Best Served Cold2 A Dish Served Cold
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Reality Is A Dish Best Served Warmed Over Slightly free porn video
Reality is a Dish Best Served Warmed Over Slightly
By Bill Hart
John Burroughs cautiously knocked on the front door of the house.
After the long and exhausting month of running himself ragged
researching and seeking an explanation for the odd reality fluxes
that had inexplicably begun plaguing the world five weeks earlier,
he was glad to finally be home again - provided, of course, this
house was actually his home. But he'd been kept so busy over the
last month, he had neither seen nor even had much time to think
about his family.
But now, he was paying for spending that long, long month away from
them.
John was no longer totally certain he knew exactly where he lived.
As he knocked on the door of the house again, he had every hope that
his wife would open it and welcome him home again with open arms.
A woman, who looked vaguely familiar, although he didn't quite
recognize her, answered the door.
"Is this my house?" asked John.
The woman looked at him suspiciously. "No, this isn't your house,"
she replied curtly. "However, to be fair, my memory is not nearly
as good as it used to be before all these reality fluxes began
occurring. And yet, I still can never recall having seen you around
the neighborhood before. But you might want to try next door. I
haven't seen her husband hanging around for quite a while. It's
quite possible you could be him."
"That well could be," replied John sounding relieved. "Thank you
for all your assistance. I'll check next door with your neighbor
immediately."
As he walked across the lawn towards the neighbor's door, John
decided he'd make certain to never again commit himself to working
such long and arduous hours in the future. Although he assumed he
hadn't been adversely affected in any way that truly mattered, the
compounded effects from all the reality fluxes coupled with his
being away for the past month were still very aggravating. It was
frightening being unable to recall where his house was located. And
even if he eventually found his home, he was afraid of being unable
to positively identify his wife and children; that is, if he actually
had the wife and children that he thought he did.
And yet, he was almost positive he had a wife.
And, as for having children, he was definitely almost positive that
he might conceivably be a father.
John knocked on the neighbor's door.
A brawny man answered the door. "What do you want?"
"Your neighbor told me your husband might be missing," explained John.
"By any chance, might I be he, ma'am?"
The man glared at him. "Ma'am?" he answered with a sneer. "I ain't
no ma'am, buddy."
"Then I'm quite sorry I have disturbed you, ma'am," replied John.
"But could you..."
"I ought to break your stupid-looking face," snarled the man angrily.
"You must be some damn sicko pervert!" he exclaimed, just before
slamming the door shut in John's face.
"But wait," pleaded John. "You haven't answered my question yet.
Are you or aren't you my wife?" John rapped on the door again, but
the man refused to answer it. Although John wondered why the man
had responded so strangely to his simple straightforward question,
he assumed the man inside would refuse to re-open the door as long
he thought John was there.
Not needing an entire house to fall on his head, John finally decided
that someone as totally rude and obnoxious as that man obviously had
been couldn't possibly be his wife. He would never believe he could
have possibly married someone as nasty as him. And besides, he was
almost certain his wife didn't have such a large beer belly.
On the other hand, maybe he'd just misunderstood the woman he'd
talked to first. It was quite possible; she could have meant her
other next door neighbor instead of that rude nasty man he'd
encountered. Encouraged that he might be almost home, John made
his way quickly to the other neighbor's door. Once he arrived,
he knocked sharply on the door.
An attractive young woman answered.
"Your next door neighbor has informed me that your husband has been
missing for a while," said John, as he openly admired the young
woman's shapely figure. "I was wondering, if by some small chance,
I might be your husband."
Having noticed his apparent interest in her, the young woman looked
him over very carefully. "I suppose you could be him," she replied
with a smile. "But it has been nearly a month, maybe a little more,
since the last time I saw him. And many of my memories have become
somewhat muddled and disjoint of late due mainly to all these odd
fluxes in reality continually re-occurring. But yet, you do look
somewhat familiar to me."
John smiled back at her. "So do you."
"Do you have any children?" inquired the woman.
"Two," replied John. "That is, I believe my wife and I have two
children."
At the moment she heard 'two', the woman's smile widened. "That's
excellent news," she replied. "I think I can nearly recall my husband
and me also having two children."
John felt relieved by her statement. "Then I must certainly be your
husband. And this must be our house."
