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I opened my eyes and stretched my limbs. For some reason, I felt more refreshed than I had in years. A good night's sleep can do wonders for a body.

I heard a noise emanating from the master bathroom and turned my head to the left to learn its source. An attractive woman stepped briefly into my view before entering the shower. I had to admire her lovely, nicely rounded ass and her very ample but relatively firm tits. She was one sexy woman!

A couple questions immediately came to mind. Who the hell was she? Why was she in my bathroom? The strange woman bore a resemblance to my wife, Bonnie, but the differences had been obvious as soon as I laid my eyes on her ass and tits. My wife's ass is broader and her tits are smaller and far less impressive in every way that could possibly matter.

I remained lying in bed as I considered my situation. I was clearly in my own bedroom and my own bed. The photos on the wall and the pine tree with the red birdhouse outside my window were testimony to my location. This had to be my room and I was almost certain that I was me, so who was she?

I thought back to the previous night and found I had no memory of it! I did remember getting up and eating some Cheerios and reading the morning paper. Try as I would, I was unable to recall anything past that point. How could I even be sure it was yesterday? A very uneasy feeling began to form in my gut as I climbed out of bed and threw on a pair of shorts. As lovely as the naked woman in my shower appeared to be, I simply had to find out what day it was, as well as try to determine what the hell was going on.

I hurried to my home office and fired up my computer. It was March 10, just as I had suspected. Only one day, Friday, was missing from my memory. It was just one day, but judging from the fact that a strange woman was in my bathroom taking a shower, some rather important events must have taken place.

Mulling over the situation, I meandered into the kitchen lost in thought. As I reached into the cupboard for the Cheerios, I heard a noise behind me. I spun around and saw a vision my mind refused to accept. Sitting at the kitchen table was a pudgy, green haired teenage girl with several piercings in her face. Just what the hell had happened yesterday?

The k** never even looked up from what appeared to be a Smart-phone in her left hand. Her lack of interest allowed me the opportunity to conceal my surprise and regain my composure. Maybe she was a friend of my daughter's? It just seemed unlikely to me that my daughter, Kate, would ever be friends with such a weirdo. But I could think of no other possible explanation for the k**'s presence at my table, unless the circus was in town.

"So, are you a friend of Kate's?" I asked cautiously.

The thumbs stopped pushing keys on the phone and the green hair slowly rose to reveal a pleasant faced girl. She actually bore a slight resemblance to Kate.

"No, Dad. I hate that bitch. What kind of dumb question was that? Are you hung-over, or stoned or something? Even I would never be friends with myself. I lack the social skills to maintain even my own friendship," she added sarcastically.

I turned to pull a bowl from another cupboard as I struggled to conceal the shock I had just experienced. This little freak claimed she was my daughter Kate? How could she think I would believe her? Was it a joke? Or had I entered the Twilight Zone? I looked around for that damn signpost up ahead and found none. No, it wasn't the Twilight Zone or even Outer Limits. Yet, it was freaky as all hell.

The girl had gone back to texting so I didn't feel any need to explain why I had asked what she so obviously felt was a really stupid question. My daughter was a straight A student and quite popular in school. She was strong, athletic and cute as a button. One missing day could never account for her transformation into this female version of Bozo. I made a very good living using my brain and deductive skills. I decided to handle this bizarre situation like one of my business dealings. I would try to say as little as possible and learn as much as I could before walking into some sort of minefield.

Then I heard a loud belch and once again swung around in surprise. Standing in the kitchen doorway was what could only be described as a big fat k**. He was probably a couple inches shorter than I and a couple years older than the green haired clown sitting at the table. He wore a huge t-shirt that came almost to his knees. It was short sleeved, but because it was at least size triple X, the sleeves extended beyond his elbows. His hair was uncut and his man boobs appeared to rival the tits of the woman in my shower. What the fuck was going on?

I watched in amazement as he waddled over to the refrigerator and pulled out half a double layer cake and carried it to the table. He then sat down and began to eat it! He never even cut a slice. He just started eating the damn cake. I must have been staring because he looked at me as he stuffed a forkful of icing into his mouth.

"What're you looking at, Dad? Did you want some of this cake?" asked Jumbo as soon as he managed to swallow the large chunk of icing.

I slowly shook my head and staggered from the kitchen. My son, Jim, was a powerful k**. He was a member of the school weight lifting team and planned on going out for the football team in the fall. The k** in my kitchen was a fat putz. The only resemblance between the two was the color of their hair and eyes.

Then the thought came to me. These two k**s claimed to be my progeny. Then where were my real k**s? I hurried upstairs to look into their bedrooms. As I had somehow expected, the rooms were empty. At least they were empty of human life, but crammed with electronics. I was amazed at the different lap tops, game boys, I-Pads, Plasma TV's, as well as some stuff I couldn't even identify. Both k**s' rooms had more shit in them than Best Buy!

As I wandered out of Jim's room in total confusion, I almost bumped into the formerly naked woman that had been in my bath. She was wearing a pair of shorts and a nice shirt and she looked hot as hell. I stopped in my tracks and waited for the words I was somehow certain that I would hear.

"Good morning, Honey! You slept late today. Usually you're outside mowing the five acre field you call the lawn before this. Are you okay?" she asked as I stood there with my mouth open.

"Yeah, I feel fine. I'll go mow the lawn right now," I promised directly to her tits. I raised my eyes to see a smile on her lips as she went past me and down the stairs.

Mowing the lawn is a great time to think. You can do the entire yard without ever having to concentrate on what you are doing. Hell, most guys can mow their yards in their sleep. As I went around the back yard, I considered my situation. I somehow knew that the missing day and the strange events of the morning were connected, but how?

Sometime later, I was mowing near the garage when I suddenly had a memory from the previous day. I concentrated on it and slowly things began to return. It took the rest of the morning to vaguely recall how I managed to wind up in my current circumstances.

I realized some of the pieces were still missing, but I had remembered enough to put much of the puzzle together. We, my family and I, had agreed to appear in a reality television show. It was similar to the one where wives switch families, but with some key differences. Obviously, one of the biggest differences was that the fathers switched families. As I tried to recall the way the show was done, I wondered how I ever agreed to the whole thing.

There would be no one operating any cameras. Somehow everything would be recorded and then edited later. We would all carry on as if we were truly just living our lives. Every member of the two families underwent some type of hypnosis in conjunction with some new, but supposedly harmless d**g. It would cause us all to believe we were actually a real family. Of course that made some interesting possibilities. I would be sleeping with the other guy's wife and he would be sleeping with mine, but it would not feel new or exciting. We were to be programmed to think that we had been married for many years.

