Strange Saturday!, Part 9 (Platonic Friends to TG’d Couple)

By FoxFaceStories

A Commission for AnubisForever

Luke and Ava are two platonic friends who confess their feelings of unhappiness with their bodies while attending a music festival together. But when they make a wish to be their ‘true selves’, they quickly find out that not only can wishes come true, but they can come true in utterly unexpected ways! Now stuck as Luna and Aidan, the pair must grapple with their changed identities and strange new feelings for one another, all while exploring their newfound existences, and bodies . . .

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Part 9: Regrets

I woke up to three different things.

The first was the harsh light of midday, rather than morning.

The second was the realisation that I had a splitting headache, and had definitely overdone it on the alcohol last night, despite what I had thought.

And the third . . . 

The third was Aidan’s naked body, curled around me, one hand planted firmly but comfortably on my breast, the other brushing against my butt which was against the mattress. I could feel his manhood against me, sitting in the crevice of my ass as he spooned me. I was unbelievably comfortable.

But my mind was already whirring, even through the headache. What the fuck had I done? Holy shit, we had slept together. I know we went out for our cute little ‘not-date’ but I’d never intended things to go this far! Images flashed back into my mind of what had gone down: the teasing that had become flirting, the honest conversation that had veered into the sensual, the alcohol that had unexpectedly broken down barriers, and, of course, the moment when our lips had locked and the deal had been sealed.

And then what had followed . . . 

It was like some kind of dream. A nightmare and a fantasy rolled into one. I had really let Aidan have sex with me. No, that wasn’t putting it right. It wasn’t something he had just done. Nor had I just let him. I had been an active participant. I’d actually made love to him, spread my legs for him, and bucked my hips as he thrusted into me. He’d cum inside me and we’d showered together, giggled, and gone to bed together, still holding one another. We’d done that. 

I’d done that.

And worse of all, for all that my actions now disgusted me, for all that I had a painful headache and way too much light sensitivity, the thought of his hard cock penetrating me again and again was enough to make me feel wet, right now. My nipple hardened against my palm, and I actually shifted my rear several times, sliding against his unconscious form, as if willing his member to harden.

And it did.

Slowly, but surely, his length began to extend, pressing between my cheeks and taking on that brilliant girth from last night. My heart raced, and while I knew I should stop, something compelled me to keep going. The sensation of it was too good. I just had to stop myself before he woke u-

“Luna?”

I rocketed out of bed so fast that my chest hurt from the heavy bouncing. I quickly grabbed as much of the sheet as possible and covered my body with it, though its thinness probably gave a silhouetted impression.

“Aidan! You scared the shit out of me!”

He was groggy, clutching his head as well. He looked over himself, and I could see the same set of realisations passing over his mind as they had mine just minutes ago. 

“Hold the horses,” he said, his drawl a big more ragged than usual. “Last night . . . die we?”

“We did,” I said.

“And then we-”

“That too.”

“And we went to-”

“Bed together, yeah.”

He blinked several times, as if processing this new reality.

“Uh, how do we, uh, feeling about that, honey?”

“Don’t call me honey. I just . . . don’t.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean nothing by it, Luna.”

“And that’s not my name either! I’m meant to be Luke. God, what were we thinking?” It all exploded out of me. “It was just meant to be a little outing like we used to always do. Something platonic. But you brought a fucking picnic, Aidan. Ava. A romantic picnic and watching a romantic film and then we both got tipsy or even drunk and then had sex. We fucking fucked together. What the hell were you thinking? What the hell was I thinking? We shouldn’t have done that. We shouldn’t be doing any of this.”

Aidan stepped around the bedside, covering himself just a little. 

“Luna, calm down.”

“Don’t call me Luna! And don’t tell me to calm down!” I yelled. Tears leaked down my eyes. “This is all too much. I need - I need to get some air. All of this was a mistake, Aidan. Ava. I shouldn’t have you living here. You need to go elsewhere.”

His expression became crestfallen, and for a moment something almost seemed to break in my heart. I managed, just barely, to harden myself against that.

“Please,” I said. “Can we just separate for a bit. This wasn’t meant to happen. I need time.”

Aidan nodded, his eyes sorrowful but his gaze understanding.

“Of course, Lun - Luke. Of course. If that’s what you need. Uh, I might need some time to shower and clean up and-”

“Yeah, of course,” I said, repeating his words. “Don’t skip breakfast either. I just need time to process all of this. I . . . I wasn’t myself last night.”

Again, he nodded, but no more words were given. I sidled past him.

“I’m going to shower. Just me,” I said.