"That would be really nice, I think." The woman betrayed her thoughts
and blushed brightly. "You really are kind of pleasant to look at and
all, and I can't help thinking I'd be very happy being your wife. But
I really must be absolutely certain, more or less, that you are
actually my missing husband before I let you enter. I wouldn't want
the neighbors to think I was some kind of bimbo."
"How can you be certain?"
"You'll need to pass a test of some kind, of course."
"But what kind of test?"
"I don't really know. I hadn't given it much thought before a moment
ago," replied the woman. "Wait! I know the perfect test. "What are
the ages of your two children?"
"We have a problem. I can't really recall their exact ages offhand,"
said John. "But that's not all that surprising; of late, I haven't
been able to distinguish in my mind between which days I've been at
work and which days I've been wandering around searching for my house
and family. Just how am I supposed to remember their ages?"
The woman, having thought her question an excellent test, frowned.
"Then tell me their names. Surely, you can remember their names."
"Their names?" asked John sheepishly. "That is another damned
difficult question for me to answer right now." John scratched his
head in contemplation. "I'm almost positive I might have known them
an hour ago, but, right now, I can't exactly recall our daughter's
name, although I'm almost certain it might have started with a 'C'.
And I'm definitely almost halfway positive that we must have named
our boy after my father, or it could have been your father, whatever
the hell his name was at the time."
"You have a son?" she asked, the sound of great disappointment
inexplicably flooding her voice.
"I believe so. But it is difficult to remember everything clearly
with reality rearranging itself around us from time to time. But I
do almost kind of recall possibly taking him to a ball game maybe
once or twice in the last year or two. Is there some problem I
should know about with our son?"
A tear rolled down the young woman's cheek. "I can't remember ever
giving birth to a boy," she sobbed. The sound of disappointment in
her voice had grown. "At this very moment, I can only remember being
the mother of two girls. If you can recall having a son, then you
can't be my husband."
"But I believe it may still be possible for me to be your husband,"
replied John. He was beginning to think that staying here with her,
whether or not he really was her husband, might be considerably better
than his continued search for someone he wasn't totally certain
existed any longer. "Maybe I made a mistake," suggested John. "I
might actually have fathered two girls. Or - just as likely - maybe
you gave birth to a boy, who was trapped outside when one of the more
nasty reality fluxes struck. My research has indicated that he could
easily have been transformed into a girl, as well as a variety of
other things, without either of you being any the wiser."
"Do you really think that's possible?" asked the woman, once again
sounding hopeful.
Either event I've mentioned is equally possible, given our current
circumstances," said John. "As likely as not, I could be the father
of two girls; it has been so long since I last saw them that I don't
really remember clearly. And I've heard plenty of tales of people
caught outside during a reality flux being physically transformed.
Haven't you?"
"But you still aren't sure, you're my husband?" asked the woman.
"Are you?"
"No. Not really."
"Unless you're absolutely certain who you are," replied the woman,
"then there is no way I can be completely certain that you're my
husband either." The woman looked at John with growing sadness in
her eyes. "Perhaps you should check with the people next door. The
couple living there also has two kids - a boy and a girl. However, I
haven't heard anything about her husband being missing, although you
could be actually him and live next door to me."
"I'm really sorry you're not my wife." John smiled at the young
woman. "I think we could have been, although maybe we always were,
the perfect couple."
"So do I," she smiled back warmly. "But maybe, if you discover you
don't actually live next door, you can come back here and visit with
me for a while. I've been very lonely while my husband's been
missing, and I'd really enjoy having a little male companionship for
quite a while." Suddenly filled with new and hopeful expectations,
her smile curled into a mischievous grin, as she closed the door.
John hurriedly went next door. As he knocked on the door, he hoped
no one would answer. That would mean being able to hurry back to the
attractive young woman he'd just left.
But he was soon disappointed; a lanky man of nearly his own age
answered the door. For several moments, he stared oddly at John.
"Excuse me. Would you know if this is my house?" asked John.
"No, it isn't," replied the man. "And before you ask me, I've never
seen you before."
That's odd, thought John. "Assuming that to be the case for the
moment, then I don't suppose you might actually be my wife?"
"Do I look like I might be your wife?" he replied with his gravelly
voice.
"Not exactly," replied John. "At least, you don't as far as I can
recall. But I don't actually remember my wife having such a fine
handlebar mustache or a full beard like yours. But on the other
hand, I'm not altogether certain whether or not she could have grown
either one of them as well as you have."