I considered how that would limit the amount of sex and the enjoyment we derived from it. I struggled to believe that my wife Bonnie would have ever agreed to this sort of sleazy television, or that I would, for that matter.

Apparently, the treatment hadn't taken with me as completely as it should. I could remember a fair amount, but I still had huge gaps in my memory of the previous day as well as what I was supposed to do in this new reality that was my life. Was it a contest? Was I supposed to try to somehow win? Then I remembered that there was no time limit to how long this might last. They had told us it could be days, or weeks, or even longer. It all depended on the ratings!

Everyone we came into contact with would act as if we really were the family we thought we were in our hypnotized stupor. Other people in our lives would all get to be part of the show, playing themselves. I thought about that and realized that it would only be a matter of time before someone screwed up and said or did something to ruin the gig. It can't be easy, especially for school k**s, to maintain a charade like this, even though the producers had tried to match up the two families by appearances as much as possible. I decided to play along and not let anyone know that I had regained at least partial memory. That fact might allow me better insight into the show, what was expected of me, and what I had to do in order to win, if there was a winner.

Hell, I could play dumb with the best of them; actually far better than most. I put the lawn mower away and went back into the house. The woman that was playing my wife was leaning over the kitchen table, wiping some imagined spot off the oak surface. I played it cool and rubbed her ass through her shorts. She jumped and swung around to face me.

I was suddenly worried. Had I screwed up? Wasn't she supposed to think that she was my wife? Were there rules about touching that I couldn't remember? I braced myself and forced a smile.

"What's gotten into you, Chuck?" she demanded. "You know I don't like to be surprised and I certainly don't want to be mauled in public like some sort of tramp!"

I slowly looked around the room in an exaggerated fashion. Then I returned my gaze to my new wife, who I decided to call Bonnie, even though I knew that she was not Bonnie. To do anything differently would give away the fact that I knew what was going on, at least in part. Then it occurred to me that every word, every interaction, would be recorded somehow and possibly shown to millions of viewers. There must be tiny cameras all over the place! I sure didn't want my friends and family, not to mention millions of viewers, thinking I was a fucking wimp!

"This is hardly public, Bonnie," I responded calmly. "This is our kitchen and you're my wife, so it's well within the confines of the Geneva Convention. If you thought that was a mauling, I wonder what you'll think about this."

As I spoke, I reached up with both hands and gave her big tits a squeeze. I had to admit this new wife of mine had one hell of a nice rack. All the men watching would be impressed with my "handling" of the situation.

"Chuck! The c***dren could step in and see us at any time. Please try to control yourself," replied the stuck up bitch as she pushed my hands away from her bountiful chest.

"Hell, we'll feel the floor shaking long before those two get within sight," I countered. "The only think they've ever snuck up on is a banana split."

"Now you're belittling our c***dren? What's gotten into you? Are you feeling ill or something? Is there something going on, Chuck?"

"Well, now that you ask, I'd say there was. It looks like about a pound per day per k**," I chuckled, thinking how cool that would sound to all the viewers. "What the hell's wrong with you that you get bent out of shape when your husband feels you up a little? You didn't behave like that on our honeymoon."

I tossed that last sentence in so the producers and directors would think that I was totally sold on this being my wife and family. I was really beginning to get into this!

"We didn't have two k**s with us on our honeymoon and you treated me with respect back then. As I recall, you promised me that first night that you would never do anything to hurt or embarrass me. Can I expect you to keep your word, or are you going to go back on a promise after all these years?" countered this Bizarro Bonnie.

"Well, since you asked, I guess I'm reneging on that promise if squeezing those amazing tits and rubbing that smooth, round ass are things that hurt or embarrass you," I allowed. "I'll pretty much enjoy these puppies whenever the mood strikes me. That, I can promise, and I'll keep that promise."

She looked at me for a few seconds like I had two heads. Then she just made a production of clearing her throat and marching out of the room in complete disdain. I realized then that she was probably some sort of frigid bitch and her previous husband must have allowed her to get away with all sorts of bullshit.

Then it occurred to me. That was the goal of the show! It was like "The Taming of the Shrew", at least as much as reality TV could be compared to the work of The Bard. People would be watching to see what in hell I was going to do with the freak twins and the ice queen! Could I somehow whip the k**s into some sort of shape that even remotely resembled humans? Could I heat up the frozen bitch I had been saddled with? Somehow, I knew that if I could accomplish those daunting tasks, the show would be over, have great ratings and I would be a fucking national hero, at least for fathers and husbands everywhere.

Then I wondered if the real husband and father in this family was going to try to remake my real k**s into fat toads, and turn my wife into a cold bitch. No matter, I would just straighten them out when I got them back. I really hoped that he didn't have sex with my wife, the real Bonnie, as she was pretty timid and inexperienced. She had never had sex with anyone but me. Why had we ever agreed to appear on this show?

Pulling myself from my reverie, I went out and hopped into my car. Two hours later, I was back home, cleaning out my garage. I carried out all the good stuff I had been saving for years, but would never use. It became quite a pile, so I ordered a dumpster to be delivered Monday so I could shit-can all the crap I had lying around.

Bizarro Bonnie, BB, as I had come to think of my new wife, came out and announced that dinner was ready just as I finished sweeping the garage clean. I washed up and entered our eat-in kitchen. My supposed son was seated at the head of the table. He already had his plate filled with mashed potatoes, gravy, and three pork chops and was stuffing the potatoes into his rotund face.

Seated next to him was the green haired Bozo, eating with one hand and texting with her other. I reached down and grabbed the phone from her hand before she realized my intentions. I then tossed it in the general direction of the garbage can. It hit the side of it and bounced under the china cabinet.

I never broke stride. As I tossed the phone, I stepped up to TheHulk and proceeded to tip him and his chair over backwards. I felt a little bad when his head bounced once on the floor and the chair splintered into all sorts of small pieces. For a fat k**, he moved pretty fast! He jumped up to face me, his face flushed as he shook his head to clear it.

"I'll sit at the head of the table and no one will start eating until your mother and I are seated," I stated with amazing calm. "I'm not going to live with a damn glutton. Now move your shit out of my way and sit down next to your green headed sister. From now on, you'll eat no more than two chops and less than two pounds of potatoes, and you'll eat some vegetables. Now, do you have any questions? Comments? Complaints?"