“Obviously,” he replied, but then another realisation visibly struck him, of us showering together last night, touching one another.

I moved to the bathroom with some new clothing before any more words could be exchanged. I didn’t want to think about that image any further, either.

***

Aidan was all packed up and ready to leave. I was surprised at how much of his stuff, from his cameras and photos to his clothing and bathroom amenities, had slowly but comfortably found their way to my home. We had been together for pretty much the entire period of our change, and had only a little over a month to go before we could, theoretically, beseech the strange entity to turn us back. By coincidence, just as Aidan was taking the last of his things out the door to his car, the TV was announcing that the comet - Kallen’s Comet, as they were calling it - was set to return in that period, just as expected. We both briefly stopped to watch the news, and the announcer seemed to almost be in on the joke that was our lives.

“So for any of you that missed this astounding meteorological and cosmological event the first time, or for those of you who simply want another chance to wish upon the most impressive shooting star you’ll ever see, make sure to keep your eyes peeled on the forecast, because Kallen’s Comet is confirmed to be coming back.”

I looked at Aidan, trying to ignore that surprisingly handsome beard. He nodded.

“A month and ten days,” he said.

“A month and ten days,” I repeated.

“Are we living separate for that whole time?”

“It’d be best, yeah. Just in case.”

“Are we going to see one another?”

I bit my lip. I hadn’t even gone through those details myself, in fact. “Let’s just take a week or two and see how things go. I’m sure you need to take some captures for some events, get your nature shoots in as well. And this period is when the bank gets really busy. Lots of old grandmas and grandpas are coming back from cruises and want to get their balances in order. It’ll be time for us to cool off.”

“See where we stand with each other?”

The question caught me off guard. “We’re just friends, Aidan. I know recent . . . events made it seem like more, but we’re just friends.”

Again, that stoic cowboy’s nod. “Of course,” he said. “I just thought . . . nevermind. I’ll get out of your hair, now. I’m sorry this all happened, Lu . . . well, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to go this way, I swear. But I have to say my piece before I go: for what it’s worth, I don’t regret it. I know we were both into it. I don’t regret it at all.”

“Well, I do regret it, Aidan. I really do.”

He gave a wan smile. “Then I’ll give you all the time to need. I just hope we can still be close.” He stepped out onto the porch, and for a moment looked ready to go, but then he turned and faced me one last time.

“y'all told me this morning - this midday, whatever - that you weren’t yourself last night.”

“I wasn’t,” I said, crossing my arms.

“The thing is, I was myself, Luna. Just let me call you Luna this one time, please. I was myself. I think I was more myself than I’ve been in years, believe it or not. And, at least I feel this way, you were yourself too. y'all always talk about how much you lack passion, and want to find meaning, well, you seemed to find passion and meaning last night, at least from my perspective. Maybe something to chew on in the field of thought while I’m gone.”

And with that, he left the porch, got in his car, and gave one last wave. My own wave back was half-hearted, though not from any apathy on my part.

Something about his words rang truer than they should’ve, and I didn’t like that.

Not one bit.

***

I returned to work, and found it a good way to clear my thoughts of the acts I had taken part in. I occasionally dreamed of having Aidan, or some other man, thrusting inside me, and when I woke I still had to ‘sort myself’ out, much to my own (sexual) frustration. The only solution seemed to be to throw myself further into work, taking on matters that I could have easily delegated to others, or passed up to higher powers beyond our branch office. Jacob was a class act of an adjutant as always, getting my coffee just the way I liked it, or at least how the Luna me liked it. I continued to wear my professional female getup, even applying lipstick and light touches of makeup elsewhere. I could do those things because I knew that this was just temporary, and that I was just playing a role. It was what people expected of me, but it would not last forever. I could be a working automaton, enjoy my better relationships with the staff and particularly the women at the bank, and use that to push the fact that I’d had sex as a woman far, far, far to the back of my mind.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pass the Handlen account to someone else?” Jacob asked me. “He’s normally covered by Vance. She gets along with him, too, and your workload is really, really quite piling up, Luna.”

“No, I can handle Handlen,” I said, chuckling a little at the accidental joke. “I’ve trying to ignore some shit going on at home.”

“Ooh, gossip?”

“Not in your dreams, kid. Just relationship stuff.”

“This that Aidan fella?”

I widened my eyes. “How do you know about Aidan?”

“Oh, I don’t . . . much. The girls sometimes run a betting pool about when you’ll get together with that supposedly ‘platonic’ best friend of yours. I heard about it last week.”

I frowned. “That pack of hyenas. Those Judases. It’s funny, I went to the drive-in with a friend recently and saw a film that opens with the line that women and men can’t be friends, because sex always gets in the way.”

