Ski Trip Conversion

Ski Trip Conversion

By StacyInLove

There was an ice storm on the way to the cabin. The Vermont mountain wasn't the most challenging, but it helped us to afford the two-week package between semesters if we all crammed in. Missing being home for the holidays was even part of the plan. We figured that the slopes would be emptier.

There were going to be twelve of us jammed into four rooms. Five girls to split two of the rooms... seven of us guys would jam into the other two. I went up with Jack in his car. We started before sunrise to eek every possibly moment of skiing before the freezing rain caught us.

The fender bender wasn't even that bad... but I was devastated. Unlike Jack's stuff, which was mostly crammed in the back, my things had been tied to the roof with the skis. We were actually lucky that the guardrail caught us.

Jack stared from the ravine to me.

"There's no freekin' way!"

"Come on Jack. That's all my stuff!"

"It WAS your stuff. Face it man... it's gone. I mean... look. I think that's half a ski right there."

He was right. A good hundred feet down on the jagged icy rocks was a part of a ski. It might have been his or mine... but it didn't matter. He was right. There was no way either of us could have attempted the cliff even without the coating of ice.

"Now what am I going to do?"

"Borrow some clothes. Rent some skis."

"Easy for you to say," I said staring down the deep ravine and shivering.

"Shit Brian. I'm freezing. Let's just get in the car and get there already."

The warmth of the car's heater was welcomed, but I was totally bummed. I was a struggling student without two pennies to rub together. I had worked extra hours at the campus grease pit and saved every cent just to be able to go with everyone. I couldn't afford to rent replacement skis like Jack. My ski-pass for the two weeks was in my bag too... along with my clothes.

Jack gave me some comfort on the tail of our drive. I could borrow enough clothes and wash out enough things to wear. They might be a little baggy on me, but I'd get by. He couldn't do it all himself, but Jack was sure that the gang could pitch in to spot me enough money for rentals and a new ski-pass too.

The cabin was on the mountain. We got there about the time for the slopes to run... but it didn't matter. The freezing rain was coming down hard and everything was shut down. Being the first ones to get to the cabin, Jack and I staked out the best room... not that I had anything to unpack myself. Basically, I put my coat on a bed to claim it.

The rest of the gang trickled in, but the ice didn't just tag me and Jack. Chloe and Rachel were the last to arrive (a little after lunch)... but they weren't as lucky with their "fender bender". Rachel had a cast on her arm... and a pronounced limp.

"Don't be an idiot Brian. I'm not going to use it."

"But it's a girl's pass."

"It'll match my skis. So what? You wear a hat and keep your goggles on at the lifts. Who's going to know?"

"But it's all so... pink."

Rachel's ski-pass was already stuck on top of the thick layers of prior passes to the clip of her jacket... a very fitted pink down "Ike- Jacket". There was no way that the pass could be removed and stuck to my coat. Like at other mountains, the pass was not meant to be removed and "shared". To further restrict people's ability to avoid buying their own passes... Rachel's ticket was pink like all the other girls'.

I could fit into her jacket a little too easily. I could fit into her pink ski-boots and skis too. Sure. I could fake my way onto a lift with Rachel's girl's pass... but I'd have to ski down the trails with all that girlish pink on me.

But everyone seemed to think it was a better idea to use Rachel's unneeded things than for me to needlessly have to work-off borrowed money for a new pass and rentals. It really did make sense, but I felt a need to resist anyway.

"But what about between runs... You know... like when we're in the lodge grabbing lunch and stuff?"

"So you'll be in pink. So what?"

"People are going to think I'm a chick... or worse... like I'm a guy wearing girl's stuff."

"Is that what you're moaning about?"

"Well... Yeah."

The whole gang was around. Janet's critical eye made me feel a little uncomfortable... but not nearly as much as when she opened her mouth.

"Then wear Rach's ski pants too. No one'll suspect a thing."

In retrospect, I probably should have just come out and said something about wearing her pants at all... instead of talking about how I'd look in them.

"Uh... Earth to Janet. I'm pretty sure things won't look... ah... right... in snow-bunny pants."

Aside from not having the kind of girlish curves that make ski-pants look so great on them... I was sure that lumps in the front would look more than a little odd.

Basically ignoring me though, Janet turned to the other girls.

"We're not skiing today anyway. Why don't we run into town to do a little shopping? A little padding and a tight body-shaper might do the trick on him."

"What are you talking about?!" I interrupted nervously.

Janet giggled just a little when she said, "Making you look... ah... right... in snow-bunny pants."

"There's no way I'm..."

"If we can make you look good in them... will you wear them?"

I thought for a moment. I was absolutely convinced that there was no way to hide my lumps and make me look anything remotely passable in tight girl's ski-pants.

"You're wasting your money. Why not put it towards rentals and a new pass for me?"

Greg added, "Or beer!"

Chloe jumped in with, "Don't be ridiculous Brian. Rachel can't use her pass or skis. Do you WANT to throw your money away and work... god... a bazillion hours to pay everyone back? We're just talking about fitting you into ski pants."

"GIRL'S ski pants," I corrected.

"Big deal. Girl's ski pants to go with the girl's pass. It'll help you get away with it."

"But..."

"Yes or no Brian? If you look OK in Rachel's pants... will you wear them?"

Convinced that I wouldn't... and that the idiocy of the discussion would then be over... I stupidly said yes.

Janet seemed to brighten and re-grabbed the girls' attention.

"OK ladies... Let's shop!"

After they trounced out... Bob dove into the fridge to pass around the first of many beers. Bill was the one who made the first laughing toast.

"To the new girl!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I said a little too defensively.

"Dude. They seemed pretty psyched about the whole pink-pass thing. I'm just saying..."

"Saying what?" I challenged without taking a sip to that toast.

Greg jumped in, "That you'd better get used to the idea of wearing pink Man."

The other guys laughed a little too hard as their beer cans met. They chugged them down and were headed for more before I took my first swallow.

The girls were gone a long time... and I eventually joined into the heavy drinking. It was clear that the whole idea bothered me so (of course) my friends took the opportunity to rib me even more. Someone dubbed me "Stacy"... which only stuck more after I made a stink about it.

We were all pretty wasted when the girls finally did come back. Being small enough to fit Rachel's things in the first place... I was probably even more smashed than the others.