The pudge-ball sucked it in, shook his head in the negative and carried his plate and drink to the vacant chair beyond his sister. BB was standing by the stove in absolute shock. She was actually speechless. I couldn't help but think how I was making some great theater as I turned to my next victim.

"Kate?" I began, feeling uncomfortable calling this creature by my beautiful daughter's name. "Don't ever bring your phone to the table again. From now on, you'll participate in dinner time conversation and help your mother where you can. Do you have any questions?"

She gave me a half sneer and then looked down and concentrated on her plate. I could see I had my work cut out for me with her. I carefully picked up the pieces of the broken chair and carried them out to the pile of junk from the garage. When I came back into the kitchen, The Green Hornet and The Stay Puft Marshmallow k** were sitting quietly, apparently waiting for me to take my seat. I carried an extra chair around to my place and put it down. Then I moved next to Bonnie's chair and held it out for her.

Still speechless, the woman living as my wife took her seat. The k**s sat with their mouths open, seemingly surprised that I would hold a chair for their mother. I couldn't help but think what a jerk the man of the house must be in this family. Well, things were going to change drastically.

"It probably went unnoticed, but I cleaned out the garage today. I tossed all the crap piled in the garage outside. I'll throw it into a dumpster I ordered for Monday," I added. "I can see you're all on the edge of your seats wondering how this bit of news affects you."

The woman with the amazing tits, as well as her progeny, sat stoically, seemingly totally disinterested. Well, that was about to change. Millions of people would be watching to see how I handled the situation. I knew if I handled it successfully, I would be looking at my picture on the cover of the tabloids at the local supermarket some Sunday afternoon.

"Since you ask, I'll explain what's going on. You k**s are on a collision course with a lifetime of ridicule and shame. To put it quite bluntly, you look like hell. If I took you to the beach, you'd have half a dozen harpoons in you before you could turn around," I predicted somewhat humorously knowing how my TV fans would love me for it. "That's unacceptable to me and it should be to you as well."

I had their attention now! BB was getting red faced and angry. Jim had the grace to be embarrassed and turned a bright crimson. Kate turned a deeper shade of green, but never looked up from her plate.

"Starting Monday, we are going to have healthy meals. I have contacted a dietician and she has worked up a menu for the next thirty days. Your mother will be following it when she prepares our dinners," I stated emphatically while looking at BB's angry eyes. "You two k**s will be going for a run with me every day after school and then we will work out in the garage on the weight machine I ordered today. You k**s will thank me in a few months. I'll admit that I can use some rearranging of my stomach and chest, so I'll be benefiting as well. This'll be fun!"

That declaration was met with dead silence. It bothered me for a few seconds, until I considered how cool it was all going to look on the small screen. These beach balls would shape up if it killed me.

That evening as I prepared for bed, I kept an eye on BB. She casually undressed to her panties, donned some pajamas and slid into bed. It was obvious that she thought I was her husband. There was no hesitation. There were no covert glances at little Chuck, like any normal woman would have done if she were looking a man she had never seen naked before.

I pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. This woman might be a stuck up bitch, but her tits and ass were all a man could ever want and I decided I was going to have some. I reached for her nearest tit and she grabbed my hand.

"If you think you're going to get any from me after that display in the kitchen at dinnertime, you can forget it!" she declared vehemently. "You ruined a good chair and you came close to giving Jim a concussion. You could've broken Kate's phone and you probably did irreparable harm to both of the k**s' self esteem. What in hell came over you?"

It was obvious I wasn't getting any of her best this night, so I decided to play to my audience. It was a distinct advantage to know we were being videoed for future broadcast.

"What about my self esteem, Bonnie?" I shot back. "How the hell do you think I feel having my own k**s walk around like the living dead? It's embarrassing to be seen with those two jokers."

"How can you speak about your own c***dren like that?" asked the amazed BB. "You know they are going through difficult times at school. They are subjected to ridicule and bullying almost every day and now they hear it at the dinner table from their own father? I won't stand for it!"

"I can imagine that they're having a tough time, Bonnie. Hell, I'd be ragging their asses if I were in school now. We had bullying when I went to school and my old man showed me how to fix it pretty quick."

"Really? Why is it so hard for me to imagine your father fixing any problem concerning social interaction? The man is a social moron," added BB.

"So now you're trying to ruin my Dad's self esteem, or would it be mine? I'll tell you how he fixed the problem. I whined to him that a big k** was picking on me. Dad told me either shut up and take it, or kick the other k** in the balls as hard as I could. I sucked it in and suffered the abuse for a couple more weeks. Then one day I just couldn't take it anymore. I drove the miserable bastard's nards into his chest cavity with my right foot. I had detention for a few weeks but the prick and his pals never bothered me again," I chuckled as I recalled the scene.

"So you're going to solve our c***dren's problems by having them resort to v******e. Tell me what happens if the bullies strike them back, or if the k**s get expelled, Chuck Norris?"

"This solution isn't without risk, Bonnie, but neither is anything else in life. They have to learn to take care of themselves and walking around like circus performers won't help. I guarantee that. There're worse things than getting the crap kicked out of you while defending yourself. One of them is getting the crap kicked out of you without defending yourself. Another is losing all feeling of self worth and committing suicide. These k**s need to toughen up, mentally and physically," I insisted.

"If you harm those c***dren, or get them in trouble, or embarrass them, Chuck, I'll be all over you," promised Bonnie. "You've always been too busy with your damn company to spend time with them. Now you get all nasty about how you don't like the way they're turning out. I've done as much as I can, but the need a father that notices them and cares. Where in hell do you suppose we'll find him?" demanded Bonnie angrily.

"You're looking at him, Babe," I responded immediately. "You know that I've received an offer to buy out our company and I'm seriously considering it. If the lawyers and accountants can work out something that doesn't kill us in taxes, it'll be a done deal within a week. That's why I told the k**s I'm going to be working with them to get them into shape."

"Yeah? Well the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, Chuck. You'd better not harm the k**s, mentally, socially, or physically," warned Bonnie.

Monday morning saw me on the internet after the k**s left for school and Bonnie headed off to work. I briefly considered following my alleged wife to see if they allowed her to teach my real wife's third grade class. How were they going to work that out, I wondered and then dismissed it. I reminded myself that I had to appear oblivious to the whole family switch. If I checked to see where my new wife was actually going, it would call unwanted attention to me.