Jacob arched an eyebrow, and I knew I’d given too much away.

“And is this what happened?”

I rolled my eyes. “Go home, Jacob. It’s five PM. I’m staying late tonight.”

“Don’t work yourself too hard!”

But I did. It was the only way to keep my bearings; by ironically keeping myself so exhausted that reaching out to Aidan was an impossibility. It wasn’t just the sex either, but the connection I had increasingly felt towards him. To tell the truth, while the fact that I had allowed myself to be fucked as a woman played big in my mind, and certainly bruised my vestigial male ego, my mind actually drifted to our date far more. I kept dreamily thinking of that lovely picnic that Aidan had prepared while we watched When Harry Met Sally, and the way I actually gave myself over to my feminine emotions without shame, and how he had comforted me throughout. It made me feel all gooey and warm, which was just what I was afraid of.

Still, work provided a release from such concerns, even if it didn’t give me satisfaction. The wish may have given me a new life, but had it really given me the one I wanted? I wasn’t just thinking about being female either, but the fact that I had the same job with its own accompanying malaise. I received an email informing me that a possible position overseeing multiple branch offices would soon be available, an advanced notice from one of my contacts higher up the food chain who owed me a favour. I even had a good chance of getting it, if I prepared and got my affairs in order and made the right emails to the right people. And yet . . .

And yet I couldn’t bring myself to even do that. I could work as hard and late as needed in order to try to push myself past what I internally referred to as ‘the Incident,’ but that didn’t translate to any actual enthusiasm. The fact that as a woman I was apparently a better branch manager than ever didn’t really help me, because I still wasn’t inspired to do anymore than I had. I was, effectively, on autopilot.

“Damn it all,” I said as I finally clocked out after a full working week. “I need a break. From all of it.”

But how could I even get one? I was, by my own choices, all on my own.

***

The second week passed without incident, but also without interest. Aidan messaged me occasionally during this time, and I gave him respectful but brief replies. It would often go something like this:

Aidan: How u going?

Luna: I’m fine

Aidan: Do you still need more time.

Luna: Sorry.

Luna: Yes, I do.

Luna: I’ve just got a lot in my head right now.

Aidan: U know it’s the guy who is supposed to be the 1 who struggles to talk, right? And the woman who always wants to talk?

Luna: Probably because I’m NOT a woman. We’ve been over this.

Aidan: Sorry, a joke. Look, I’m heading out for brunch. Did you want to come? We don’t have to talk about anything big. Just catch up.

Aidan: Like old times.

Aidan: U there?

Luna: Sorry, I just need more time.

Luna: Work is really busy now.

Aidan: Ok. Offer stands tho.

And indeed, the offers kept coming, but I continued to rebuff him. I felt bad. Aidan was my oldest friend, even if he was a man right now. And yes, we’d had sex, but we’d nearly had a friends-with-benefits thing ages ago before it all fizzled. We were drunk and desperate then too, it just hadn’t eventuated (I ended up vomiting before anything could happen, as I recall, and it wasn’t like we were each other’s type, really). No, it wasn’t Aidan’s fault; it was mine. I wasn’t comfortable as myself around him. If I was being truly honest with myself, it was because I was afraid that I would go all Luna around him. End up staring at his forearms and get swept up in that male rustic charm he now possessed. I couldn’t let myself be weak again.

I couldn’t let myself be vulnerable. That way led to . . . well, it led to a level of womanhood I didn’t dare venture into a second time.

But as much as I tried to, I couldn’t throw myself into work completely. I still had my weekends and afternoons, and while I was a bit reclusive, I couldn’t resist my female intuition entirely. So yes, I will not lie, I did watch the BBC production of Pride and Prejudice, and the film version starring Keira Knightley. And I won’t lie again; I did cry when the confession came.

“You have bewitched me body and soul.”

“God, why is it hitting so hard!”

I blamed my female hormones, but the fact that I was also wearing comfortable pink pyjamas and eating tubs of ice cream only made me feel even more like a total stereotype. I tried to compensate by watching some classic action movies, and thankfully still found I loved Indiana Jones and The Raid 2, but the human element of the stories also appealed to me more, and Harrison Ford in his prime was . . . something else. It made me think of Aidan, which immediately made me quickly switch to something else.

I decided to deal with the garden, an issue I’d been ignoring for a while. It gave me an excuse to wear my cute overalls and more practical gear, but after two weeks where I only wore makeup for work, I found myself deciding to go “ah, fuck it” and wear some of the stuff I had purchased alongside Aidan. It reminded me of him, of course, but it was a level I was more comfortable with. And besides, I had gotten used to being good looking and taking care of my appearance more, and it was a practice I wanted to get used to maintaining even as I became a man again. I hoped that this wasn’t just an excuse on my part.

