Forfeits
- 2 years ago
- 52
- 0
It's A _____'s World free porn video
It's a _____'s World
By Bob Stein
"Peggy!" Leaning back in the recliner, Scott looked towards the kitchen and
increased the volume. "PEGGY!" After a minute, his weary-looking wife stuck her
head around the corner.
"I'm trying to clean the bathroom. What is it this time?"
He lifted up an empty beer can and crushed it in his hand. "Gone dry again,
honey. How about bringin' me another brewski? The Cowboys are at third down, and
I don't want to miss the play!" Scott could almost see her counting to ten.
Maybe he'd miscalculated. He could usually figure just how much she'd put up
with before blowing up. Oh, yeah. If she was cleaning the bathroom, she'd seen
the evidence of bad aim on the floor. Probably should have wiped that up.
"Weren't you supposed to go to the gym today?" Peggy raised an eyebrow, as she
looked him over.
Feeling a little self-conscious, Scott pulled his T-shirt back down over the
bulge of his stomach. "I didn't feel like it today. Geez! I work all week! Is it
too much to ask to spend a little time relaxing? Besides, you always said you
like a man with meat on his bones."
"Meat, yes. Lard, no."
Scott bristled, sitting up in the recliner fast enough to make it slam. "You
saying I'm fat?"
"No." Peggy paused a minute. "But you've sure let yourself go. Just a few years
ago, you were really trim. And you used to at least wear clean clothes around
the house. Honestly! You look like a bum! If I'd let myself go like that, you'd
be screaming."
"But you're a woman, honey. It's different..." His voice trailed off as he
realized too late that he'd stuck his foot in it again.
"Different? DIFFERENT?!" Peggy clenched her fists and stalked into the room. "I
keep the house clean, do the shopping, pay the bills, do the yard work, and even
do most of the damned repairs around the house. On top of that, I manage to
bathe regularly, wear decent clothes, and keep myself looking presentable even
on weekends. What's different is that you sit on your ass in an office all day,
and then expect me to bring cold beer to a slob who won't even bother to shave."
Scott was so mad he actually got out of the chair. "It's my 'ass-sitting' that
pays for the beer, your clothes, and this whole damned house! Maybe you should
remember that! I wish you knew how hard it was being the man of the family.
Maybe then you'd stop giving me so much shit!"
"Yeah?" Peggy glared back at him. "Well, I wish you'd find out what I go through
trying to keep this household together. Maybe you'd stop making me deal with
your piss!"
Scott felt dizzy for a moment, and grabbed at the wall for support.
"Are you OK, honey?" Peggy sounded concerned. He nodded, eyes still closed. She
patted his arm. "Good. Look, let's stop arguing. I promise I'll be more careful
in the bathroom. That is, if you go get me another cold beer."
Huh? Scott opened his eyes in time to see Peggy flop down into his recliner. At
least, the woman looked sorta like Peggy. Except that his wife was a good thirty
pounds lighter, and wouldn't be caught dead in the dirty T-shirt and jeans this
person was wearing. Her hair was a tangled mess, and it was obvious she wasn't
wearing any makeup. The gross version of Peggy leered at him. "Go on, honey.
Before I come over there and pinch that tight little ass of yours."
Flustered, Scott backed away and nodded. "Ju-just a minute." God! He was having
some sort of bad dream. Pinching his arm hurt. OK, it was a hallucination. Too
much beer. Coffee. He needed black coffee. Heading for the kitchen, Scott caught
his reflection in the dining room mirror and froze. What the Hell? His clothes
had changed! What was he doing wearing a sports shirt and dress slacks on a
weekend? And he looked a lot younger. Moving closer, he ran a hand over clean-
shaven cheeks. There was some sort of makeup all over his face. And his hair was
actually styled, like one of those movie stars.
A scattering of gray roots suggested he wasn't really younger. He was really
trim, though, like he'd been in his twenties. The makeup seemed to smooth out
his skin, coving some of the fine wrinkles. As if he ever cared about that!
"SCOTT! Where tha' Hell is my beer?" The dumpy Peggy bellowed from the den.
"Come on, man! The game is starting!"
A little dazed, Scott went into the kitchen and pulled a cold brew from the
refrigerator, absently wiping the top off with a clean dishcloth. Then he took
it into the den and handed it to his wife. She grunted acknowledgement, but
Scott was more interested in the game. Something had changed there as well. He
squinted and looked at the teams closely. The players had odd-looking pads on
the fronts of their uniforms. Almost as if... There was a close up of the
Cowboy's quarterback. A woman built like a Mack truck.