Our high school was pretty progressive and had given us the option to sign up for information about how our k**s were doing on the internet. We had elected to take that option, so I had gone to the school's site and plugged in our password. What I found was pretty damn upsetting. Kate and Jim were slackers, to put it mildly. Their marks were barely passing and the teachers' comments were quite damning. Generally, the prevailing opinion was that the k**s could do much better if they only applied themselves.

I also considered how the producers of the show had already thought of the internet and had the two k**s from this family inserted in my k**s' school records, photos and all. I wondered what it must cost to pull off a switch like this so thoroughly. These guys were good.

I spent the rest of the morning cleaning house. In the early afternoon my home gym machine was delivered and I spent a couple of hours assembling it in the garage. I was ready when the k**s were dropped off by the school bus.

"k**s, get changed into something comfortable to run in and we'll head out right away!" I urged with all the enthusiasm I could muster. "We'll do a few miles and then pump some iron on this cool weight machine. Then we'll do some studying. You'll love it."

Jim acted confused and Kate just got angry immediately. As I watched her come to a boil, I realized she was in for some bad days ahead.

"I have to call Marcie. Then I have to post some stuff on Facebook before my favorite show comes on. So, you guys go on without me. Do some father-son bonding. Besides, I'm not fat like Jim," sneered the little shrew.

I reached over and pulled the phone from her hand and slid it into my pocket. Then I held my hand palm up to Jim and he placed his cell phone in it. I slid it into my pocket next to his sister's.

"There's a new sheriff in town, k**s. He's a miserable bastard and he's pretty determined. Go on up and get changed. I'll be waiting here."

Less than two minutes later both k**s rushed back out to brace me in the garage, madder than wet hens.

"What happened to all of my stuff, Dad?" demanded Kate. "My TV's gone, along with my Wii, my lap top, my IPad...everything is missing," cried Kate. "Now I won't be able to study, or do my homework."

"My room looks empty, Dad," complained Jim. "What happened to all of our stuff?"

"I checked your grades online today and they were pretty bad, k**s. All of that junk didn't seem to be doing much to help your education. Sitting around playing games sure didn't help your physical condition any, either. You're not born entitled to every damn electronic device known to man. You need to earn those. The first step in that effort will be to get changed and go for a run with me. You'll get your stuff back as you earn it. Now let's get cracking."

The k**s left and soon Jim was back in a pair of sweats and a jacket. We waited five more minutes and Kate never returned. I went to her room. The door was locked.

"Kate, open the door and get out here. We're ready to start," I explained.

"Go to hell!" hollered Kate through her door.

"This sounds like typical teenage rebellion," I announced loudly to myself, and my TV audience, as I raised my foot and kicked in the door.

Kate was standing by her bed in stunned silence. She had changed into some sort of exercise outfit and for that I was glad. I simply took her by the hand and led her downstairs. I had the k**s climb into the car and started driving.

"Since we're just starting and we don't want our neighbors to see what pathetic losers the three of us are, we'll go run a log trail through our wooded property near your grandfather's place. That way, no one will see us and we won't embarrass ourselves too badly," I reasoned.

Jim nodded his head in appreciation while Kate just looked down. She was a stubborn one! When we got there we started running easy and made it less than a hundred yards, and then we had to walk. I had Kate's hand in mine and pulled her along. I warned her that I'd literally drag her with us if she didn't work to keep up. We walked as rapidly as we could the rest of the three mile loop through the woods and were all sweating profusely by the time we were in sight of the car.

I drove back home and managed to grab Kate's hand before she disappeared into the house. I led her into the garage and Jim followed on his own volition. My shiny new weight machine was there waiting for us to tone up.

I started the k**s out with light repetitions and worked with them. I promised Kate that if she cooperated for twenty minutes, I would let her go get showered. Then she would have to hit the books. Jim actually showed some interest in some of the exercises and did better than I thought he would in several of them. My arms and chest were tight by the time we stopped and went inside to clean up.

"Why doesn't the TV work, Chuck?" asked Bonnie after dinner was over. "I can't get any channels at all."

"I disconnected the cable to it, Bonnie. You don't watch TV very often and the k**s watch too much. The TV in our bedroom still works if you want to watch it. The k**s are determined to improve their marks, and American Idol isn't on any college entrance exams that I ever heard of," I allowed.

Bonnie looked at the k**s sitting with their noses in school books, and then back at me. Then she picked up a romance novel and opened it to her page and began reading.

That night in bed, I slid over next to Bizarro Bonnie and ran my hand under her top and took a luscious tit into my hand.

"I don't think so, Buster. You haven't told me how Kate's door got so smashed and why the k**s are so quiet, why they're studying, and what happened to all of their electronics."

I explained what had transpired that afternoon while Bonnie just shook her head in disbelief.

"What the hell is going on with you, Chuck? You don't act like the man I married. You're being cruel and indifferent to the k**s' needs and feelings. You're destroying the house, one chair or door at a time. Did the doctor put you on medication or something? Are you going to beat me until I have sex with you now?"

'Damn it, Bonnie. I would never force myself on any woman once she convinced me that she didn't want me. That certainly includes you. Have I ever touched you in anger?"

I was curious what her answer would be. Who knows what the jackass she was married to would do? Maybe he was a wimp that hit women.

"No, Chuck. You know you've never even come close to hurting me that way. It's just that your behavior has been odd lately and it concerns me. I won't tolerate you hurting the k**s, either," she warned as I rolled over and closed my eyes, wondering what would be edited out of the bedroom scenes.

The next day when we finished our run, BB met us in the garage with three shoe boxes in her hand.

"As long as you three are determined to improve your conditioning, I thought you could use some good running shoes," she stated as she handed each of us a box. The next day we all wore them and they really were a lot better for our feet.

"When will I get my phone back?" asked Kate on the ride back home after our jog through the woods a few days later.

She took me by surprise as she had not spoken a word to me since I had kicked in her door. She had offered no resistance to our new routine, although it was obvious that she didn't want any part of it, or me.

"Okay, Kate," I answered evenly. "What would be a reasonable goal for you to achieve in order to regain phone privileges? You know what I'm trying to do here and why. What're your thoughts?" I asked.

"You want us to get better grades, drop some fat and tone up and look more like k**s you can be proud of," suggested Kate. "It'll take forever to get as skinny as you want us to be, or to run as far as you would like. How about if I stop doing my hair different colors? Could I have my phone back if I did that?"

I considered her request carefully before I responded, "I'll tell you what. Once you hair goes back to its natural color and you get rid of all of your piercings, I'll return your phone."