I vaguely remember cheers as I was pulled into one of the girl's rooms. I was too drunk to do anything but smile as they stripped my pants and slid up a tight Lycra panty (when girl's fingers briefly tugged my "things" back between my legs). There was a tight girdle-ish thing pulled up next... with padding over the hips and ass. Another tight girdle-ish thing (that someone called a body shaper) seemed to make those curves even smoother.

Rachel's ski pants were a shiny tight white... with strong suspenders up top and elastic stirrups that looped under my insteps. Looking down at myself in a drunken fog... I was stunned.

"Holy ssshhit?" I slurred, "Where... where's my... shtuff?"

My crotch was completely and utterly smooth. My hips and ass were incredibly curvaceous... sexy even. My crushed waist and tummy seemed even skinnier in contrast.

My lower body looked like a chick's.

The girls didn't answer me. They seemed too excited as they put Rachel's pink ski-jacket on me and pulled me into the main cabin area to show me off.

There were more "holy shits" and drunken cheers to someone named Stacy... but I was nearly oblivious. The tight clothes were making my bloated bladder uncomfortable and I needed to piss. Someone said something about girls "peeing" instead, but I didn't really focus on it. I just remember diving into the bathroom and struggling to get out of everything.

Things got fuzzy after that. I briefly remember sputtering in a shower that I had been dragged into against my will... and brushing what seemed like stinging bugs away from my forehead, which kept interrupting my drunken "sleep".

I awoke with the hangover of my life. I was in a pink sleeping bag on the floor instead of the bed I had claimed. I wasn't even in the same room.

Seeing two of the girls sleeping confused me. I didn't connect any of the previous day with my being in there with them... until I moved.

"What the?!"

Rachel rolled towards me from her perch on one of the beds and smiled.

"Good morning Stacy."

"Holy shit! What did you do to me?!"

She smiled and shrugged.

"We... um... made it easier for you to wear my things."

Pulling my arms out of the sleeping bag only added to the shock. I was never a big guy, but seeing hairlessly smooth arms made them look downright girlish. So did the glossy pink oval nails that seemed to have grown overnight on me.

The heavy jiggling tugs on my chest weren't the only things wrong when I rocketed up into a sitting position and unzipped the sleeping bag. The feel of delicate spaghetti straps and even being in a little pink nightgown was terrifying. So was the feel of my usual mop of hair, which DIDN'T flop into my face like it should have.

Throwing open the pink sleeping bag, I saw disturbingly sexy smooth legs and cute pink polished toes to match my fingers.

Rachel's soft laugh wasn't mean-spirited at all; and woke up Janet on the other bed even as I struggled to my pretty feet.

"Oh shit... Oh shit... Oh shit..." I kept mumbling as I tried to steady myself from getting up too quickly.

There might have been words in my direction... but I hadn't heard them. The hem of that nightgown tickled my smooth skin mid-way down my alarmingly sexy legs as I stumbled to the mirror hanging behind the closed door. Delicate satin hugged curves (top and bottom) that I shouldn't have had.

"Oh my god!"

I stared at myself in horror... but not because my hangover made me look like hell. I stared in horror because I was WAY nicer to look at than I should have been.

My unkempt mop of mousy brown hair was now a sassy pixyish blonde girl's style that looked disturbingly cute on me. Though you could see the seams of where they met my skin in that flimsy nightie, two incredibly realistic "breasts" (complete with hints of nipples poking through) were firmly glued to my chest. There were even tiny glittering studs in my earlobes that I suddenly noticed stung. But the most alarming thing done to me was actually above my eyes.

I felt the two delicate wisps that were now my brows with my dainty pink-tipped fingers in utter terror. Even in my addled throbbing head, I figured that I could undo everything else pretty easily. Smooth skin could be hidden under clothes until my body-hair grew back. But those terrifyingly sexy thin arches couldn't be hidden... and would have to be dealt with long after our two weeks were over.

Someone's cheery voice shook me out of my daze.

"You said that you didn't want anyone to read you as a guy dressing up. Did we do a good job?"

I don't remember who spoke, but I spun on my smooth shapely legs to confront them both.

"Are you out of your minds?! What did you do to me?!!!!"

I heard stirring from the other rooms at my outburst. There were muffled moans of other hangovers mixed with girl's voices.

Janet was walking in and smiled in spite of my red angry face.

"What you asked... Stacy."

"I don't remember any... I can't go around like this!"

"Why not?" she challenged me back, "No one will think anything's wrong at all. You won't have to worry about a thing."

"But..."

Rachel's smile was disarming.

"Whatever's done is done Brian. You can undo it if you want... but you're still going to have to figure out how you'd go skiing if you do. We kind of spent a little more than we planned to yesterday."

I stared at her in stunned disbelief. Brows aside, it seemed like Rachel was saying that there wouldn't be enough money for me to borrow for rentals and a new pass anymore... and that using Rachel's gear made even more sense now.

"But..."

Chloe had slipped into the room and closed the door before softly adding, "We're sorry Brian. You seemed perfectly OK with it last night. Maybe we shouldn't have taken advantage of your being so drunk. Maybe we should have spent the money on new ski-stuff for you... but you definitely look good enough for the slopes now. Why not make the best of it?"

Their smiling faces didn't seem real. There really didn't seem like a better option. I seemed to be stuck anyway... and getting away with the insanity of it all seemed way too doable. In fact (as bizarre as it sounded) with the damage already done... it seemed even more insane NOT to go through with it.

"OK," I whispered numbly, "If only to get out of this zoo."

There were smiles and excited giggles. With flimsy nightgowns bouncing all around me, I even took a tiny pleasure in having slept in the same room with the "other" girls. With all the jiggling though... it was hard not to look down at my own bouncing nightie.

"Where'd you get these anyway?" I said hefting what I found out were C- sized breast prosthetics.

"We passed a medical supply store on the way to the shops. My mom got breast forms from a similar place after her mastectomy."

I nodded... not quite taking in the fact that I had such realistic feeling breasts attached to me at all. I couldn't quite take in the girls helping me to get dressed too, which wasn't entirely unpleasant.

I soon stood in a soft fury white angora turtleneck, which looked disturbingly sexy stretched over my "breasts" and tucked into the curvaceous shiny white ski pants. Even the way the suspenders curved around them made me want to keep staring at myself.

