Dating a White Boy

"So your parents wouldn't like it if you were dating a white boy?" asked Garrett, "Is that it?"

"Naw, man," said Terrance, "It ain't like that. It's jus'..."

"No, it's ok," said Garrett, "Just give me a second --"

Garrett sat back on the bed, taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes. He appeared to be in deep concentration, but Terrance realized something was happening. There, in front of his eyes, Garrett's skin appeared to be darkening, going from a very pale white to a smooth, light brown. Garrett exhaled and opened his eyes, looking down at his arms.

"Is this dark enough for you?" he asked.

"Yeah, but --" said Terrance.

"Oh, I'm not done yet!" said Garret with a smile.

He gave his body a stretch, and as he did so, it changed in both shape and size, filling out a little bit with some nice, tight muscle. Then he brought his hands to his face, pushing and pulling and stretching out his features -- widening his nose, plumping up his lips. He ran his hands along his hair, and it receded into a tight buzz cut, and then as he ran them along his jaw, he sprouted a short goatee.

"Goatee, or no goatee?" he asked, wiping it away and then making it appear again.

"The goatee looks hot, bro," Terrance smiled, "Wow. Like the look, brotha'!"

"Yeah, well you know I do what'er it takes to make ma' boy happy," Garrett said, changing his voice to make it deeper and adding a hint of an Atlanta accent, "Now how 'bout dat kiss?"

Garrett pulled Terrance in, roughly kissing him with his new big, juicy lips.

"Damn, boy!" Terrance said, "You make one fine brotha'!"

"You know it!" Garrett said, "And if you ever get tired of me lookin' like this, baby boy, I can be what'er you want me to be!"