Kate's face went dark. She folded her arms across her chest and sulked. She never expected me to be this tough. She was stubborn, but so was I. The next day she surprised me again. We were in the car heading for home after our feeble attempts at running.

"How about this, Dad? I'll remove all my piercing right away and stop coloring my hair, for my phone. It'll take a couple weeks and lots of washing to get it back to my natural color. That seems fair," she concluded.

"Okay, as long as you keep up with your school work and exercises. If you start backsliding, you'll lose the phone again," I warned.

To my surprise, Kate stuck her hand out and smiled. I took her hand and shook it. We had a deal. Jim had been silent during my discussion with Kate so I looked to see if he was going to ask for his phone back, too.

"Jim, do you want to see what you can do to get your phone back?" I asked.

"Not really, Dad," he responded unenthusiastically. "I don't really have any friends to call anyway, so I hardly miss it."

I felt bad for the k**, but knew that improved marks in school and a better body image would help him immeasurably. Damn the father that allowed his k**s to sink to such depths. On the other hand, Jim never tried to slack on the runs or workouts, as pathetic as his attempts at running were. I was determined to stay the course.

BB was really a big help with the diet. I was more than a little surprised how she stuck to the plan, yet was able to create meals that were delicious as well as nutritious. She was really an excellent cook.

She was also a very good mother. I couldn't help but notice how comfortable both Kate and Jim were with her. They would discuss movies, friends, school, in fact, almost anything. Bonnie never preached, but she did keep pointing them in the right direction. This family seemed to be fairly strong. The obvious weak link was the asshole father. I just hoped that my influence would be enough to get the k**s on the right track.

In the bedroom, I was striking out. I began to suspect that my so-called wife had also regained some of her memory, as she was having no part of me. The first week or so didn't bother me too much since I was sore all over and tired as hell from working out with the k**s. After that, it began to annoy me. I had always had a very satisfactory sex life with my real wife and forced abstinence had never been part of my routine.

Finally it came to a head one night. I had tried to fondle BB in bed and she had once again rejected my advances. I lost my cool.

"What in hell is bothering you, Bonnie? You're acting like a frigid bitch."

"Are you that stupid, Chuck?" she demanded. "I tried for years to make the k**s eat right and you kept bringing home candy, soda, chips, desserts, fast foods, and tons of ice cream. I finally gave up. Then you announce at dinner last week that you spoke to a dietician and have a menu that you want me to follow, as if it's my fault the meals have too many calories and not enough iron, protein, good carbs and all that other shit I'm cooking for you now.

"You let yourself go and encouraged the k**s to be couch potatoes by getting them all those damn electronic gadgets because you're a software genius and wanted the k**s exposed to that shit early in life. So now I have two overweight k**s and a ball of lard for a husband, who, by the way, is passing all the blame for it over to me. That might have something to do with why I am not trying to give you an incredible blowjob right now, Chuck," she finished sarcastically.

Wow! I didn't realize how much contempt she had for her husband. The guy was a real dick if anything BB told me was even remotely true. He was the reason the k**s were fat, and apparently he was pretty pathetic as well. I realized that I had my work cut out for me. I also realized that she had no clue that I wasn't really her husband. She had heaped all his stupid actions on my head. It was also clear that the guy's sex life had been in the toilet for some time. BB had pretty much given up on love and romance. She felt deserted and alone, abandoned by a fat, foolish workaholic husband.

"Okay, Bonnie," I said gently, before deciding to ham it up for the audience. "I can see that you're a little worked up, so don't worry about giving me a blowjob for a few days. I can wait until you're feeling better about all of this."

"Asshole!" was all she said as she rolled away from me and closed her eyes.

I thought I would give BB a few days to get over her funk before I tried my luck with her again. Tuesday evening she informed me that we would be attending a party at our neighbor's Saturday night. I decided that would be the night for me to score with this frustrating, but sexy woman that was supposed to be my wife. Little did I know.

The party was just down the street a couple blocks so we decided to walk rather than worry about driving home after drinking. As we walked I wondered just how this would work. Everyone at the party had to be informed about the real Bonnie being replaced for the TV show. How would they handle it? Would BB know the same people that my wife had known for years? How could that knowledge be hypnotized into a person? Did she have a folder with all our friends and neighbors pictures and histories in it? I began to realize to what lengths the producers had gone to generate a seemingly true reality for the show.

BB was wearing a low neckline and her cleavage looked fantastic. I knew the audience at home would be expecting me to move her world before long, and Little Chuck was eager as hell to show the viewers just what he was capable of doing. I decided to get BB a bit tipsy and hurry her home to show her, and the viewing public, unspeakable delights.

I watched as she mingled with the other partiers. How could they all be such good actors? Everyone chatted with her like they had known her for years, and she knew the names of the guests, as well as their k**s. Like OJ Simpson, I was beginning to wonder just how deep this conspiracy went.

I had a couple beers and kept BB in my sights. I couldn't cling to her all night as we had supposedly been married for years and that wouldn't be normal. Still, I wanted to be prepared if she showed signs of being a little tipsy. That would be my cue to rush her home and show the fans just how a real man handles his wife in the old bedroom.

Then I saw that damn Steve Fargo start hanging around BB. He was married with three k**s. In fact, his wife was home taking care of a six month old baby and he was at the party, showing interest in the treasures under BB's panties. What a prick.

I had to admire his determination. He wasn't pushy, but he was unrelenting. He chatted BB up and down, he fetched her drinks, and he even shared some hors d'oeuvres from his plate. It was a good thing I was paying attention to his every move or I would have missed seeing him guide BB out the back door.

I had been in the house often enough to know there was a patio and flower garden in back. It was a pretty good place for romance, if a couple were so inclined. I slipped out the front door and slowly circled the house.

I heard them before I saw them and that was partly because they were in a shadowy area near an old bench. As I finally caught sight of BB, she was being pulled down on Fargo's lap as he sat on the bench. I could hear the surprise in her voice as she realized her situation.

"Steve, you really shouldn't be doing this. We're both married and have c***dren, so please let me up before we find ourselves in some kind of trouble," reasoned BB.

"Bonnie, no one will find us here, so don't worry. Besides, what could Fat Chuck do if he did find us?" asked that bastard Fargo. "You're way too fine for him. You need a man to show you what you've been missing."

"Steve, I don't think...ahhh!" squealed Bonnie as that fucking Fargo pulled her face to his and tried to swallow her tongue..

What little light that reached the secluded bench was suddenly blocked by my approaching form. I was pissed, yet still able to consider what my fans would expect from me. I realized they needed to see me kick Fargo's ass. That would be some good reality TV!