"Just as I told you; I'm not your wife."
"However, I still can't completely rule you out from being my wife,"
replied John smugly. "Just because you've grown a beard and a mustache
and apparently suffer from an abnormally high hormonal imbalance of
testosterone, which does limit the possibilities somewhat, it doesn't
disqualify you automatically from further consideration. Strange
things have been happening during these reality fluxes."
"That's certainly true," replied the man. "I've seen some mighty
peculiar things myself. Just the other day, I was watching my two
children as they were out in the yard. When a reality flux struck
unexpectedly, my teenage son blossomed into my teenage daughter,
while my tomboy younger daughter became her new sister's younger
brother. I was certainly glad my wife wasn't here at the time;
those kinds of things usually freak her out something awful. But
when she returned later that day, she, just like both kids, didn't
even notice they'd even been changed."
"You remember your wife?"
"I certainly do, right down to that little mole on her ... but that's
not important now." But just thinking of his wife's cute little mole
on her even cuter little ass always made him smile. "I don't know
why or how it happens, but I always remember things perfectly after
a reality flux. For some reason, they never seem to affect me.
Regardless of whatever happens to anyone else, I always remain me -
Jack Dawson."
"And you said you also remember your two children?"
"Yup," replied the man, "I remember them perfectly too."
"Then I guess you couldn't possibly be my wife after all," said John.
"If you were my wife, then obviously you'd remember being her. But
how fortunate it must be for you to be capable of remembering every
member of your family so clearly. Do you think it would be possible
for me to meet your lucky wife?"
"Unfortunately, no," sighed Jack. "She's not home at the moment.
She went to the store several hours ago. At the time, she said
she'd only be gone for few minutes, but I haven't seen her since."
"Have you called the police?"
"Of course, about fifteen minutes ago. But, as she hasn't been
missing long enough, they said there wasn't much they could do for
me yet. They did tell me they'd keep an eye out for someone of the
description I gave them during their patrols. However, they also
gave me some really bad news; they informed me that there had been
a cluster of four reality fluxes affecting this area in the three
hours since she'd left home. And they're expecting more of them."
"That's definitely not good news, Jack," agreed John. "It might mean
that your wife could very possibly be almost anyone by now."
"That's what the police told me. However, they also wanted to know
if she might have stopped and visited some friend on her way to or
from the store. That would have placed inside some structure; I'm
sure you must have heard how being inside man-made structures tends
to cancel out nearly all of the major effects caused by a flux."
"I've heard that," replied John. "I've also determined it's the best
reason to explain why I have not been affected very much. For the
past month, I've been mostly inside my office working my butt off to
find some logical explanation for the existence of these fluxes."
The man inexplicably breathed a large sigh of relief. "From what
you've just said, I'd guess it's also a safe assumption that you
couldn't possibly be my wife either. She never seems very busy;
she's always sitting around the house, either working crossword
puzzles or watching soap operas. But me and the kids still miss
her." The man shook his head. "But to tell you the truth - and
never tell her this if you ever meet her - I've been kind of hoping
that my suspicions about her screwing the guy next door are true.
At least, she would have been inside his house and not likely to be
affected by the fluxes."
"But your neighbor's not a man; she's a woman. She said her husband
disappeared four or five weeks ago," said a puzzled John. "She's
also kind of attractive, but she also seems awfully lonely and more
than just a little horny. Although she didn't know your wife was
missing, she thought you might actually be my wife and sent me over
here to find out one way or the other. But, to tell you the truth,
I think she's expecting me to come back for a little overnight rest
and relaxation with her, if you know what I mean, once I discover
for myself you aren't my wife.
Jack suddenly began laughing hysterically. "So that wife stealing
bastard Dick Barton is now one horny broad. It serves him right.
Next time, maybe he'll think twice before trying to steal somebody
else's wife. His own wife finally got fed up of his cheating and
lying ways and left him about a month ago. I've been wondering what
happened to him. But you'd better hurry back over there before the
next reality flux strikes. Otherwise, you won't get to fuck that
bitch silly; it would serve him right if you were to knock her up
while he's female. I've heard a few stories recently that pregnancy
tends to mitigate the more drastic effects caused by a flux."
"I hadn't heard that before," replied John. "But, given your
problems, I'm sorry to have bothered you with mine."
"Don't worry about it. You were no bother at all. Just make certain
that when you finish up with the bitch next door that you tell her
'Jack hopes you had a really good time', although I'd imagine that
won't mean diddly squat to her right now."
