Soul Mates 5: Wearing A T-Shirt, Then A Push-up Bra free porn video

Soul Mates 5: Wearing a T-Shirt, Then a Push-up Bra By Ron Dow75 Taylor Estes was being swept down the river by the flood current! It was all he could do to keep his head above the surge. He lost the fight. He felt the warmth of hypothermia overtaking him. He found his way to the surface. The worst of the storm was over; instead of the wave, there were now swells. They were all about him; two rose and slowly fell by his ears; two were over his chest. A small one was over his... he watched it flatten out. It sank, becoming a small eddy. The swells over his chest were not going away. He had a hard time keeping his head above the whitecaps breaking around his upper body. He looked around, desperate to find land. He saw a mermaid sitting on a rock, the only thing solid in sight. This brunette "Ariel" was holding out her hand, calling to him. He flipped over, and swam away. A wave hit his face. He was under water; the crests reached down. They were like streams of a colder color than the warmer water he was engulfed in. He swam. Two large bubbles had bumped up against his chest, and would not leave them. They did not act like Mae Wests. Which way to the surface? He didn't know which way was up. With all of his desperate might he stroked and kicked with his arms and legs. The bubbles on his chest and butt remained, deforming and bowing as his futile attempt to save himself dragged them with him. He was running out of what air remained in his lungs. He was loosing the energy to swim, to fight, to save his life. Sinuously, the mermaid paddled up close to him. Limp, his vision blurring, she came up to him. Her lips parted. He opened his mouth. The bubbles of the last of his air escaped. She kissed him. When his vision cleared, Taylor saw the dark current around his face. There was the white line where the surf broke along his upper chest. But it was frozen, as if time had stopped. But it wasn't; the swells over his chest moved up and down. But they remained mounds. He looked between them, and the far swell at something wood. A boat? Beyond the mist the sky was overcast. Even so, he saw yellow stars. ...And little pink hearts. There was a mast. It had a crow's nest like a lampshade; and coats hanging from the mast itself. There was a rank and file of squares. A girl smiled out from within each. And over each of her heads read: "Girl Whirl". Taylor Estes opened his mouth, drew in air, and renewed his effort to get away. The dark current was long hair. The boat was the footboard. The water was a blue blanket; the white of the surf was the edge of the top sheet. He kicked the covers completely off he-r body. Under he-r long, disheveled hair, Taylor slammed he-r fist down, lifting he-r upper body up off of the bottom sheet: "I hate bubbles," s-he said through clenched teeth. 'Bubbles?' The outside voice sounded like the one s-he heard in he-r inner ear, only the far less resonant than the one s-he heard in he-r head. Taylor-Nicole looked down the opening of the frilled lace 'slip' (pink with white) s-he was in. S-He saw within a lot of freed and dangling cleavage. He-r 'own'. Forcing he-r frown to unknit: "I hate hips, more," s-he said, moving them as s-he got out of the canopy bed. He had on a matching pair of frilly, lacy cotton 'panties'. 'As my grandma says, "Welcome to womanhood".' "At least you knew it was going to happen to you." Taylor-Nicole put out a leg, and touched the floor. (Long hair liked to get noticed.) Having smooth, bare skin didn't feel very sensuous in a house where the furnace had not taken the morning chill off, yet. Goosebumps: Honk! Honk! S-He asked, "What was that?" 'I didn't hear anything,' Nicole Getty said. S-He saw (beyond a lock of hair), near the foot of the bed the purple bathrobe had been kicked almost entirely onto the floor. Taylor-Nicole reached for it, feeling a young woman's body that wanted to be stretched. "How did I get in this body?" The ghost-like astral form of Nicole was sitting in a lotus position on the bench built into the dormer near the bed. It looked uncomfortable to Taylor-Nicole, who refused to stretch. Nicole wore a dress long enough to cover her knees in that position. The dim color looked to be blue in the morning light. 'You don't remember how you saved me but were drowned yourself?' "I meant last night! I didn't go to bed as you," Taylor-Nicole told her, putting her velveteen robe on he-r body. "Did I?" 