"What the fuck?" I snarled as I yanked BB from Fargo's lap, and his grasp.

Her tits in her low top, I noticed in the dim light, were simply remarkable. I realized she would be getting some fan mail from admirers when this was over. Then Fargo made the mistake of standing. I pulled back and smacked him flush on the chin so hard my hand hurt. I was considering kicking him in the balls before he regained consciousness when I heard him growl.

To my eternal shock, Fargo was still standing. He at least at the decency to rub his chin a little before he knocked me ass over tin cup with a right hand I never even saw. While I was struggling to regain my senses, I felt a hard blow to my nuts. I rolled over in a fetal position and vomited all the beer and hot wings I had consumed over the course of the evening. I considered checking to see if my balls were resting on top of the vomit before me. Boy, did they ache!

"You stupid fat bastard. You should know better than fucking with a real man. You can't take care of your wife, but some of us can, and we will. She's too nice a piece of ass for a ball of lard like you," laughed Fargo as he turned and headed back to the party.

BB was crying as she rearranged her dress. I had managed to get on all fours and was trying to gingerly stand up. She reached down and gripped my left arm.

"Just leave me the fuck alone," I managed between gasps. "You've done enough already."

With that, I managed to get my feet under me and rise more or less, to a standing position. I was still bent over holding my stomach, but I was now able to move, so I headed out to the sidewalk and turned north toward home.

Suddenly, I missed my real wife and real k**s. Why had I ever gone along with this goddamn TV show? Things in my life had been going great. We had no reason to get involved in this bullshit. As I staggered home, I wondered if there was someone I could call to get me the hell off the show and back with my real family.

Then I considered BB. If I couldn't somehow swing ending my family's participation in this televised debacle, I would at least rethink my actions toward her. Was it my responsibility to bring a fucking frigid wife around, especially when she was only frigid with her dumb ass husband? As I limped up the sidewalk, I decided I had had enough of her miserable attitude. Let her fuck the whole damn neighborhood! What difference did it make to me? I'd have the last laugh when the show ended and she found out the entire country watched what a cheating bitch she really was. I wanted to be there to see her expression then!

When I got home, I was barely able to make it upstairs. I grabbed some clothes for morning as well as a pail to puke in and lurched off to the spare bedroom. I laid down in a fetal position mulling over what an ass I had made of myself. sleep finally claimed me.

The next day was Sunday. The previous two Sundays I had taken the k**s for an early run. This morning saw me lying in bed, feeling sorry for myself. My balls showed surprisingly little after-effects from Fargo's rough treatment. My chin really didn't hurt too much for having been hammered the previous night. I was simply depressed over my most recent failures. Who'd a thunk that Fargo was such a tough bastard? Then I received a real surprise. There was a soft knock on my door and it slowly opened to show Kate, or at least the Kate of this reality, standing in her running clothes.

"Here you are, Dad! I guess you and mom had a fight since you're sleeping in the guest room. I hate to bother you on a Sunday, but you did say that we would run early on Sunday mornings. I'm ready to go. Jim is getting dressed, so we're waiting for you. Daylight is burning!"

"Okay, Kate, I'll be right with you. Just give me a minute to get ready," I requested as I considered what had just transpired.

Kate was actually acting anxious to go out and run that three mile course! That had to be the silver lining in my pretty damn dark cloud.

Kate chattered as we drove out to the wooded lot where we ran. She seemed happier now than at any time since the day I had first seen her sitting at the table texting like her life depended on it. I didn't want to ruin the moment, so I didn't press her on the reason for her apparent positive mood swing. I was happy to see her hair had faded to a very light green. She was apparently keeping her word about not coloring it any more. Jim seemed to be content as he responded to his sister's questions and statements. I was making headway with the k**s, but losing badly with BB.

We settled into a status quo for the next few weeks. The k**s seemed to be happier. I had given Jim his phone back when he showed me that he had made some improvement in his grades. Kate's hair had finally morphed to a very lovely dark brown and the holes where her piercings had been were barely noticeable. She now had use of her plasma television as a reward for bringing her school marks up a notch.

BB and I were still sleeping in different rooms and barely speaking. I don't know if she was mad because I spoiled her fun with Fargo, or if she was embarrassed for being caught kissing him. It really didn't matter as long as she left me alone. I was fine with the notion of showing the audience that I wasn't some pussy whipped wimp. I was determined to prove to them that I could get along without her quite nicely.

In late June, Kate asked me if we could start running in our neighborhood rather than driving to the old log road to do our conditioning. Since both k**s and I had improved dramatically in the couple months we had been working out, I agreed. When we stepped outside the next day to begin our run, two girls dressed in running shorts were walking up the drive. Kate trotted out to meet them. Then she introduced them to me.

"Dad, Jim already knows these girls. The blonde one is Chris Macklin and the redhead is Hope Lawrence. I was talking to them the other day about how we've been running for a couple months and they want to run with us, or at least with me. They're on the school cross country team and want me to go out for it next fall. If they think I'm good enough, I'll be joining the team."

We started our run and after about thirty seconds, the three girls were going over the first hill and out of sight. I didn't realize that Kate had improved that much.

"Well, Jim, it looks like us two slow pokes will be running together. We'll never keep up with them," I chuckled.

"What you mean 'we", Paleface?" asked Jim as he kicked his running up a notch and pulled away from me. I was wondering how in hell a fat k** could run so fast, as I watched him rounding a curve up ahead. Then I suddenly realized that Jim wasn't all that fat anymore. With grim determination, I increased my pace.

By the time I finished my 3 mile loop and staggered back up my driveway, Kate and Jim were showing Chris and Hope the exercises they did on our weight machine.

"Wow! Jim, I never realized how strong you are," gushed Hope. "I can't lift even a third that much and you do it fifteen times?"

I glanced at Kate and she was pretending to poke a finger down her throat and barf. I guess sisters just don't get impressed with the feats of their brothers. Then I looked closer at the machine and saw that Jim was bench pressing the same amount that I use in my sets, and I thought I was doing quite well!

"Jim, you've got to join the weight lifting club at school," opined Chris as she watched in almost rapture as Jim completed his set. "My brother's in it and he loves it. He says it helps him with conditioning and strength for football. You know, you should play football next year, Jim. My brother says the coach is always looking for big, strong guys, especially if they can run as well as you."

