Al Fresco: An Erotic Sci Fi Tale

"Thank goodness for modern science," Ali said as she smoothed her tight black skirt across her shapely hips. The tall brunette turned this way and that in front of her mirror, admiring her taut, toned, and trim figure. Her hands moved up from her hips to cup the twin handfuls at her chest, and she indulged in a brief nipple pinch just to tease herself.

A last touch of makeup and Ali was ready for the evening. Of course, if anyone had seen "Ali" two hours earlier when "she" came home from her office, they would have been completely confused. You see, by day, Ali was "Al," a corporate vice president on his way up the ladder to the top of the company. But, by night, "Al" became "Ali" -- the lovely female who looked at herself in the mirror so lovingly.

To resolve this conflict of observable data, we must journey back in time a year and visit a very unhappy Al Fresco, alone in his apartment, crying.

"God...I'm so confused. I know I'm really a woman trapped in a man's body...what can I do...I want the pain to stop. Maybe I just need to die."

Yes, Al had reached a low point in his life; and not just because his monologues were so absurd. Not willing to live an openly gay lifestyle -- he didn't consider himself gay, per se -- Al just wanted to be able to live life as a woman. He had no idea how he could pull off such a transformation and still keep his promising career as an executive in one of America's fastest growing companies. And, so, he was in the depths of depression. Suicide was on his mind. And then there were the dreams. Dreams of being transformed into the woman he knew lived inside. Dreams of being a powerful male figure, confident and self assured. Dreams filled with erotic images of sexual bliss with other men and women. The dreams were fantastically detailed, and what's more -- he remembered them when he awoke. But they only served to depress him all the more, for the stuff of his dreams was as far out of his reach as the stars up in the sky.