Work Crush - Part 7

 

It's been a few months now, since I gave up on ever getting my old body back. Nadia is probably still screwing my ex-girlfriend every night. After all, she seems to love being a guy now and forever.

I don't mind being a woman, either. And the prospect of forever –the suggestion of complete intoxication from living and breathing and feeling as a woman this beautiful, with no chance of ever not simply being this woman ever again– makes my heart beat out of my chest.

I've given up at getting back at her, having embraced my newfound identity. We exchange glances and say hi in the hallways at work, yet nothing more. He lives his life and I'm living mine.

I've set up a Tinder profile. Woman, 30, looking for men ages 28-40. I posted some old photos of Nadia on my profile. It's fun trying to imagine what it might've been like if I was the one having my photo taken back then. Now I'm just stealing her experiences and framing them as my own.

I was looking through Nadia's phone, trying to piece together the stories around each of these photos, so I could at least be able to talk about it if my date would ask me. One of the photos was taken on a trip to Hawaii. It was the old Nadia, dressed in her sleep wear, kissing her ex-boyfriend in a hotel room.

I shuffled promiscuously through her closet. There it was: my sleep wear. I stripped down and threw the garments on my new body. I looked in the mirror and tried to incorporate the memory as my own, This is what you kissed me in. You fucked me so hard with your big cock. I was moaning so loudly, and you were afraid the neighbors would hear us. But then you kept fucking me, until we both came at the same time. It's a real shame we had to break up. Now I have to find myself a new man.