Fortuity (Transcend 3)

“Stop calling me that! I’m a woman now. I could have babies!” She turns and runs up the stairs.

“Holy shit …” I try to keep from laughing, but it’s hard. My baby went to Disneyland and came home a little woman with all the raging hormones. In my delusional mind, we had a few more years. I’m in trouble.

After I let her news settle, I head next door via Gracelyn’s private entrance. Something tells me she’s hiding in her room … possibly for eternity.

Knock, knock, knock.

She peeks through her curtains before unlocking the door.

“Hey.” I close the door behind me.

Big eyes stare me down.

“I need a favor.”

This elicits a few blinks from her. “A favor? Your daughter caught us doing really inappropriate things and you need a favor? I need an update! What did she say? What did you say? Do you think she’s going to say anything to Gabe? Should I say something to him first and get ahead of the situation?”

I shake my head. “N-no … It’s not about that. She hasn’t said anything about that. I don’t think she saw anything, or if she did, it wasn’t clear enough to pique her curiosity and ask me about it.”

Blowing out a slow breath of relief, Gracelyn nods several times. “That’s good. Thank god.” She slips her hands into the pockets of her capris. “So what’s the favor?”

“Morgan got her first period.”

“Oh … that’s …”

“Early.” I shrug. “At least it feels early.”

“She needs pads?”

I nod.

“Got it.” Gracelyn disappears into her bathroom and returns with a box of pads. “They’re bigger … well, more absorbent than she’ll need.” Her nose wrinkles. “You know what I mean. Just get her something that’s regular absorbency.”

“Actually, I was hoping you could help her out. It’s not about the pads. I can get her pads, but she had a little breakdown and needs, in her words, a mom. I think what she needs is a female. Can you be a female?”

Gracelyn chuckles. “I think I can manage something close to female.”

“I’d be forever indebted to you.”

Her eyebrows slide up her face. “Forever indebted? I like the sound of that.”

“Okay, not forever. For the next…” I glance at my watch “… five weeks.”

Her smile fades, and she nibbles her lip while staring at her feet. “I’m sorry I did what I did in the kitchen.”

“No. Please don’t be sorry for that.” I lift her chin with my finger. “I really, really need you to not be sorry for that. It was …”

Dark hazel eyes wait for me to finish.

“Just …” I duck my head and brush my lips over hers. “It was too damn good to ever regret.”

I nip at her lips and take a step backward before she makes things fuzzy in my head again.

“You’re only saying that because she didn’t question anything other than your shirt on me. She didn’t give you the third degree. Had she royally embarrassed you and demanded answers to what we were doing when she came into the kitchen, I think you would not have this no-regrets attitude.”

“I think we can both agree there are regrets. I made the huge mistake of going for a jog instead of making breakfast before you had a chance to escape. The timing was off.”

Her lips pause, nose wrinkled. “You just explained every tragedy that has ever happened in the world. The timing was off.”

“Nope. Sorry …” I shake my head. “Your mouth doing what it was doing to me could never be tragic. The only thing tragic about it was the ending. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to move on with your day after getting half a blow job?”

She giggles. “Sorry. No. I don’t really know that feeling because I’m female … which is why I’m going to go talk to Morgan about her menstrual cycle. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to devote seven days of every month to bleeding from one of your orifices?”

When I realize she’s not feeling that sympathetic to my partial blow job, I open the door and step aside. “Thank you for your service.”

Gracelyn pauses as she walks past me. “You’re welcome.” Her finger traces the length of my cock over my shorts.

“Not cool. Not cool at all.” I frown.

She smirks and steps outside, leaving me with a growing problem.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Gracelyn

My first period arrived at the tender age of thirteen. All of my friends got theirs around eleven. I didn’t want to be the first to get it. What young girl wants to pioneer that situation alone? However, being the last to get it also meant I was the last to get boobs, the last to look like a budding woman instead of a boy with long Black Beauty hair … that was actually auburn.

Yes, my hair has always been my most attractive trait. That’s why it was the first to go when I declared my man ban. No need to deal with a swarm of men chasing my mane. I’m only eighty percent exaggerating.