'You forgot?' stopping before her cleavage, Nicole's v-neck had white lapels that swooped out almost like epaulets. A white scarf went under them around her neck. "I, to use the term loosely, just woke up. It's a wonder that I remember how to talk. Politely, at that." 'Then we're going to have to see to it that you wake up me. I usually have no problem getting up, happy and ready.' "I hate morning people," Taylor-Nicole grumbled, putting he-r feelings into tying the robe. (S-He tried to ignore the hair.) 'With my physiology, it's all a matter of psychology, now.' "But it's my psychology: I don't want your physiology telling me what...." Taylor-Nicole stopped. "I can't believe I said "psychology" and "physiology" this early." S-He dropped he-r hands from the knotted belt, and dropped he-r buns onto the bed. Every sudden movement reminded he-r s-he had masses between he-r chest and skin (not to mention what the rubbing against material did to he-r too large nipples). But worst of all were the hips, pelvis included. That's when s-he became convinced s-he couldn't sit on it. S-He got up, and hurried to the bedroom door. +++ When Taylor-Nicole (he-r hair pushed back behind the shoulders) came back in, s-he had found more of his, Taylor's, normal morning mood: "Well, that was real. You couldn't have spared me that?!" (What'd remained of his manhood hadn't even gotten in the way; it'd been 'his-her' girlhood that had.) "If you had a choice, would you let someone else do it for you?" "I do have a choice; and I'm going to remember what you said. I'd just like to know how I got stuck doing it, this time," s-he said on he-r way to crawl back into bed. 'Last night,' Nicole said, taking her feet out from under her legs, 'I heard you screaming.' She sat up (and her back very straight), her feet now on the floor, 'What should I find when I opened my own bedroom door?' "I don't remember," was Taylor-Nicole's continued defense. 'A boy stripped naked,' Nicole leaned forward, and made the motions, 'jabbing at the pajamas I'd found for him with a ten- foot pole.' They were still across the room under the desk. The slant of he-r sculpted eyebrows increased with Taylor- Nicole's uncomfort level. "Where would I get a ten-foot pole?" S- He plopped down onto the bed (damned boobs!). S-He didn't want to look at those all too female legs. 'I don't know; but you had one. You screamed again, and hid under the bed.' "I did not hide "under" the bed," Taylor-Nicole said, finding his-Taylor's injured dignity. S-He let the body do what it was already conditioned to do, sit up properly; s-he added lifting he-r chests. "I hid through the bed." 'On your knees.' "How else is a ghost going to hide through a bed?" s-he asked. Ghost Nicole stood up, 'You're much more modest than I thought guys were.' She had that average-teen-next-door-who-could-pass- as-a-model look that Taylor-Nicole had loved until he had the look, too. Taylor-Nicole was offended at this slight on his manhood, "I'm self-conscious. Who has more of a right to be? Look: I'm sitting in a totally unnatural way. I should be slouching over!" And s-he demonstrated. (Now the boobs leaned into the material in front, not on the body in back.) S-he had to consciously separate he-r legs. 'Wow, that's why it happens,' Nicole said, staring as more of ghost Taylor-Nicole appeared. "What!?" Taylor-Nicole asked, as the body snapped back straight, he-r knees nearly together. Most of Taylor-Nicole's astral form disappeared within Nicole's physical form. The bedroom door opened: "Come on: Time to get up!" Nicole's mother, Margot said. The brown haired woman with the large glasses was dressed in a white blouse (and an apple-with-worm brooch; with a little lace around the turned-out collar and short sleeve edges, tartan skirt, hose and slippers. Her only ring, at the moment, was on the left middle. There was a definite resemblance to Nicole, only she was not as thin, and was a couple of inches shorter. "I'm not Nicole," Taylor-Nicole told her. The woman with the short, styled hair came into the room, "I know that. Nicole told me you were going to be her, today." Astral Taylor was back to being out of sync with Nicole's body: "She did!?!" S-He looked accusingly at what to Margot was empty space. Ghost Nicole's perfect lips smiled back, 'It really makes being a ghost easier, when you can turn other people into ghosts. 