A continuation of Not quite ready
I was disgusted and ashamed after that first orgasm in my mom's body while in the shower and I promised to not do it again. Despite how wonderful it had been it was still her body and it just felt wrong to touch myself. I'd toweled off and covered myself quickly, all too aware of how my body moved and swayed. All was fine -- or as fine as could be considering my new life -- for the next few days. I tried to adjust being in mom's body, though resuming my routine was difficult. Everyone in class stared at me. They all knew what had happened. How could they not? I tried to forget about the orgasm I'd enjoyed, but my subconscious apparently didn't. A few weeks later I dreamed I was having sex with one of my ex-girlfriends, back in my old male body. I awoke with my hand between my legs, figners stoking the anxious fire the dream had left in me. My pussy was already wet as I clapped my legs together and forced myself to stop. I didn't want to touch my mom's pussy, but at the same time -- god, I did. And, fuck, I was so horny. I kept twisting in the bed, tense and uncomfortable, until finally I returned my fingers to my pussy and stroked up and down the line of my entrance. The tension built and I gripped the pillow, thrusting deeper into mom's wetness until the tension snapped, releasing me with a wonderful pleasure and I gasped in mom's silky voice, throwing my head back in the pillow as the second orgasm I'd ever had as a woman washed over me.