It seemed pointless to resist their pleas to let them put a little makeup on me. Wanting to insure that no one saw me as a guy in girl's things anyway, it didn't take much to convince me that it would help the disguise. Still... I wasn't prepared to see just how hot I could look with such flawless complexion, a touch of eyeliner, a little mascara, some definition to my delicate brows, and pink glossy lips that were suddenly fuller and poutier than I had ever seen them before.

With the pink nails and Rachel's pink ski-boots, I looked like the kind of hot little snow-bunny that I would have normally tried getting next to (or behind) on the lifts.

My unveiling was mortifying... but my playing along with their teases seemed to take off some of the sting. Trying to do a cutesy girlish voice to go with the charade almost worked too well.

Bob seemed the most stunned by it all and couldn't stop staring at me.

"Shit Stacy... You'd better be careful at the lodge."

There was too much to do to get everyone ready to ask what he meant by it... and my little costume seemed to become less important in the chaos of everyone and their gear. Borrowing more of Rachel's things, I zipped into her pink ski-jacket; put on her sexy wrap-around sunglasses; put on her fuzzy pink ear-wrap; and put on white pouffy mittens (which I hadn't worn since I was little).

It was too hot to stay in the cabin, from where we could ski down to the lifts. I wasn't in the mood to hear more about ski-bunnies either. It was terrifying to actually force myself out of the door... but I did. Clamping into Rachel's pink skis only added to the strangely girlish feelings; but the distraction of being on skis seemed to help. Pushing my way to the entrance trail with her pink poles... I was soon swishing my curvy hips down the short bit of mountain to the lifts.

Somewhere during the night, the freezing rain had turned to a light powder. Eight inches of virgin snow helped take my mind off of the insanity of what I was doing. Rachel's skis were just a little shorter than mine used to be... which weren't as fast; but which made skiing even more enjoyably easy.

It was early. There was practically nobody on the "single" line. Feeling the eyes of too many people near the lifts; I was happy to scoot my way up so that I might get away from the tiny crowd.

"Hi Stacy."

The words didn't even register until I heard them again... and recognized the voice.

Bob repeated, "Hi Stacy."

"Oh god. Bob," I whispered; "You scared me."

"You might want to do the voice out here," he whispered back.

I looked at him incredulously... but he was right.

"I... Thanks... Bobby."

He smiled behind his glasses.

"You're up," he said with a nod.

Turning around, I saw that the doubles line next to me was getting into position for the lift swinging around.

I just had time to squeeze in next to them. With the lift coming up under my padded bottom, it took me and two guys off the launching area as one of them lowered the bar.

"Hi. I heard your friend say your name's Stacy. I'm Pete and this's John."

"Hi," I said in my girl's voice.

"You must really like skiing."

"What do you mean?"

"You and your friend going on the single-line. Much faster than waiting with everyone else."

"Oh. I didn't know he was there," I answered a little too truthfully, "We just kind of bumped into each other."

"So you're not together then?"

"No."

"Sweet," he said smiling even more broadly.

I felt like such an idiot... and blushed like a stupid schoolgirl. I hadn't even realized that I was being maneuvered into admitting that I was "available" until Pete had tricked me into it.

"You're a tricky boy Peter," I said.

Though I intended it to be a dig... my girlish voice and choice of words seemed to turn them into a playful tease.

Oddly enough... he started talking about the trails and conditions, which took me off of my guard. The lift bar was suddenly being raised and I realized that I had just had a bizarrely "normal" conversation for the entire ride.

"See you around the slopes Stacy."

"OK."

I let them ski ahead while I pretended to adjust myself. Bob swished up next to me.

"Don't ever let me take the single line again," I said in my girl's voice.

He laughed then asked, "Why? Did they hit on you or something?"

"Just stay close. OK?"

"OK... OK," he chuckled, "My pleasure really."

"And what's THAT supposed to mean?"

"It means that it's not too shabby to be seen skiing with the hottest girl on the slopes."

"Uh... I might pass enough to get on the lift lines Bobby... but you don't have to..."

"No. Seriously. You should have heard the comments after your lift took off. Whatever they did to pad that ass of your works big-time. Let's just say that the second best place to be on the lifts is behind yours."

"Ha... ha," I said theatrically.

Bob just shrugged and pushed off... leaving me to follow him.

Bob's teases I could deal with... so I made sure I didn't lose him. There was just no way that I was going to get separated if it might subject me to more "Petes".

But it took another lift ride to realize that I also needed to make sure that Bob was between me and whoever shuffled up to the chair with us. It was OK when it was another girl... or one of our friends... but even with Bob sitting between me and another guy, they still wanted to talk with me.

"You could help me out a little," I said after one very awkward lift ride.

Bob said, "What do you mean? That guy was harmless."

"He fricken asked me out!"

"Well... Whattayou expect?"

"Hmmmm... Maybe a little help? I mean. Did you HAVE to tell him we weren't seeing each other?"

"I didn't want him to get the wrong ide..."

"He HAS the wrong idea Bobby! I'm not a girl!"

"Yeah. That's why I didn't want him to think that you and I were an item."

"Bobby. Bob. Listen to me. This whole thing is freaking me out a little... but it's not so bad when I'm actually skiing. I can deal with it if I don't have to deal with guys like him trying to get in my panties."

"You're wearing panties?"

"Seriously. If some guy's trying to start a conversation or something... would it kill you to pretend to be my boyfriend or something?"

"What?!"

"I'm not saying kiss me or anything like that. Just... I don't know... make it seem like we're together."

Bob looked at me like I was from Venus... but turned to catch someone checking me out.

"Shit Stacy. I see what you mean... not that I can blame them."

I sounded a little exasperated when I asked, "You'll do it though?"

He shrugged as a smile broke out on him.

"Yeah. Sure. No problem."

"Thanks... Bobby."

His arm wasn't exactly around me on the next lift up... but I felt it on the rail of the lift-chair behind me. It seemed to be enough.

We sat close at the lodge when we all met up for a bite for lunch too. Too close.

Our idea about the slopes not being crowded on the holiday break was way off base. Squeezing in around a round cafeteria-like table in the corner, Rachel (who didn't ski with her broken arm but met up with us anyway) sat on Jack's lap. Janet was perched on Greg's. I wasn't on Bob's, but we were both half-seated on the same chair.

"Don't you two look cozy?" Bill teased.

Bob shot back, "Who? Me and my girlfriend?"