'You should try turning people into ghosts sometime.' "And let anybody know where I am!?!" s-he cried, almost rising out of the he-r body. Nicole's body was dragged up after Taylor's ghost. It caught up with him-her, and again s-he felt things move that had never moved before yesterday. Taylor-Nicole decided Nicole's mouth was a little on the wide side, which made her lips thinner, relatively-speaking. (And since she wasn't a perfect girl, that meant- "Clap, clap!" Nicole's mom was beside Taylor-Nicole, now. "No dawdling. You have to get dressed, and eat breakfast. You mustn't be late for school." Taylor-Nicole crossed he-r arms over he-r chest (and stubbornly left them there), "I'm not going to do any of that. ...Except, uh, dawdle. I think." The perfumed adult was tempted to respond, but, instead, deferred to the air. Still smiling, Nicole leaned forward, 'I wonder if your friends will like to being ghosts.' "I'd rather they see me naked, than in..." Taylor-Nicole thought about what he was about to say. S-He uncrossed he-r arms, "I don't want them to see me as a naked girl, either!" (Nicole's mom knew the idea of naked was bound to come up.) Nicole asked, 'Is it alright if they see you as a naked guy?' "At least I'd..." That idea was only less objectionable. 'That's why I got you these things,' she said, nodding towards the ghost guy-clothes carefully laid across the hope chest at the foot of the bed: Boxer shorts and socks on a T-shirt, on a polo shirt, on a pair of jeans. "If you are seen by other ghosts, you'll be wearing something you wouldn't mind, uh, being caught dead in." Nicole wished she could've resisted saying that more. Taylor-Nicole didn't like being reminded. "I'm not wearing anybody's else's stuff: Even another guy's. Having on those PJ's last night was unbelievably gross!" Nicole stepped forward to assure him, 'It was all in your imagination.' Taylor-Nicole rushed her (the hair flowed), he-r hands outstretched. Nicole rolled sideways, her long white scarf streaming; Nicole's mom grabbed Taylor-Nicole's arm. Being a ghost, Nicole calculated, she didn't have to worry about getting hurt (or what she looked like tumbling in a dress). She was to find out as she fell toward her vanity. Taylor-Nicole told the woman keeping he-r back, "If I can get out of this body, I can go home, and get my own clothes!" Getting resistance, Nicole's mom acted like a mother, "There is no time for side trips. You can do that after school." "I'm not going to school -Probably forever! I'm dead!" s-he declared in a very teen, if understandably, melodramatic manner. "But you are not sick. That is the only excuse in this house for not going to school." Taylor-Nicole half-turned on her (he-r long hair wanted to get in the way, again), "Oh!? It's okay for Nicole not to go to school!" Margot Getty finally employed some of her women's self-defense training to leverage the boy in her daughter's body (shudder) moving back towards the closet. "She's going to school, too!" Nicole rose up from among her perfumes, cleanser, and other items on her vanity, 'Someone has to teach you how to be me.' "But-" Nicole's mom told the presence, "And you're to see that she does go to school." She reached past her daughter's body and slid the closet door open. Ghost Nicole said, 'I said I was going to go.' There were closet organizers inside, with clear plastic bins neatly arranged in every open space, some of them that looked like they could be pulled out like drawers. They contained all sorts of things; most of them obviously meant for girls, not boys. That thought dominated Taylor-Nicole's mind as s-he focused on what were hung from the hangers. The woman with the round glasses said, "Now, we don't want you to feel too uncomfortable on your first day (you do need to have your mind on your role). We'll start you out in-" "Wait!!" Taylor-Nicole cried, turning to break away. Girl flesh and bone bumped up against woman flesh and bone. "Please, don't make this any more difficult," Nicole's mom held on. "This is my daughter." "I'm going to put on the cloths Nicole got me!" Taylor-Nicole made known. "I'm not putting on anything, until I put on some shorts and pants, and guy clothes, first!" The blue-eyed woman looked into the face of her daughter. The more she looked, the more she saw the differences between Nicole and what this presence did to change the tensions of her features, the way her parts were held, even the color of her skin. She saw in those brown eyes a different soul; but one, perhaps, telling the truth. She let that soul take her daughter's body away. "Buddy", as the presence preferred to be called, went to the hope chest. (What had Nicole said his real name was again?) Having stepped through the upholstered bench of her vanity, ghost Nicole now sat (knees together, hem over them) on it, 'Returning to how you got into my body, last, night... I tried to make you more comfortable by changing into my best