Hi, Mark,” she greeted him, her voice still higher pitched than she was used to. “I changed my mind. I’d like to play something for you.”

Mark’s eyes widened in surprise as he took in her appearance. “Wow, Eva,” he said, stepping aside to let her in. “You look…amazing.”

Eva shook her head, unused to both the praise and the way his eyes crawled up and down her skin in a surprisingly obvious way. Yet somehow she wasn’t bothered by it…

“Will you come back down to my apartment?” she asked, feeling bolder.

Mark nodded eagerly and she almost changed her mind, but stubbornly decided not to show any weakness. Evenstanding next to him silently as they waited for the elevator felt so embarrassing she thought she’d melt.

Finally leading her neighbor into the apartment, she sat back down at the piano, feeling a newfound confidence in her ability to play. She started playing the song again, but this time, she sang along with it. Her voice was smooth and sultry, with a hint of raspiness that only made it more alluring. Singing had never been Evan’s forte… the curse had not just changed her speaking voice, but her singing talent as well.

As she finished the song, she heard a soft applause from behind her. She turned to see Mark standing there, a smile on his face.

“You’re incredible,” he said, walking closer to her. “I had no idea you were such a talented musician.”

Eva blushed, feeling a strange mix of excitement and trepidation. His interest was totally transparent and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to lead Mark on or not to complete the song. But there was something about him that drew her in.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I guess I’ve been practicing a lot lately.”

Mark nodded, his eyes locked on hers. “You know, Eva, there’s something about you that I can’t quite put my finger on,” he said, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of her face. “You’re just so…captivating.”

Eva’s heart raced as Mark’s hand lingered on her cheek. She felt a sudden urge to kiss him, to feel his lips on hers. But at the same time, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

“I appreciate the compliment, Mark,” she said, pulling away slightly. “But I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Mark’s expression turned serious as he stepped closer, his eyes darkening with desire. “Why not, Eva?” he asked, his hand moving to her waist as he sat down beside her at the piano. “Don’t you feel the chemistry between us?”

Eva’s mind raced as Mark leaned in for a kiss, but she suddenly turned to the piano and began to play.

She couldn’t bring herself to look back into his large dark eyes, and she could barely hear the notes of the piano over the pounding of blood in her ears. Even so, her fingers found the correct notes.

Then something magical happened as Mark began to play beside her. Hesitant at first, then with increasing confidence, he played the lower notes in accompaniment, humming softly in perfect harmony. At least, until out of sheer shock she stopped playing, her heart threatening to leap from her chest.

“What the hell?” she gasped, turning to look at Mark, who was now standing rather than sitting beside her at the piano.

“I…I don’t know,” Mark said, looking equally as confused. “I thought you were playing alone.”

“I was,” Eva said. “At least, I think I was.”

Mark frowned in confusion and sat back down beside her at the piano. Then, Eva’s heart beat even faster as he continued to play the song from memory. It was as if the step from her imagination to the piano was no longer necessary. But how was that even possible? How could he replicate her playing off the notes sheet?

“I don’t know what’s happening,” Eva said, finally turning to face him, “but it’s incredible.”

Mark nodded, and smiling, leaned toward as if playing for another kiss. This time she closed her eyes and pursed her lips, caught up in the moment.

“I want you, Eva,” he said before their lips could meet. “There’s something about you I’ve never felt before. I can’t explain it, but I’ve never been so sure so quickly that-“

She silenced him with a kiss, her first with a man.

For an instant, she feared the kiss would disappoint her companion or that somehow he could tell the difference between her and a real woman. But then, as she felt his hand reach down to the swell of her ass, gently squeezing it while the other hand moved to the back of her head, keeping their lips locked together the sublime sensation of the kiss nearly overwhelmed her with a surge of new sensation.

She broke the kiss. “Take me to bed, Mark,” she said, her voice raspy with desire.

And he did.

He reached down, picking her up effortlessly and carrying her to the bedroom. Mark smiled broadly as he lowered her onto the bed. It was a hazy, dreamlike fog she found herself in, completely ignoring the voice in the back of her mind that questioned what she was doing. Her life might be a mess, and she might have been cursed into the body of a woman, but for the moment, Mark made all of that fade away.