"Scott?" He blinked at Peggy's voice. "As cute as your ass is, it makes a better
door than a window. Move over so I can see the game!"
Feeling a bit dizzy, Scott retreated from the den and made his way to the
kitchen table. Plopping down in a chair, he took some deep breaths. Calm down.
Think this through. He looked around. Everything in here seemed the same. Pots
hanging from the rack, dishtowels neatly folded. Peggy's copy of Woman's Home
Journal by the phone. Wait a minute. The magazine was open to a picture of a
prim-looking older man in an apron. He flipped through the pages. "How to make
your woman happy." "Do Men Belong in the Workplace?" The cover was just as
strange, showing a smiling young man with his arms around a scruffy-looking
little girl and a boy who was dressed for church.
No! This was all some sort of awful trick. He got up and ran for the garage.
Again, everything seemed normal. Moving over to his battered toolbox, he reached
up underneath the bottom drawer and pulled out a magazine Peggy wouldn't know
about. Except that now it was called 'Playgirl,' and had a very well-endowed and
very naked young man on the cover. He gaped at the picture, and then flipped
through the pages. All of the men were mostly naked. Any women shown had
everything of importance covered. Even the advertisements were eye-popping.
Scantily clad men advertised everything from golf clubs for women to hot sports
cars.
"Hey, Scott!" A familiar voice startled him from behind. "Your Peggy keep that
trash around, too?"
He turned, expecting to see his neighbor, David. OK. It still was David. But
like him, the man was a lot trimmer and carefully groomed. And he'd never seen
the man in a pressed shirt before! "What's going on, David? Is this some sick
joke?"
His friend looked puzzled, and then grinned. "Oh, you mean the magazine? Isn't
that just disgusting? I mean, really! They can have a man naked any time they
want. You know, they showed that scene from 'Titanic' on TV again last night.
The one where Kate Capshaw draws that DiCaprio boy? Do you think they ever show
a breast on TV?" He giggled. "You should have seen the boys when Capshaw came
on. They screamed and kissed the TV screen. Remember when we used to do that for
Jamie Lee Curtis?"
Scott backed away from the man, eyes wide and heart pounding. This was going too
far! Spinning suddenly, he ran back into the house, leaving a startled David
behind. What had happened? How had he gotten stuck in this world of beer-
swilling women and pin-up boys? He thought frantically. Things had changed after
he felt dizzy. What had happened before that? Something he and Peggy had been
fighting about. Playing back the scene in his mind, he finally made the
connection. Wishes! They had both wished the other knew what life was like on
the other side.
It seemed too fantastic to be true, but he couldn't think of any other
explanation. Closing his eyes tightly, he wished to be back to normal. When he
looked, he was still in the pressed sports shirt. He tried again. No change.
Maybe they both had to wish at the same time. But how could he get this slob
Peggy to wish for them to switch back? She didn't seem to find anything wrong.
He edged back into the den. She was still glued to the game, slamming her fist
on the recliner's arm and shouting at one of the players. Scott waited until a
commercial came on, and then cleared his throat nervously. "Uh, Peggy? Remember
our little argument?"
Peggy gave him a blank look. "Huh? Oh, that. Don't worry about it, honey. I
figured you were just a little cranky."
He bit back a sharp retort. No point in antagonizing the lout. "You know, I
really wish things were back to normal around here. Don't you?"
His wife grinned suddenly. "Why yes, Scott. I wish that this was all perfectly
normal."
Dizziness again. Scott grabbed at the wall and looked around. Peggy was still in
her chair, looking at him expectantly. A quick check confirmed that he was still
in his ironed clothes. Breathing a sigh of relief, he smiled at his wife.
"Thanks, dear. I'll have dinner ready whenever your game is over." Happy to have
his world back in order, Scott flounced cheerfully into the kitchen to start
supper.
Peggy watched her husband leave, and then settled back into the recliner. Pretty
clever, that man. Of course, he didn't know Peggy had been just as confused by
the switch. The difference was that she automatically knew what to do and say.
Probably because of the way they had worded the wishes. And even though she was
repulsed by the overweight body and lack of personal hygiene she had in this
world, it wouldn't be hard to lose weight. Maybe a trip to the gym later.
If she felt like it.
END
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