"Right then," Mark said as he turned his back to me. "You've got to be wearing something while we get this sorted out. He went over to his chest of drawers bent over and pulled some clothes out. "Here, stick these on in the meantime," he said to me as he threw a bundle of clothes to me.
I went to catch the bundle but it managed to drop through my arms. That never happened to me as a guy. I bent down to pick the clothes up. Mark had given me his football jersey from his old school, made from soft cotton in an old style, a very small pair of gray Calvin Klein cotton boxer-briefs and an old pair of jeans. "I am not going to start wearing your old football jersey like I'm some squeeze, Mark. I really don't want that!" I told him.
"Look Roger you don't have much choice. They're the smallest things I've got, they no longer fit me. You're gonna have to wear them. Nothing else will fit you in that frame." As I tried to protest further, I could see what he was saying. "In fact," he continued, "we can't go on calling you Roger. Until we can get this sorted we need another name cos if anyone does find out they'll think it mighty weird if your name is Roger! How about Camilla?"
"What sort of a name's that?"
"Well, Tara, my cousin's called Tara. You could pretend to be my cousin."
That idea clicked with me. "At least that way you'll know I'm off limits I s'pose." I told him.
By this time I was resigned to wearing Mark's clothes. I pulled the jersey on over my head and have to admit, at the smell of his body as I pulled it down I felt myself getting excited. I thought how glad I'd be to cover up my nipples as I pulled the soft green fabric down and felt them stiffen up. I hadn't banked for quite how large my breasts were though. The fabric strained against them and my nipples were clearly outlined. Boy, this would be fun if anyone saw me. I just hoped Mark didn't get any ideas. As he sat at his desk and went onto his computer I swiftly pulled on the rest of his clothes, pulling the CKs up over my legs and settling them on my hips. The material stretched as the waistband sat on my thin waist but the fabric strained on my much wider hips. I had to admit I looked damn cute. My former self would have loved it!
When I was done I looked at myself in the mirror. I still couldn't help but think I looked like Mark's squeeze in his small high school clothes. They couldn't help disguise my now gorgeous body and as I straightened my hair out it was almost impossible to believe I was really a guy. We had to sort this out. Mark stopped typing on his computer, turned round and started to say something...