"Ha... ha..." I said theatrically in my Stacy voice.

"Oh now I'm not good enough for you?" he teased back.

Janet spoke for the rest when she asked, "What are you talking about?"

"You tell them honey," he laughed towards me.

"Guys were being jerky... so I asked Bobby to pretend to be my boyfriend."

The laughter that erupted took a while to die down. I then explained how it all came about. Everyone thought it was hilarious... but agreed it was a good idea anyway.

It was getting harder to share a chair with Bob though... no matter how much padding I had. Each squirm or movement threatened to push one or the other of us off.

"Oh just forget about it!" he said out of nowhere as he easily lifted me to his lap.

"What are you doing?" I squeaked in surprise.

"Finishing my lunch... girlfriend."

There were some laughs, but I was amazed that I seemed to be the only one who thought there was anything wrong with me sitting on Bob's lap.

But after the first VERY awkward moments for me, it seemed even more awkward to draw attention to it... or to get up.

"Oh shit," I whispered near the end of lunch, "I've got to go to the bathroom!"

"Thank you for sharing that," Bob laughed underneath me.

"No. I'm serious. What do I do?"

Jack answered, "Well you sure as shit are NOT going into the men's room like that."

Rachel gave him a playful little girl-punch as she slid off his lap.

"Don't listen to him Stacy. Come with me. I need to show you how to freshen your gloss anyway, which you forgot by the way."

"Huh?"

She rolled her eyes in a playful tease and took my by my arm. The other girls followed.

I whispered, "Are you really taking me in there?"

"Jack can be a jerk... but he's right. You're a girl today."

In spite of "being a girl", I couldn't believe that I was actually going into the ladies' room with them. I couldn't believe that they didn't seem to care either.

More pink. Tiles. Walls. The stalls. But the color wasn't the only difference from the men's room. There were more mirrors and counter space. Next to an unexpected condom dispenser, there was a dispenser of tampons and pads... but no urinals.

After being steered into a stall of my own, I went through the hassle of nearly disrobing to "pee", which took forever. But I was in for another shock when I finally pulled the last restraining bit of Lycra to my knees.

I wanted to shout out, "HOLY SHIT," but stopped myself. I stared at my poor shriveled penis and balls as if they belonged to someone else. But I was staring more at what WASN'T there... my pubes! Thinking about who might have shaved me... I stared at my bald little boy-parts, which suddenly looked so out of place with everything else.

Somehow, I remembered to sit so that my feet would point in the right direction (and so that my "splash" wouldn't sound like a boy's). Somehow, I put myself back together and finally came out to where the other girls were fixing their makeup and smiling at me.

I didn't mention my smooth skin between my legs. I couldn't.

"Here," Rachel said handing me a little tube of lipstick and gloss.

It was a liquid color and gloss... with application wands at both ends. With the other girls trying to watch inconspicuously, Rachel whispered quick tips to me.

The pink color was apparently an "all day" color that didn't really need retouching... not even after the salad that the others had guilted me into getting for lunch. Rachel said something about lining outside the lip-line to make everything look plump and full... but not to worry about that. They would happily help in the morning. But whether I needed it or not at that moment though, they still wanted me to at least know HOW to put more color on.

It didn't seem that complicated. I kind of painted the color on with a curved little wand. Unlike other "regular" lipsticks (that I might have to blot she told me); I had to just sit there a bit with my mouth hanging a little open so that the all-day color would set.

There was a similar wand for the gloss, which went on even easier than the color. It wasn't "all-day"... but would last quite a while too.

"You should gloss fairly frequently," she whispered, "Maybe every other time you're on the lifts. Especially if you're doing a lot of talking. Definitely after eating... and kissing. And pretty much any time you need to use the bathroom. If you've gone more than two hours without refreshing your gloss... you've waited too long."

I stared at her in mild disbelief from getting makeup tips in a crowed ladies' room. But I took the little tube to zip into my pocket anyway... along with the little compact with the mirror that they thought I'd probably need.

Things got back to some kind of normalcy on the slopes, but I couldn't keep the thoughts of glossing from nagging me. I tried to keep tabs of which runs I might have freshened things on, but lost track. Riding up with Bob on a rare lift where someone didn't scoot on with us, I turned to him.

"This is going to sound insane, but the girls got this thing in my head. How are my lips?"

"What?!"

"My lips. Is the gloss OK? They said I should fix it every other run or so... but I lost track and it's kind of a pain to take my mittens off for my little mirror. Do they look OK to you?"

He stared laughing.

"What's so funny? Well. OK. I know what's funny but what are..."

"If only you heard yourself!"

"I know," I said a little dejectedly before adding, "But do they look alright anyway?"

He looked at my lips for a moment before saying, "They look more than alright."

"What are you talking about?"

"The gloss is fine. Real shiny."

"No. Really Bobby. What did you mean?"

"I mean its weird seeing those lips on you. Whatever they did with the makeup... well... your lips are just so full. They've got this amazing pout to them too. That pink color's just right. So's the gloss. I know it's you, but your lips are so... so..."

"So what?"

"So perfect. I mean... REALY perfect."

"What? Do you want to kiss them or something?" I joked.

"If they were on a chick... yeah. I would."

"You'd want to kiss these lips?" I asked incredulously.

"Right now, you've got the most kissable looking lips on this mountain Stacy. Weird. But it is what it is."

"But only if I were a chick. Right?"

He laughed as the lift reached the top. He was still laughing when we slid off the ramp and started down the trail.

I don't know how he did it, but I'd swear that Bob was able to somehow arrange it that no one scooted onto the next lift with us either. He was staring at my lips again... but not because I asked him to.

"What?" I asked nervously.

"You didn't do the gloss last time."

"Oh. Yeah. Right. Thanks."

I kept telling myself that Bob was just reminding me of the every-other- run thing that I had told him about. Still. I felt more than self- conscious taking off my mittens and unzipping my gloss and compact. Opening them up, I used the little mirror to help apply a fresh coat of shine.

"God that looks hot."

"My lips?"

"Them too... but I don't know... the whole thing. Don't you think it's hot when you see a chick putting on lipstick?"

I knew exactly what he meant... but it didn't make it any easier to realize that I was the one who suddenly looked hot doing that simple feminine gesture.

"Yeah," I admitted sheepishly.

He just smiled.

I looked away... almost thankful that I had an excuse to focus on zipping the makeup back away in my pocket.