I decided to leave the k**s alone and went into the house for a drink of water. I knew there was nothing I could say or do that would help Jim's self esteem as much as two teenage girls ogling his muscles. As I finished my glass of water, the phone rang.

It was Marge Sampson and she was inviting Bonnie and me to a house party next weekend. I couldn't think of a good reason to decline, so I hesitatingly accepted. I had been rethinking my reaction to the Fargo fiasco. I never gave BB a chance to explain her side. My pride had been smashed, along with my nuts, and I was hurt and embarrassed. I needed to consider every possibility before ruining this marriage. I just hoped the other husband would be making the same effort for mine.

After dinner, I helped BB clean up the dishes. As I was loading the dishwasher, I mentioned that Marge had invited us to a party next Saturday. BB's face went dark immediately.

"Did you decline the invitation, Chuck?" asked BB nervously.

"No, Bonnie, I didn't. It's time we came out of this self imposed exile and had some fun. I accepted for us and even promised we'd bring a dessert. Are you willing to go with me, Bonnie?"

"Are you asking me on a date, Chuck? Even after what happened at the last party? You haven't spoken to me since and I thought you might be thinking about throwing me to the curb," BB admitted sheepishly.

"Exactly what happened that night, Bonnie? Was I somehow mistaken in what I thought I saw?" I asked, hopefully.

"Chuck, if you think you thought you saw me on Steve Fargo's lap with him kissing me, you saw correctly," BB assured me. "What you may not have seen was what led up to it. I foolishly walked out in the patio with Steve to cool off and get some fresh air. I had no intention of any sort of hanky panky, Chuck.

"He maneuvered me down into that dark corner and suddenly sat on the bench, pulling me down on his lap. I was taken by surprise and even more so when he started kissing me. Before I could react, you had come to my rescue and Steve let me up."

"I seem to remember that part pretty clearly, Bonnie. You stepped away, and then he stood up. Then I bruised my knuckles on his chin, got knocked on my ass and had my nuts crushed. After that, it gets a little fuzzy. Did smashing my balls against his foot somehow appear like I was rescuing you, Bonnie? From my vantage point, it seemed like I had the shit kicked out of me. I embarrassed myself and did nothing to defend your honor, or mine," I added.

"Chuck! You didn't know that Steve was a boxer. He almost made the Olympics twenty years ago. I would never expect you to be a match for him. The important thing was that you did your best for me. I feared that you believed I was going along willingly with him. From the way you acted when I tried to help you up, I thought you hated me. I know I should've never allowed him to get me into that situation in the first place. I've been too ashamed to look you in the eyes since," confessed BB.

"That's interesting, Bonnie. After he beat me so easily, I've been feeling pretty damn low. I thought I'd pretty much destroyed any respect that you may have ever had for me. Truthfully, my first reaction was that you were a slut and I could live without you. When I was feeling better the next day, I began to play it all over in my mind and you did seem to be pushing him away pretty strongly when I arrived. I know you aren't a slut, or even close.

"The fact remained that I had failed to protect my wife properly and had reacted badly to her attempts to help me after I had been hurt. I decided to just hide in the guest room rather than subject myself to more embarrassment. You had to think I was a worthless fat piece of shit. I know I'm not a Charles Atlas, Bonnie. I'm trying to get rid of the fat and tone up so you can be proud of me. You always look so damn beautiful and sexy that I'm afraid you're out of my league. You can do better than a fat putz that can't even defend your honor, or his own."

"You think I'm sexy and beautiful, Chuck? You haven't told me that in years. And I didn't fall in love with a putz. I fell for a smart, gentle, loving, hard working man," replied BB.

"What's his name?" I asked quickly. "I'll hire someone to whack him!"

"Why don't you move back into our room tonight and I'll point him out to you, Chuck," suggested BB.

I had my stuff moved back to the master bedroom in less time than it takes to tell it. It wasn't even eleven yet when I slipped naked under the covers. I lay in bed with my eyes glued to the bathroom door. Finally it opened and BB came out wearing a very transparent nightie. I suddenly realized that I didn't want the millions of people seeing her revealed so completely. This was supposed to be an intimate moment between husband and wife, and not a soft porn show for desperate housewives and construction workers.

Then I remembered that she wasn't really my wife. Most of the men watching would be rooting for me to bang her brains out. I would be a regular hero tomorrow around the water coolers of corporate America. I would also be a guy that was knowingly unfaithful to his wife, as well as being the direct cause of making another man a cuckold, as well as damaging this beautiful woman's reputation. She was a wife and mother and deserved some respect. Damn it!

BB slid into bed next to me. She leaned over and gave me a toe curling kiss. I could feel her amazing tits against my chest as I ran my hand over her back and down to her ass. This was one sexy woman with curves in all the right places. Then I regained my senses.

"Bonnie, I didn't mention it, but the doctor told me that I needed to give my balls a month or two to recover from the kick Fargo delivered to them," I lied, hoping it sounded plausible. "Let's just lie here and cuddle for awhile. I should be fully recovered before too long. Doc doesn't want me getting too aroused and ejaculating, or at least trying to cum. He said it could cause permanent damage, so I should not be allowing myself to become too aroused."

"Oh. Chuck! I didn't realize how badly he hurt you! Is the doctor sure that you'll make a full recovery? I feel terrible that I was the cause of so much pain. Can I do anything to help you relax, Darling?"

As she spoke, BB pulled back slightly to look at my face. Her wonderful tits swung pretty much unencumbered just below my chin. It was all I could do to keep from blasting off right there and then.

"Just hold me while we sleep, Bonnie, and I'll be a happy man. As she snuggled up to me and fell into a deep sleep, I pondered my situation. There could be no doubt that this TV show would go into syndication and be shown numerous times over the next twenty years. I had to consider what sort of image I really wanted to project.

I'd been fortunate that my little stunt of tipping Jim over while he was stuffing his face at the dinner table didn't result in some serious harm to Jim. How would I have faced his real parents if I had caused brain damage or death? How would I face my wife if I tapped this beauty sleeping next to me? What about when the k**s watched the show? I could always claim I was hypnotized and honestly believed that this woman was my wife, but I knew the truth.

I began to rethink what I wanted people to say about me when they gathered around the water cooler discussing the show. I had the decided advantage of knowing I was involved in a true reality production and could make an attempt to seen as one of the good guys. The rest of the members of both families believed it was reality. I decided that if my wife actually had sex with her perceived husband, I would not hold it against her. How could I when we both agreed to appear in this stupid damn show? What in hell was I thinking when I agreed to it? I didn't need the money. Was it the chance for fame? Did Bonnie talk me into it? Or did I talk her into it, or was it a mutual decision? I just couldn't dredge up any memories of discussing the decision with Bonnie and the k**s, and that troubled me.