As Jack starting closing his door, John turned to leave. But before
Jack could completely shut his the door, John doubled over and
collapsed on the porch, as he clutched at his head in pain.
But fortunately for those concerned, reality fluxes never lasted very
long.
As her pain began to lessen, Joan slowly stood up. Quickly examining
herself for any noticeable changes that the flux might have caused,
she breathed a heavy sigh of relief, as she discovered she was
completely unchanged from the woman she'd been moments before. She
considered herself extremely fortunate. Caught outside and fully
exposed to the flux energies as she had been, generally resulted in
suffering severe physical changes with potential major blows to her
sense of self. While at the store, she'd seen that horrifying
headline concerning strange effects caused by reality fluxes in that
trashy tabloid while she was waiting in the checkout line. From that
moment on, she'd constantly worried about being caught in a flux,
which would transform her into some flat-chested adolescent or - worse
still - a boy. But her firm and full, totally unaltered, breasts had
been the first places she'd checked as she'd recovered.
Joan heard another voice behind her. "You're finally home. Where
have you been? Don't you know it isn't safe to be outside right now?"
She wondered if that voice was truly the one who she thought, and
hoped, it would be.
As she expectantly turned to face the source of the familiar sounding
voice, two children rushed towards Joan.
"Mommy, you're home again!" screamed the younger boy excitedly. He
hugged her tightly, as if to never allow her to escape from his grasp
again.
The older of the two, a teenage girl - her daughter, she sudden
recalled - abruptly asked, "But to where has father disappeared,
mother?"
"Isn't he here with you?" she asked with mounting concern. "I told
him I'd only be gone a few minutes." She shook her head for a moment,
before noticing someone else was standing in her living room - someone
she didn't immediately recognize. "Who are you?" Joan asked the
stranger. "Although you look very familiar, you don't look a thing
like my husband - at least, I don't think you look like him - even
though you do appear to be about the same age as him and me," she said
nervously."
"But it's me," replied the stranger. "Don't you recognize me?"
"Not really. But as I said, you do seem very familiar."
"You were outside. You must have been affected by the reality flux."
"Are you certain? I don't feel any different. And as far as I can
tell nothing about me has changed."
"I'm positive you were caught outside. I helped you into the house."
Joan looked puzzled. "Who are you?" she asked again.
"I'm Jill. Don't you remember?" Jill brushed her long hair out
from in front of her face. "I always watch your kids when you're
out, Mrs. Burroughs."
"That must be why you look so familiar," said Joan. "Do you think
you could possibly be my husband?" she asked cautiously. "Although
I don't believe any of them, I've read stories in the tabloids about
men becoming women and women becoming men as a result of being caught
in the fluxing energies."
"You should believe them, Mrs. Burroughs. They're all true, I know,"
replied Jill. "But I'm not your husband - I'm just Jill," she
chuckled briefly. "I rent one of your spare rooms, and you have me
watch your son as a partial payment of my rent. One of the reasons
you let me watch him is because, for some strange reason - why I don't
really know - I always remember everything that happens during these
fluxes in reality. Not only that, but they never seem to affect me
either; whatever happens to anyone else, I'll always be me - Jill
Dawson."
"I'll bet he's with Debbie Barton right now," fumed Joan. "That horny
little bitch next store has always had her greedy little eyes on him.
But then, she'll nearly always settle for anything coming to her door
wearing pants that cover a penis."
"Maybe you should lay down and rest for a little bit, Mrs. Burroughs.
You look like you've had a long hard day."
"That sounds like an excellent idea to me, Jill," replied Joan. "It
is Jill, isn't it? I think that's what you told me." Joan suddenly
yawned. "I don't know why I'm so tired. I can't understand why a
simple trip to the store can be so exhausting. But I think I will
go rest for a while, Jill. But don't forget to come wake me as soon
as my errant husband finally comes home. He has a lot of explaining
to do about where he disappeared while I was at the store."
Just then, the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it, Jill."
As Joan opened the door, she was surprised to find a young man
standing on her porch. "Can I help you?" she asked, while wondering
why the young man looked so familiar.
"I certainly hope so," replied the young, as he thoroughly checked
Joan out. "Can you tell me if I live here?" he asked. "And are you
my wife?
THE END
Cheryl
- 29.12.2021
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