It wasn’t until he was pulling the dress over her head when she remembered a bulge he was sure to notice, but as she looked down in panic she was surprised by a flat, fully feminine pelvis. And her breasts had grown too, filling out the bra to the point she was nearly spilling out of it! Moments later, Mark removed those too once he had stepped out of his own clothes, his rigid erection drawing her rapt attention as she lay in only her silken panties.

“Your body is perfect,” Mark announced, lowering her onto the bed. 

Eva smiled, a rush of confidence flowing through her. She felt sexy, desirable, sensual and in control. If there was one thing the curse had given to her, it was a desire to be a woman.

“So is yours,” she replied, her mouth watering. “I want to taste you.”

Mark joined her on the bed, kissing her passionately as his hands explored her body. He groaned, pulling back from the kiss. “God, I want you,” he said breathlessly.

Eva raised her hips, allowing him to remove her panties before he once again climbed atop her. Mark’s mouth claimed hers again and she moaned softly, pulling him closer. She wrapped her arms around him, her body arching as she felt the head of his cock brush against her sex. Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, it was inside of her.

Eva gasped, shuddering and moaning as he thrust in and out of her. Her fingers dug into  his muscular back and she pulled him to her for a deep kiss. The surreal sensation of a hardness inside a place she’d never had was mind-numbingly intense. 

Mark began to thrust harder, his cock filling her completely, the heat between her legs building to an unbearable intensity. She cried out, breaking their kiss to bury her face in his neck. Her fingernails scored his back, sending chills of pleasure through her. She felt one hand moving down her back and gasped when she felt his finger slip between her cheeks, teasing her tight ass.

“Do you want me to fuck you here too?” Mark asked, his voice strained.

“Yes,” Eva moaned, kissing his throat. A man was on top of her, asking to fuck her ass and pussy. And rather than repellant, it was transcendent. He seemed to read every contour of her body, playing HER like an instrument and it was making such beautiful music inside her!

Mark pulled his cock out of her pussy, marveling at the sight of her swollen lips and wetness that coated it. He reached for a condom on the nightstand once intended for Evan’s own cock, tearing it open and rolling it onto his erection. He mounted her, the tip of his cock brushing the slippery lips of her pussy before slowly pushing into her pussy again while with a finger plunging in her ass. She gasped, her body tensing for a moment before relaxing again as he slid all the way inside.

“Eva, you’re so beautiful,” Mark said, raising himself above her.

“You make me feel so good,” she said, her hands moving to his hips.

Mark smiled, tilting his hips forward, causing her to gasp slightly at the sensation as he slid in a little deeper. “I want to make you feel good again and again,” he said, thrusting in time with his words.

Eva was moaning loudly, her moans and cries filling the room. “Oh, God, Mark!” she cried, feeling her whole body climbing to a frenzy of pleasure.

“Oh yeah,” she said, “Don’t stop!”

Mark growled and thrust harder, his cock rubbing her sensitive clit as he slammed into her. “Eva!” he yelled, coming inside of her. He lowered himself, panting heavily as he kissed her.

“You’re amazing,” Eva said, cradling his head against her breasts.

Mark laughed. “You can say that again.”

She giggled, stroking his hair. “You’re amazing,” she repeated.

Mark smiled and kissed her. “You’re amazing.”

She raised her hips and felt his cock slide from her pussy with a wet pop. “You’re still hard,” she said, gazing into his eyes.

Mark nodded, kissing her again. “I am. Think you can take more?”

Eva smiled and kissed him again. “I think I can take whatever you’ve got.”

Mark’s eyes sparked with excitement and he reached into the nightstand for another condom, but Eva knew there was only one… but she NEEDED him inside her again. Having a pussy felt incredible, but she was buzzing with anticipation.

When he looked at her and shrugged, she said, “Again, raw.”

