“Let me get this straight, Jesus gave you a cock for your birthday?”

Spencer jams the phone between her ear and her shoulder. Either her ears were playing tricks on her or Ashley was.

“Uh, yes.” Ashley says. “Among other things. You know how you don’t believe in prayer? Well, you’re going to want to reconsider that, because yesterday I thanked Him for another great year, and asked if he could show me what life would be like as a man for a day.”

“Uh huh. Sure. Look, is this because of that Justin Timberlake poster I bought last week? I can’t believe you feel threatened by a poster.”

“If we could get back to the fact that I’m currently a man, that’d be great.”

“Oh, I get it. You’re a “man”. You know I’m down for whatever kinda freaky games you’ve got planned, hun.”

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. See you at the Black Orchid tonight.”

*******************

“You know what, you don’t even really look all that different.” says Spencer, licking tiramisu off her fork.

“So I was a manly looking woman? Thanks for that.”

“No, I mean, it’s just a little change in your bone structure. Jesus could’ve made you a less femme looking dude, to be honest. Maybe you should pray harder next time.”

“You’re only saying that because you know me so well. Look, my tits are gone. That’s not what I’d call a little change.”

“Yeah, Jesus better give those back tomorrow. I miss them already.”

She does. She’s way too addicted to Ashley’s regular body, and sometimes it gets her into trouble. “But in the meantime,” Spencer continues, “we can still have fun.” To emphasize this point, she slips off her heel and presses a foot between Ashley’s legs under the table. She’s done this many times, but rather than teasing her back, this time Ashley just looks nervous.

“Don’t do that.” Ashley hisses, color rising in her cheeks.

“Don’t do what?” Spencer says innocently, wriggling her toes.

Ashley looks helplessly around the restaurant, and Spencer starts to feel her rising against her foot. She doesn’t even try to hold back her laughter. Looking mortified, Ashley takes off her jacket, and holding it over her waist like a waiter’s cloth, departs in the direction of the restrooms. Spencer downs the last of her wine and follows.