He asked, "Does it feel as slick as it looks?"

"The gloss?"

He nodded.

"Not really. Maybe some other gloss might, but this stuff seems different. It goes with the all-day color and feels a little like a thick berryish coat of something."

"Berryish?"

"It's flavored. You should try it sometime."

"Are you serious?" he said with very wide eyes.

Wearing it right then myself, the idea of his dabbing a little of the stuff on him to taste it seemed like no big deal at all.

"Why not? It tastes kinda nice even," I said with a casual shrug.

"You want me... to taste... your gloss?" he said mechanically... as if making sure he heard correctly.

"Well it'd be better to taste them off someone else' lips," I said without even dreaming that he might think I was talking about MY lips.

"I can't believe we're even talking about this!"

I said, "I know. It's weird for me too."

"And you're not freaked about it?"

"I was at first," I admitted about being dressed up like I was, "But it's not so bad with you pretending to be my boyfriend."

His glance ahead made me look at how close our lift was to the top too.

"Should I taste it now?" he asked incredulously.

"Maybe the next time we're alone. There isn't enough time this lift."

With that, he swung the bar up over us before we came off the lift and started another run down the mountain together.

We somehow managed to be alone again on the next ride up. As soon as the bar came down, I looked at my zippered jacket pocket, which reminded me of the last conversation with Bob.

"Do you still want to taste the..."

I had turned to Bob to ask if he still wanted to taste the gloss, but never finished the sentence. His face was already turned in my direction. His lips were already in position.

He kissed me.

It wasn't a peck. I wasn't a taste. It was a full blown kiss... as if he were with a real girl.

"Holy crap Bob!" I said in the Stacy-voice out of sheer habit, "What was THAT all about?!"

"It was your idea," he said with a confused look on his face... and a very wrong bulge in the front of his ski pants.

"I didn't say ANYTHING about kissing me!"

"Yes you did. All that stuff about tasting your lip-gloss."

"Not on ME you idiot!"

"But..."

I looked at him... and his bulge... and just started laughing.

"That's cold Stacy."

Even though he'd been using the girl name with me all day, I expected him to call me Brian instead.

"I'm sorry Bobby. It's just so funny that you thought... That you'd even..."

"Shit. I'm SUCH a fuck head. I'm so embarrassed."

"I'm sorry," I repeated sincerely.

"You won't tell anyone?"

"Nobody."

We stared at each other for a long while. I felt a smile creeping back to my face, which must have been contagious. He tried hunching forward to hide it, but his bulge hadn't gone away.

He asked, "What?"

"So... did you like it?"

"It tasted kinda... nice... berryish... like you said."

I nodded. The taste of berries didn't make guys hard. As much as I was creeped out by even knowing that his kissing my "perfect" lips had excited Bob... I was even more scared from knowing how electrifying it was for me too.

"I'm not gay or anything Bobby... but don't feel too bad," I said while nodding towards his embarrassing hard-on.

"Look. I didn't mean anyth..."

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhh. I said it's OK. Really. We'll laugh about this someday."

"Yeah... but your pecker's not outing you."

His choice of words threw me for a loop. Outing? Was Bob trying to tell me that he was gay?

"That doesn't make you gay Bobby."

"What does it make me then?! Ever since the girls stuffed you into those ski-pants last night, I've been going out of my MIND. I wouldn't give you (or any guy) a second glance. But seeing you like this... I've gotta be gay!"

"Your body's seeing what it thinks is a girl... with perfect lips I think you said. You're hard-wired in the right way... reacting to the right things. You're not gay Bobby."

"That's easy for you to say. You're not sitting here with... with THIS."

He nodded to his tented lap... the lap I had been sitting on earlier that day at lunch.

"Because it's hidden," I admitted in spite of every rational cell in my brain screaming at me to shut up.

"Your dick's...?"

"If anyone's gay... it has to be me. You're at least kissing what looks like a girl. I. Well. I was kissing you."

"But you're not gay Brian? Are you?"

"I don't know anything anymore. It might sound weird (and don't tell anyone I said this) but I even FEEL pretty... and... and it's not so... bad. One day dressed like a girl and I'm getting hot and bothered from kissing you. I'd never think about it in the real world... but when I'm dressed like this. I don't know. I kind of feel like a girl if that makes any sense."

"You were hot and bothered by that kiss?"

I stared at him before finally admitting, "Yes."

There was more silence before he muttered, "Shit."

"Yeah. Shit."

The lift ended and we slid off for the last run of the day. The sun was going down and we needed to meet up with everyone back at the cabin. We stood close to the top, just to the side of the lift, on our skis.

"Nothing about this to anyone?" he said.

"Are you kidding me?" I replied.

He stared at me for a bit longer before speaking.

"That gloss really did taste kind of nice."

The bulge hadn't quite gone away, but he wasn't trying to hide what was left of it. I looked at his lips and tried to ignore the straining between my own legs... straining that might have even been made more intense by its pretty prison.

My mind raced. It didn't seem possible that I wanted to kiss him again. I couldn't have been sad to think that we'd go back to the cabin and never see what it might have been like without my pulling back like I had.

I shivered when I spoke... but not from the cold.

"Would you like to taste it again Bobby?"

His eyes went wide... and his bulge started to grow.

"Are you serious?"

I nodded a tiny nervous nod.

He kept staring.

I felt like an idiot.

We both clearly felt an unnatural temptation that almost needed to be dispelled. I don't know what Bob thought, but I definitely didn't want to spend a life torturing myself over thoughts of that kiss... and how it made me feel.

Not waiting for sanity to prevail; I put my mittens on the side of his ears and actually drew his face towards mine... touching my lips to his.

There was no jumping back. There was no surprise. I tasted the berryish flavor of my gloss, but the flavor of his breath even more. My legs felt weak as our tentative kiss became more real... more urgent. I felt my pulse in our mingled breath as I let his tongue gently part my teeth and enter my mouth.

It felt like so many other kisses, and like no other kiss at the same time. It was like a very first kiss, but without the awkward inexperience. It made me feel so incredibly feminine, which felt terrifyingly wonderful.

"Why'd you stop Bobby," I panted with heavily lidded eyes hidden behind my sunglasses.

"Because it felt too good," he said deep in the fog of his own lust.

I stared down at his frighteningly hard bulge, which actually twitched.

"Oh my god."