Mark nodded eagerly and she lifted her hips, reaching down to guide him inside her once again. He thrust immediately, his hardness digging deep into her. She groaned as he filled her and she felt his cock pulsing against her inner walls. She was panting heavily, her eyes closed, her fingers digging into his back.

“Open your eyes,” Mark said, his own eyes boring into hers.

She did, and she gazed deeply at him. She felt his cock swelling, filling her even more. She felt it move inside her, felt it stretching her tight canal, felt her body flutter around it. She felt her orgasm building, and reaching up, she brushed his hair back.

“I love you,” she said, amazed to find she truly felt it!

“I love you, Eva,” he replied, his voice soft and gentle. “I love you more than I ever thought possible.”

He kissed her tenderly, his hand lifting one of her legs onto his shoulder letting him plunge impossibly deep within.

She felt his cock press against her once more, sliding into her pussy without a break. She moaned softly and wrapped her arm around his head.

“You’re so tight,” he said, moving slowly in and out of her.

Eva nodded, feeling his cock stretch her pussy. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her body suffused with pleasure. “Don’t stop,” she whispered. “I’m so close.”

Mark nodded, thrusting into her hard with his hips. “You feel so good!” he exclaimed.

Eva moaned as his cock drove into her again, her pussy already clenching down at the thought of another incredible orgasm. “Mark!” she cried, her body shaking with pleasure. She felt his cock thicken and realized he was close too. Her pussy clenched down even harder and she felt the warmth of his semen filling her.

“Oh, God, Eva,” Mark moaned.

“Mark,” she said, gasping for breath. Her eyes were closed, her fingers still buried in his hair. She felt her pussy squeeze his cock hard. “Mark, I’m cumming… again!”

He grunted and her pussy walls clenched down hard on his cock, the heat of his cum filling her, expanding the head of his cock and driving it deep into her.

“Oh, Eva,” Mark groaned. “Oh, fuck!”

She felt his cock twitch and pulse inside her, filling her with cum. Her pussy clenched down on it, holding it deep within her. She felt so full and warm, shudders of pleasure running through her.

“You are amazing,” Mark said, kissing her shoulder.

“I have you to thank,” she said, still panting.

They were both breathing hard, their bodies still joined as she felt his cock slowly begin to soften.

“That was incredible,” Mark whispered.

“It was,” Eva agreed, her eyes half lidded and a warm smile on her face.

Mark’s cock slipped from her pussy and he rolled onto his side, his arms still wrapped around her.

Eva curled up against him and kissed his cheek. “Mark, I’m so glad you came over today, for everything!”

Mark’s fingers stroked her back. “Me too.”

She lay in his arms reveling in the new sensations still coursing through her veins before they both fell into a blissful slumber.

Eva awoke suddenly to a startling revelation.

“I know how to finish the song!” she thought excitedly. Mark who snored softly behind her flinched but didn’t wake as she moved his arm which draped over her waist casually and placed it beside him, resisting the urge to stare at his toned body, dimmed in the early evening light.

Carefully she snuck back into the living room, sat down at the table and, with a feverish pace, she transcribed note after note from her mind. Panting, nude, except for the locket around her neck, she looked down at the completed song.

With unaccountable surety, she knew that waking Mark, and completing the song would return her to her original body. Excitedly she rushed to the bedroom, music in hand, as the last rays of light filtered through the blinds.

“Mark, get up!”

He stirred slowly and looked up at her with pale blue eyes which threatened to swallow her up. He stretched, eyeing her up and down.

“What’s up?” he asked with a yawn.

Suddenly she didn’t feel like playing music even as the sensation of semen trickling down her leg roused her awareness. He was hard again.

“What’s up?, Mark asked again, this time grinning seductively.

Eva looked at the papers one last time before crumpling them up and tossing them behind the dresser.

“This time, I want to try being on top,” she said finally.

Before climbing atop his burgeoning erection she removed the locket tossing it to the floor. It fell open revealing two lovers in embrace. A woman who looked a lot like Eva, was gazing adoringly at a man who might easily be mistaken for her bed mate. But Eva was too preoccupied to spare it a look, enjoying the symphony of pleasure which she hoped would never…

END.

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