There were other distractions as well. I was evidently a little more social in this new life of mine as a woman, because a number of female friends on my phone were contacting me to catch up as well, mainly from work. And given that I was a woman for another month still, and I was starting to feel a bit lonely from my self-imposed isolation, I took them up on the opportunity for a few brunches here and there.

“She finally emerges from her twilight cave!” announced Heather when I arrived for our first get-together.

“At least you look lovely, Luna,” Kiera said. “We had a running bet that you’d developed claws and stooped back and some kind of moustache.”

“Oh, har har,” I said, sitting down with them. In truth, I’d fetched a short and cute blue dress over casual denim jeans and done my makeup just so in order to look quite good, just in case I got this very reception. I ended up having an accidental 1970’s style look to myself, though it didn’t exactly look bad either. “I’ve just been going through stuff.”

“Yes, I hear down the grapevine that you and Aidan are no longer speaking. What’s up with that?”

I suddenly remembered that Heather’s husband was Dave, who liked to go fishing. I used to be closer to Dave than Heather, but fishing was a hobby that Ava had liked, and presumably still did as Aidan. Did that mean that in this reality, Dave and Aidan had caught up, and this information had transmitted along? Judging from Heather’s smile, I assumed the connection I had made was right.

“We just had a . . . disagreement.”

“Ooh!” Jessica squeaked, piping up. “Would this be a . . . romantic disagreement?”’

I blushed, tried to play it off with a smile, and went to change the subject.

“Oh, you know how these things go. It’s all very boring. So what’s happening with you three? Heather, that hat is amazing!”

“Isn’t it just? It’s part of my Sicilian prep trip! Getting ready for that Tuscan sun as well, when we travel up to mainland Italy.”

She regaled us with her plans for a mediterranean holiday with her husband, and that thankfully took the heat off of me, at least for a bit. Occasionally the subject reared its ugly head and I had to put it down, but even when the food arrived and I drank my sweet vanilla latte, I found it hard not to let the moody clouds crowd in on my thoughts. Why couldn’t I be honest with these new friends of mine? In less than a month, they wouldn’t be my true friends anymore, so there wasn’t any risk, right? 

“To hell with it, then,” I finally said. “I’ll spill the beans.”

Jessica was just chatting about an issue she was having with an annoying neighbour regarding their new fenceline, but she stopped dead silent and leaned forward.

“Tell us!” she proclaimed.

And I did. I told them the whole story. I didn’t go into detail, of course, but I did give them the basic outline, no mistruths or information spared - other than the fact that I had been transformed into a woman by a multidimensional alien living inside a comet, of course. I spoke about how we had experienced this lingering tension lately, including a physical attraction that had not been there before (for reasons I couldn’t explain, of course, but I was able to frame this as almost like an ‘awakening’ of sorts, which I didn’t feel was telling a lie or even a mistruth). I covered our desire to go on a not-date, and this surprised them with how I phrased it - they were under the impression we were a lot closer already, and I should have seen this coming - we had been living together, after all! I explained this as part of our way of keeping company, but I’m not entirely sure they believed it. Certainly, Heather had assumed we were “already boning,” to put it in her crude way.

So then I told them about the date, and how it had gone, and the accompanying film and picnic, and Jessica actually put on a fake swoon, stating that she wished her own partner went to such lengths. Evidently, they all thought it was a deeply romantic night that Aidan had arranged.

“That’s just the problem,” I explained. “It wasn’t meant to be. It was . . . it felt like a betrayal of trust. But also not. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

I then told them, much more briefly, that we had gone back to my place, had veered from tipsy but legal enough to drive all the way to most certainly not. In our drunken states we had given over to our passions, and finally made love. And that we had gone to bed together, and it was only in the morning that I realised what we had done and effectively kicked him out. It was strange, pouring all this out to women who should have been total strangers to me. That memory effect of the change did help - I was able to  understand that we did these dates often, and know what subjects were right and what subjects were not when talking to them, but it was more than that. In becoming a woman, I had found it so much easier to simply spill out my soul to close company, to vent and cry (yes, I was getting teary-eyed, and Kiera had to lend me a handkerchief so I could wipe my eyes. It was surprisingly refreshing to be able to confide, and to have confidants at all. Heather and Jessica gave me sidehugs, and the outpourings of affection, even the slight teasing, was hard to take.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Heather said. “Can I tell you my take on this? You’re not going to like it, but I think I’ve got the heart of the matter.”