He nodded.

We could have stood there forever talking about it... or avoided it altogether. Thankfully, Bobby made the decision for us and aimed down the slope without a word.

I followed behind, wondering how my crushed little bald wee-wee could stay hidden like it was.

We made it back to the cabin without incident. After undoing wet ski- things in the mud-area up front, Bobby and I went through the common area, where some of the gang were already enjoying drinks by the fire.

Rachel called out with her cast covered in writing.

"Hiya Stacy! How was it out there?"

"OK," I shrugged, which made my breasts rise more noticeably than I intended.

"Wait... Come into our room and I'll get you something to wear."

She didn't wait for me to reply. Rachel was up and limping over towards our nearby door.

I panicked when I realized that my only boy-clothes were the beer-soaked things I wore the day before. Everything else was strewn down an icy ravine with broken skis. Rachel's snow-bunny outfit might have seen me through on the slopes; but I suddenly remembered that I still needed to borrow clothes off the slopes too.

I might have been able to take off makeup; clip nails; and take out the earrings... but that blonde pixie hairdo, glued-on breasts, and absurdly feminine brows in particular would have made it pointless. I panicked knowing that I wouldn't be getting out of the snow-bunny costume and relaxing as "me" after skiing. Like it or not, I was going to be stuck looking like a chick for a while... probably the whole two-week trip.

So I followed Rachel to our room and stood like a deer in headlights while she chattered on about different options for me.

Someone else came back to the cabin. There was a sudden uproar of laughs and cheers from the common room while I put on whatever Rachel handed me. Nothing seemed real as I exchanged ski-pants for ribbed white tights... and an alarmingly cute denim miniskirt. With my jiggling large breasts still stretching the angora (and with large fuzzy boots); I still looked like an après-ski snow-bunny.

"No don't forget to keep up with your gloss," she said almost dismissively as she gave me a little purse and left me to rejoin the others.

I felt like such an idiot... but applied a fresh shine before tugging at the skirt and heading out too.

The cheer and uproar of laughs made me actually jump. But it was the bright crimson on Bob's face that worried me most... Bob who wasn't laughing or cheering with the others.

On of the other guys, Tom (Greg's friend I think), spoke above them all.

"I almost can't blame the guy! I mean... DAMN!"

More laughs and cheers made me very uncomfortable. Bob came over with cat-calls and whistles all around.

"Somebody saw us," he whispered close.

I didn't say anything. I'm sure my expression said it all. Somebody had seen Bob and I locked in that oh-so-frighteningly incredible kiss that still didn't seem real.

We shared mortified gazes even as a chant of "KISS HER! KISS HER! KISS HER!" arose.

I don't know where the wild idea came from, but I leaned in towards Bob's ear.

"Do you want to really shut them up?"

He nodded vigorously without drawing away.

"Then go ahead and do it."

I pulled back... only to see his mortified eyes go even wider... his face even redder. I wasn't sure if either of us believed that a kiss would really shut them up or not... but Bob suddenly reached out and took me in his arms. In a sweeping motion that caught me completely off-guard, he leaned me back in a classic dip while his lips locked with mine.

The eruption of ooohs, aaahs, squeals, and laughs would have been deafening if I had heard them at all.

Bob's lips weren't just touching mine. They were feeding on my berryish pink mouth while his tongue probed me with a deep animal passion that almost frightened me in how incredible it felt. Our heavy breath mingled as the kiss continued... and laughing friends started becoming uncomfortable. Completely at his mercy as Bob held me from falling to the floor; I felt not only his strong masculinity... but an alarmingly incredible femininity that made my trapped bald little wee-wee spontaneously start throbbing under my skirt.

There was no way that Bob couldn't have avoided noticing my body spasm to an orgasm that was as frighteningly sudden as it was unexpected.

No one else noticed; but that kiss really had shut everyone up as Bob slowly brought me back upright and stepped back.

Tom wasn't as loud as before, but he didn't have to be.

"Holy shit."

I hadn't noticed that Bob was still holding one of my pink-nailed dainty hands as we looked into each other's eyes. I was trembling because the two of us knew that he had made me cum.

He made no attempt to hide the straining bulge in his pants either.

I wasn't gay. I never thought about guys. But Bob's hard-on over me made me feel unnatural temptations that seemed even stronger BECAUSE they were so wrong. Even the fact that it was all happening in front of our friends was somehow more of a turn-on.

Tom started to repeat himself... but was nudged into silence.

Greg spoke to Bob softly from the other side of the room.

"What's going on man?"

Bob looked at him and smiled before turning towards the bedroom that I had come out of moments before. He just started walking towards it with a confidence that was startling. What was even more startling though was that I didn't let go of his hand. In spite of every instinct I had... I simply allowed myself to be led into the bedroom, where Bob closed the door behind us.

I wanted make some excuse about the orgasm that I couldn't deny. Simply joking about following him into the bedroom (or even speaking in my Brian-voice at all) would have defused things enough to pop right back out... and make it seem like a joke to the others too.

But I didn't make an excuse. There was no joke to defuse things. I stood there, unable to speak as I looked up into his alarmingly hungry eyes. In spite of my screaming inner-Brian, I stood frozen... simply allowing Bob to lean forward towards my upturned face.

I knew... we both knew... that every second we stayed behind that closed door was cementing perceptions of what we were doing in there. But like when we kissed in front of everyone in the common room... the terror underlying those perceptions (and their consequences) only made our unnatural arousals that much more frighteningly intense.

With Bob's hard-on tenting towards me; I allowed his softly parted lips to descend upon mine. In exquisite terror, I felt my quivering mouth yield to the gentle probe of his tongue. With his hot breath escaping from my own nostrils, I thrilled to the feel of his large strong hands gripping my slight feminine body to hold me.

With heavily lidded eyes, I paused long enough to ask in my Stacy- voice...

"What are we doing Bobby?"

He answered by pressing his lips back to mine and feeding on my very soul. With my eyes closing in a terrifying acceptance of what was happening; I heard a very Stacy-ish moan escape from me in spite of myself.

Motivations didn't seem to matter for either of us. Consequences be damned... which only seemed to be driving our unnatural lust even further. Even the realization that I was getting turned on by idea of Bob getting hard over me was frighteningly exhilarating.

I knew it was wrong, which only made it so right. Submitting to his purposeful insanity made me feel utterly and delightfully feminine.

