Damon look a long hot shower, surprising himself by enjoying all the time and effort it took to wash and dry his mane. Running his hands through it was strangely pleasurable.
With the height of the showerhead as a frame of reference, he realized his legs hadn't just bulked, he'd gained a few inches of height as well.
As he dried it using an old hair dryer left behind by another disappointed ex-girlfriend, he found it favored flowing forward in the front and over his left eye. Oddly enough his cheeks lacked stubble, and were baby smooth.
Another subtle change were his eyes, having darked from a blue gray to deep rich brown. The color had expanded outward, significantly reducing the amount of white visible.
Monica was still fast asleep when he reentered the bedroom.
A quick test confirmed none of his pants would fit anymore; the additional bulk in his ass and thighs made even yesterday's sweatpants out of the question.
The best he could do was his bathrobe with a trenchcoat over it. A quick note for Monica and he was on his way for a quick shopping trip.
---------
Walking the open air mall, he felt different - calm and confident. The fall breeze played with his mane, setting it dancing about his shoulders.
Women seemed to be noticing him in ways they never did before. He was a legitimate head turner, but he put it down to the beauty of his long thick midnight tresses.
As he was picking out new pants, guessing at the size, an employee came up to him. She was probably in her early 30s, red hair, green eyes, and pale skin showing her Irish heritage. Mischief danced in her eyes and behind the smile on her lips.
'Would you like to try them on? I think they'd look amazing on you.' she asked.
Damon was a little puzzled at the last part, with the bulky trenchcoat she couldn't tell anything about how he would look.
'No thanks, trying to keep this short. Left my girlfriend napping at my apartment.'
The girl smirked. 'Oh I insist, there's no one here but you and me.'
She took him by the arm and guided him to the back of the store. She pulled him into the oversize handicap changing room, and locked the door behind them.
Damon knew where this was going, and knew he should stop it. But given his lifelong lack of success in love, he just couldn't stop this cute redhead from throwing herself on him.
The girl shoved him up against the wall, kissing his neck and smelling him deeply. Damon's trench coat and robe fell to the floor, as she wiggled out of her pants.
Damon's equine endowment was standing proud at it's full thirteen inch glory. The girl wasn't phased by his animalistic cock, she dropped down and ran her tongue around his flared head.
She pulled off her formerly white panties, now darkened to a dove gray by the saturation of her juices.
She roughly sat him down on the little bench and attempted to take his girth. The thickness of his flare was too much, and the girl let out a long low moan of sexual frustration.
She hooked her ankles behind Damon's knees and braced herself against the wall, using all her strength and leverage. With what should have been agony, she stretched enough to take his formidable size.
She did all the work, moving her entire body to ride the stallion. The girl went off immediately and was rolling on waves of multiple orgasms, eyes rolled back in her head. Damon bottomed out with each stroke, hammering her cervix.
With a grunt he came, blasting a torrent of horse spunk into her. She was so tight, there was nowhere for the cum to go. With a slight pop, her cervix opened and Damon's seed gushed to fill her womb directly.
Catching his breath, he saw the girl had fainted, orgasmed into unconsciousness.
He left her there on the floor, rang up his own purchases at the register, and walked out. Damon found he wasn't guilty or bothered by what happened. His only regret is he hadn't even gotten her name.
Instead he wanted to make a side trip the The Raven, a tiny coffee shop and indie music store that usually had a hot goth girl working as the barista this time of day.
Ten minutes later, he walked out of The Raven with two lattes, and the goth barista sleeping off a life-changing orgasm in the back room. He flipped the sign on the door to Closed as he left.