We walked across the street and down the block to Marge Sampson's house. BB looked really good, but showed far less of her chest than she had at the previous party. I kept hitching my pants up as we walked. I had purchased them a couple weeks ago since my old pants were getting way too big. Now my new pants weren't fitting properly either.

BB stayed close to my side and I really enjoyed her company. I was just finding out what an interesting, intelligent woman she really was. It's funny how much a man can learn about a woman once he stops concentrating on her tits and ass and actually listens to what she is saying.

Steve Fargo showed up, this time with his wife in tow. She was a mousy little thing and seemed totally cowed by the miserable prick. Small wonder he wanted to drill BB. There was no comparison between the two women and he and I both knew it. I intentionally made my way to the beer cooler at the same time Fargo did.

"I can see why you were so hot for Bonnie, you miserable fuck," I smiled as I spoke in a low voice only Fargo could hear. "Your poor wife looks like a fucking mouse, afraid of her own shadow. Bonnie has her beat, hands down and tits up, and she's my wife. You probably think about Bonnie when you fuck your little mouse, don't you Fargo? I just want you to know what a gentleman I am. I guarantee I won't be thinking about your wife when I'm fucking the shit out of Bonnie tonight."

Fargo just scowled at me as I grinned and strolled away. I didn't consider my taunts as any real type of revenge, but I had decided to save that for when I was in really good physical condition, and when every minute of my life was not being videoed. My plans for the prick weren't anything I'd want anyone to witness, let alone broadcast on network television.

BB and I had a great time with neighbors and friends. I probably had a beer or two more than I needed, but I was far from drunk. I was just mellow. BB wasn't feeling any pain as we managed to make our way back home. We climbed the stairs and successfully navigated the hallway to our bedroom.

I don't know exactly how it happened, but as soon as the door was closed, we went at each other like a****ls in heat. I pulled BB's dress over her head and tossed it in the general direction of her closet. She popped the buttons off my shirt in her frustration to undo them. I just managed to unhook her bra before she dropped to her knees in front of me while tugging at my belt. BB struggled with the button on my pants for a few seconds and then just gave a hard tug that sent the button bouncing off her left tit. Unfazed, she pulled my boxers down and gave an audible sigh when my cock made its appearance.

"Chuck! I've missed this bad boy so much," she groaned as she worked her hand up and down my shaft. "I'll be gentle, but if your balls start to hurt, let me know and I'll stop."

I watched as she engulfed my cock in her mouth and carefully cupped my balls in her hand. I quickly decided the pain would have to be off the Richter scale before I asked Bonnie to stop what she was doing. It had been a very long time for me and sadly, I didn't last nearly as long as I would have liked. BB never missed a beat as she drained me dry, then smiled at me as she regained her feet and gave me a lingering kiss.

I picked her up and carried her to our bed. As I gently placed her down on her back, BB began to run her hands all over me.

"Jesus, Chuck!" she exclaimed. "Look at your chest and stomach. I think there's a six pack forming in there. You look fantastic!"

At that moment in time, she couldn't have said anything to enflame my desire more. BB thought I looked pretty buff? It caused me to redouble my efforts to please this beautiful goddess. I pulled off her panties and dove into her trimmed muff headfirst.

She tried to pull my head off her after her first orgasm. By her third, she was too weak to lift her arms. I kissed my way up her torso as she gasped for air. I lingered a couple minutes on her incredible tits. Then I pulled my head off her chest, lined my raging cock up with her sex and plunged into her. She almost threw me back off as she bucked under me in the throes of the mother of all orgasms.

I managed to stay in the saddle until she calmed down and then I began to give her everything I had. I noticed that I seemed to be able to go deeper now that my stomach was a smaller. My stamina was unbelievable. I hadn't enjoyed sex so much in twenty years, if ever. BB as speaking gibberish by the time I felt my balls start tingling, signaling the start of my climax. It felt like I pumped a quart of cum into BB before I finally ran dry and began to go soft.

We lay side by side for a few minutes before she whispered into my ear, "Chuck, that was the best sex we've ever had. Where's my husband and what've you done with him? You were fantastic and I'm going to want a lot more of what you just gave me, Lover."

I suddenly realized that I had done exactly what I had been determined not to do. I had sex with the other guy's wife! Everyone would know it. Shit, a lot of guys would probably record it so they could watch watch it over and over. I knew I would if it were someone else. "What would I tell my wife," were my last thoughts as I sunk into a deep sleep.

The next morning, I woke feeling great physically. I felt bad about making love to another man's wife, especially after I had done such a remarkable job with her. How in hell would he ever be able to live up to the sex machine now known as Chuck? Then I felt more than a twinge of jealousy as the thought of BB sleeping with another man, even if it was her husband. The very notion upset me more than I cared to admit. I considered my emotions and it was pretty obvious that I had strong feelings for the sexy woman lying next to me. That caused me to feel guilty when I thought about my real wife. I could hardly even remember what she looked like!

I climbed out of bed and used the bathroom. Then I went down for my bowl of cheerios. As I reached into the cupboard, a cheery voice called to me from the table.

"Good morning, Dad! Have any energy left for our run. It sounded like you were doing a marathon with mom last night," laughed Kate.

Kate! My real daughter was sitting at the table. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail. She was wearing running shorts and a sports bra and her stomach looked strong and tight and her legs were long and athletic. My beautiful Kate was back!

"How come you're staring at s*s, Dad?" demanded a voice from the kitchen doorway.

I turned in that direction and saw my son Jim standing there. He held his shirt in his hand. His chest and abs showed muscle and definition, with just a hint of flab over his waist. His easy smile and deep blue eyes reminded me of his mother. He was one good looking k**.

Then I thought about my wife. Was she back, too? With more than a little trepidation, I went back upstairs to our bedroom. Carefully, I pulled the sheet back from the sleeping form. I marveled at the beauty of the woman sleeping in my bed. Her tits were works of art and her legs were long and slender. Her face was beautiful, but she wasn't my wife!

I left the bedroom and headed for my home office. I suddenly knew I had to call Dr. Roberts. He would straighten this out. I opened my rolodex to his name and saw a DVD wedged in it. I pulled it out and slid it into my computer. What was it, and who had placed it there? The monitor suddenly lit up and Dr. Roberts appeared on scr