One of Bob's hands slid down my arm to take hold of my own dainty pink- nailed hand. Before I understood what he was doing; he had somehow pressed mine to his hard tented pants and held it there. I couldn't believe that I was holding his (or any guy's) hard-on... or how much it was turning me on. When he eased his hand off of mine, it didn't seem possible that mine remained in place... or that it tentatively rubbed his hardness as if on its own.

"Ohhhhhhhnnnnnn....." he moaned into our mingled breath.

It might not have seemed real. It might not have seemed possible. My inner-Brian might have been screaming at what was happening... but I didn't care. The moans I was able to coax from Bob by just holding his hidden penis made me tremble.

With our lips pressed together; I hungrily panted again, "what... are... we... doing...," even as I brought my other hand up to tug at his belt.

It was if someone else was fumbling with his buckle. Those long pink oval nails couldn't have been mine unclasping his jeans... or unzipping his fly. It couldn't have been me standing there with Bob's tongue probing my upturned mouth... and simultaneously drawing his pants and underwear down to free his straining hard-on.

I couldn't believe that I was swapping saliva while wrapping my pretty little fingers around the flesh of his hard penis.

We paused long enough for me to look down and see just HOW pretty my hand looked holding him.

Also looking down at that vision too, Bob whispered, "Kiss it Stacy."

The wrongness of what we were doing... and of painfully unwanted desires that just wouldn't be ignored... sent me to the floor and onto my white tight-covered knees. Bob's straining erection was aimed right towards my glistening pink lips. But as much as I unbelievably craved it; a last shred of sanity seemed to intrude.

"I... can't..."

"Kiss it," he urged with an even softer whisper that seemed to melt the last of my resolve.

Slowly... nervously... I obeyed and moved my face forward; touching my lips to the hard purpled head of his sex.

I didn't burst into flames. I didn't die of mortified horror at what I was doing. I was even surprised that it felt no different than kissing any other part of a person's body... in spite of the musky scent and taste of him.

But knowing that my lips were kissing the head of Bob's hard penis made my own pantied boy-clit strain like never before. Knowing that the sweet slickness on my lips was his pre-cum didn't make me gag... it made me quiver with a terrified lust.

"Oh god Stacy," he moaned in a soft whisper with his head tilted back; "That feels sooooooo incredible."

I allowed my lips to gently nibble on his tip, which only coaxed more lust-fogged moans... from both of us.

"Put me in your mouth," he said.

The tiny popping sounds of my butterfly kisses on his head stopped as my wide feathery eyes looked up from where I knelt. Bob was gazing down at me with a warm but urgent hunger that frightened and exhilarated me.

He repeated, "Put me in your mouth."

Parting my lips wider in spite of any remaining sanity... I pushed myself forward and felt his warm hardness fill my pretty maw. I tasted his shaft on my flattened tongue. His penis touched the back of my throat before I slid back... feeling every straining vein that my lips moved over.

"oh... god... stacy..."

I could feel his restrained orgasm building as I slid forward and back... forward and back... forward and back. I felt the unnatural tabooish delight threaten to take me over the brink too.

"oh... god... stacy..." he panted in a close-eyed mantra toward the ceiling.

He felt too close. But as much as I somehow needed to coax him to cum; I wanted it to last... for both of us. Rationalizing my improbable act as a once-in-a-lifetime moment of insanity... I wanted it to be good (and unrushed) for him. It didn't seem possible, but I actually wanted him to remember what I was doing as the best blowjob of his life.

I slid off of him and gently kissed the tip of his penis.

"oh... god..."

I softly blew cooling air on his saliva-coated shaft.

"what..."

I sucked high on the flesh of his inner-thigh while long pink fingernails gently raked under his hairy scrotum.

"are..."

I slid my lips back over his penis... and quickly off again so that he'd crave more.

"you..."

I touched the tip of my tongue just underneath the head of his penis and teased it with a flicker.

"doing?"

Enveloping his penis in my hungry pink lips... I licked and sucked and fucked his hot hard penis with my mouth like I was born for it. I held him right at the very brink of orgasm... keeping myself on that very same ledge.

"oh god stacy... you're driving me wild! Oh god... I... can't... hold... it. I... can't... hold... I'm... gonna... cum! Oh god... oh god... I'm gonna... oh shit Stacy. Oh god. Oh... oh... I can't... I... I'm... God Stacy! How... do..."

I was too close to my own orgasm and suddenly pushed my mouth forward. I felt his hard penis press the back of my throat... and pushed forward even further. My gullet opened to receive his thick hard flesh. With my pink full lips pressed against his hairy pelvis, I was suddenly surprised that the flesh deep within me was choking off my breath.

I didn't panic or pull off of him though. I instead opened my lips further and pressed his balls into my mouth with long nailed fingertips... all while his penis held my breath.

Bob's entire body spasmed while his throat-filling penis twitched inside me. His hot hard penis throbbed. Depositing gooey semen deep in my gullet; my throat automatically clenched to swallow the invading spurts that had nowhere else to go.

Holding my breath to accommodate every last pulse of Bob's sex... my crushed hidden suddenly penis dampened my panties even more. It was still throbbing when I finally pulled off of his flesh and gasped for air like a drowning victim.

Thankfully... there were no words.

He looked down at me with a warm smile and offered a hand to help me up.

I was dressed like a sexy young woman and had just fellated my friend Bob. I could taste his sperm on my breath... sperm now deep in my gut.

I didn't know what to say, do, or think. Before taking his hand with my delicate pink-tipped fingers, I felt a need to cover up his shrinking nakedness. Tucking him back into his shorts. Lifting up his pants and redoing the clasp and zipper. Re-buckling his belt. Only after he was tucked safely back away did I take Bob's hand and smile as he helped me off my knees.

I fussed with my skirt. I brushed my dainty hands on the white ribbed tights that I had been kneeling on. I craned my neck to look at the mirror behind the door. The first words spoken were mine.

"Do I look OK?"

His smile was utterly disarming when he answered, "You look incredible."

I couldn't help smiling back... which made me feel even more delightfully vulnerable at that moment.

He added, "You might want to touch up your lipstick though."

After looking more closely into the mirror, I found myself smiling at Bob's boyish ignorance. I didn't need more color... just gloss (which had completely disappeared).

"Thanks."