“Better listen to her,” Kiera said. “She’s the group psychologist, remember?”

I chuckled, wiping away the last of the tears. “I doubt you can really know the heart of the matter, but sure, shoot.”

Heather took a sip of her coffee, then discreetly wiped her mouth with her napkin before settling herself. I was getting the distinct sense that my new friend was one for Drama, capital D.

“Here’s how I see it, Luna. You’ve been single for a long time, wanting that perfect man but not ever really knowing who it would be, or should be. You’ve had this perfect idea in your head, and no one matches up. It’s the reason you were never with Aidan before, despite - in my view, and I think everyone else’s - the fact that you two are perfect for each other. And perhaps he’s been the same. For whatever reason though, you’ve left it at being friends. 

“Now, suddenly, something has changed. I don’t know it’s you entering your thirties, or something just clicked on one of your Saturday outings, or perhaps the loneliness creeping in that we all feel from time to time. But you chatted with Aidan, and you both decided to move in together, to keep each other company. Like roommates! Am I wrong so far?”

I hesitated. “That’s not entirely it, but . . . I guess you’re not entirely wrong.”

She grinned, eyes gleaming with victory. Kiera and Jessica nodded, as if they were listening to a sage woman give her prophecy. 

“But it’s all gone wrong,” Heather continued. “Because it turns out that perfection is just that; some mythical ideal that no one can live up to! And it also turns out that this outdoorsy, bearded fellow with a Southern drawl may not be the kind of intellectual, academic type or whatever that you were into, but my, now that you’re spending time with him, it turns out he’s a bit of a hunk. And let’s face it, darling, you’re quite the damn looker yourself. So both of you are getting comfortable, and realising there’s an attraction, and for anyone else in the world this would be a totally normal thing, right? Just totally normal, and good, and healthy, and - I’m just gonna throw this out there because I can be a total fiend - sexy as well. But you have both asserted that this friendship is platonic, and that you shouldn’t be together, and that you’re just friends.

“But Aidan is the first to crack. He takes you out on this not-date, hoping you’ll see things another way, or at least be open to a relationship. And he thinks it works, and it does! You have a great time, you find him attractive, one thing leads to another, and then it’s the horizontal monster mash in the bedroom.”

“We did it on the floor, actually.” I said without thinking. I immediately cringed as the others giggled like schoolgirls.

“Hot,” Jessica said. “I used to do that with Brent, until he got a damn dog. Now it’s all shed hair on the carpet, so no thanks.”

I looked to Heather, who was appraising me still.

“You don’t know all the details,” I said. “And it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve got regrets.”

“Do you?” she asked, staring me down. “Or do you just think you should have regrets, because that’s the guidelines you’ve put in your head. Aidan is your friend, he’s not your lover. And since he was briefly the latter, now you’ve got to jam him back into that box to feel in control of things.”

I puzzled on this, taking a sip of my own very sweet coffee. “I don’t . . . I don’t know if that’s exactly it. I can’t explain it all, but I felt far too . . . feminine with him. Like I was allowing myself to be a woman, when I’m not that kind of . . . gal.”

It was a weak finish. It wasn’t like I could exactly tell the truth here. But Heather had her teeth bared, sinking them into the meat of the issue, and she wasn’t letting it go anytime soon.

“So what? Most of the women on the planet wished they could have a man who made them feel like a woman, and most of all they can be safely vulnerable around. Look, I’m not saying you have to be with Aidan-”

“I am!” Kiera piped in, before Jessica shushed her.

“-but I am saying that you should try another not-date with him, and see if the feelings that led to that horizontal carpet mash were real or not. You are clearly torn up about this, but I don’t want you to regret your regrets, honey. You work so hard and never seem happy. Were you happy on the date? Hell, were you happy when you got some?”

Nothing could stop my blush at that moment. The truth sunk deep.

“I was,” I admitted, looking down, unable to look her in the eyes. “I, um, I was pretty damn happy, actually. Nervous, scared, but . . . happy.”

Heather raised her cup of coffee as if it were a victorious cup of red wine raised after a battlefield success. “And there you have it,” she declared, her voice louder and full of puffed up authority. “Patient thoroughly dissected. I’ll take my payment via EFTPOS, thank you very much.”

I laughed, and thankfully the conversation moved on there, led by Heather of all people. But from the way she kept giving me wry little looks, I suspected she knew exactly what she was doing. She didn’t want to press the advantage and spoil things, but instead left me to mull over what she had said with deep consideration.

And I was.

Good God, was I ever.

To Be Continued . . .