Grabbing the purse Rachel had packed for me, I deftly applied a fresh coat of shine. With all the practice on the slopes, it was almost too natural... and made Bob smile at me even more.

With both of us straightened up; I turned to him. Still in my Stacy- voice I said...

"What do we do now Bobby?"

"If we play it up... they might think we were killing time in here as part of a joke."

It was a long-shot... but just might have worked.

But he smiled and took my dainty hands into his while he faced me.

He added, "But I don't really care what they think."

"You don't?"

"This might be a wonderful two weeks if we allow it to be," he said with a voice that was too alarmingly tempting.

"But..."

"Trust me... Stacy."

Without waiting for a reply; Bob started stepping backwards towards the door... drawing me forward by my dainty hands.

I think I was more afraid of walking through that door than I had been when staring at his straining erection moments before. If felt like the sanity-saving idea of once-in-a-lifetime experiment was slipping away from me. Like before though... the "public" aspect of everything was again starting to get my damp trapped wee-wee excited in its pretty prison.

Ten heads turned as Bob led me by one hand into the common room. Ten heads stopped what they were doing and gawked at us.

Undaunted, Bob just smiled at them all and led me deeper into the room. Somehow, I took enough strength through his hand to allow my legs to carry me forward.

He asked, "Would you like a drink?"

In my quivering Stacy-voice I answered, "Yes please."

The room was silent as we all watched Bob fill a cup of punch that he handed to me.

"Thank you."

He smiled before grabbing a beer and twisting its cap. He then took my hand again (as if nothing were wrong in the world) and led me to a seat by the fire. He sat first, and drew me to his lap to sit upon. With my legs pressed modestly together, I tried my best to ignore the uncomfortable silence as Bob wrapped his arms around my tiny middle.

"So," he said brightly to ten incredulous faces; "Did anyone decide what we're doing for dinner?"

Ten faces seem incapable of understanding that Bob could be asking about so mundane a thing. But Chloe filled the lingering silence.

"We were thinking of the Rusty Nail."

"Awesome," he said with a squeeze; "When're we going?"

Somehow, talk of dinner (and who was going in who's car) seemed to push the focus away from Bob and me. With each passing moment that our inexplicable closeness went unchallenged... it became harder for them to broach it. Plans were made. It became time to leave.

"Let me up Sweetie?" he said with another squeeze.

I rose to my feet. When Bob did too, he leaned in to give me an affectionate little kiss on the lips. It was no joke-kiss for laughs. Just a simple kiss between a boyfriend and girlfriend that seemed way too real.

He added, "I'm just going to hit the bathroom before we go."

Leaving me in a little knot of people, I felt suddenly vulnerable again. Rachel pulled me aside. She spoke soft and close.

"What are you two playing at? It almost seems like you really did something in there."

"What if we did?" I whispered with a quiver to my voice.

"Oh my god. Say that again."

"What if we did?"

"Come with me..." she said grabbing my arm without waiting for a reply.

I was suddenly back in the bedroom. The door was again closed. Rachel didn't speak. She just dug in her purse. A tin of strong mints was soon opened in front of me.

"Is my breath bad?" I asked putting my dainty hand in front of my pink mouth.

"It's not that it's bad... Stacy. It's what it smells like."

In spite of Bob intentionally bringing us into the open, I was still mortified that Rachel recognized the scent of cum on my breath.

I didn't try to deny it. I didn't try to explain. I simply took the mint from her... and the rest of the tin that she pressed into my pretty fingers.

She looked at me for a long while before saying, "Have you ever done that before?"

"No," I whispered.

"Did you like it?"

After a short silence I admitted, "Yes."

She didn't look shocked. She didn't look upset. If anything, I felt a kind of sisterly protection radiating from her.

"What are you two going to do?"

"I don't know. It seems like Bobby wants to pretend like we're a couple or something... just for the trip."

She nodded in thought before asking, "Is that what YOU want?"

I locked gazes with Rachel... feeling my eyes starting to well up with tears.

"I know it's wrong Rachel. I know that I SHOULDN'T like it. But... I do."

I was suddenly sobbing in her arms as she soothed me. The fact that her shushes included my name as Stacy seemed to convey an acceptance that I almost wished wasn't so.

"... am I a bad person Rachel?"

"Of course not Stacy. Are you going to be OK?"

I nodded.

She smiled and added, "We'll re-arrange rooms tonight. An extra couple will even things out."

I nodded again, smiling through my lingering sniffles in spite of myself. The idea of Bob and me as a "couple" was bizarre... but oddly wonderful too.

"Thank you Rachel."

"No problem. Now let's fix up your face. You don't want people to know you were crying in here."

I smiled weakly and let her touch up my makeup... instructing me all the while as she perfected my complexion.

No one knew that I had cried. The rest of the girls found out what I had done with Bob long before we finished dinner at the Rusty Nail... but nobody needed to see mints or talk with Rachel. Bob treated me so much like a girlfriend that even the boy's stopped thinking that we were pulling an elaborate gag. Two other couples shared our bedroom that evening. After hearing their soft kisses and quiet rustlings in the dark; Bob and I added our own muffled noises to the night... further cementing what everyone had came to know.

For all intents and purposes, I became Stacy... Bobby's girlfriend for these last two incredible weeks. It was awkward (and terrifying) in the beginning; but has been getting more and more amazing than I would ever have believed possible.

But now our trip is ending; and I'm getting scared again. It's not even because I'm worried about eyebrows or that I'll have problems passing for a boy. I'm frightened because I've had such a delightfully wonderful time... and don't want it to end. I'm afraid that I seem to have fallen in love with a boy named Bobby... and his glorious penis.

But mostly I'm frightened of who... or what... I want to be. It terrifies me to know that (after only two miraculous weeks) I want to keep being Stacy... that I want to keep being somebody's girlfriend. I'm scared not by the birth controls pills that I started taking three days ago... but by the fact that I asked Chloe for them at all. I'm frightened that I'm not just willing, but am actually eager, to tell my family (and friends who didn't come skiing) the mind-boggling idea that I want to live my life as a woman... as Stacy.

I'll let you know what happens another time though. We might have driven up in different groups, but Jack's driving back with Rachel... and I'm driving back with my Bobby. I guess I'm a little nervous about heading back to school with a little bag of girly clothes instead of the things lost on the drive up... but really excited too.

Ohhh... Bobby's calling me out to the car. Have to run!

-END-