chemise.' It was the sexiest sleepwear she had, though, she admitted to herself, still on the cute-teeny side. Pink with frilly lace, after all. In that chemise: "Well, it didn't make me feel more comfortable!" Taylor-Nicole said as s-he picked up the boxers. "Watching a girl get naked while you're...." Standing next to her was her mother. Margot saw a blush extend all the way down to her daughter's cleavage. She then saw "Buddy" become a 'mime': Nicole's body stepped into, and pulled up invisible shorts up over her frilly panties. But ghost Nicole had been talking: '...The whole idea of being married is to get used to seeing each other naked. After all, I know you'll be feeling my body; like right now.' Taylor-Nicole fought back a response to this, and let the boxers snap around his-Taylor's ghost hips, not he-r girl-hips. A problem was that at his-Taylor's age (and he wasn't going to get any older dead), his-Taylor's hips were narrower that Nicole's; the ghost boxers were hidden under the stupid panties. Another problem was that unless there was a reason to focus on something, a ghost's senses were as sharp as his or her faded color and blurred outline. The very real feel of frilly panties overwhelmed the satisfaction he could have gotten from wearing boxer shorts. S-He reached for the T-shirt, while he-r 'wife' talked on, '...Just when I had unhooked my bra, you turned your back on me. On your knees, through my bed, it looked for a moment there you were praying.' Nicole's mom asked, "What are you doing, now?" Her daughter's body was now putting an arm through something. He-r arm in the other armhole, Taylor-Nicole told her, sourly, "You're interrupting Nicole." Nicole responded, 'You're just trying to break my train of thought. But, now that I am not bothered very much by empathy, I would like to finish them. I'm enjoying the novelty.' And as Taylor-Nicole continued to pull on the T-shirt over her chemise, she continued, 'Where was I? Oh, yes: I said you could look at me, but you said you needed to recover.' Taylor's astral body had the same size chest as Nicole's real body. And since his-Taylor's 36 was above hers... 'Was that the same kind of "recovery" as Mom said you meant? She said guys can have problems doing It.' -The astral chest faded from view as he felt less of a man. Most prominent, now, were the breasts that disappeared into the chemise. "Is something wrong?" Nicole's mom asked, stepping forward, a hand up, ready to help. S-He spoke low, but forcefully, "Yes: What are you doing talking to her about things like that?" Ghost Taylor was making his- Taylor's ghost-self be out of sync with the girl-body. Her manicured hand lowered, "About what? If you mean the facts of life, I believe in a free and open exchange of information." "What kind of mother are you!?" There was a "dragging" feeling in the real body. Nicole rose up, her dress fell back into place, asking, 'What? That's something only a father and son can do?' "My dad would never talk about sex!" More "drag". That would be how s-he would know when he, Taylor, was not giving into her, a girl's, physiology. "Oh!" Margot nodded her head. "I see that we're going to have to include you in our discussions." ""Discussions"?!" Nicole said, 'She means girl talk.' Nicole then squealed as s-he came after her. Her long scarf looked like wings. She led the chase through the bed; Taylor- Nicole had to scramble over it (and almost on a tress of he-r hair). S-He didn't get very far, as her mother grabbed he-r ankles. Again, s-he slammed he-r fist down, lifting he-r upper body up off of the bottom sheet: "I hate ...bubbles," s-he said through clenched teeth. +++ S-He stood beside the bed. Suffering through it, he/she tried to will his male astral body into greater solidity as s-he let Nicole's mother slip the chemise straps off of he-r shoulders, and tell he-r, "Step." "Gee, Nicole's got good hooters," a little girl's voice said. "Julienne," Margot told her niece (studying "Buddy" for reaction), "go back to bed. It's early for you to be up." "I tried staying in bed," the dark blonde in the zebra-stripe PJ's said, entering. "But I couldn't, because of all the noise." Her aunt (in makeup and dressed) told her, "There wasn't that much noise." (The hardness of "Buddy's" nipples seemed to be from nothing more than the chill. There were goosebumps.) The eight-year-old backed up towards the ottoman across from the hope chest, "Yvonne always makes noise when she gets up and gets ready." "Your sister's up?" "And left." Julienne sat down on the ottoman as soon as she'd bumped the back of her legs against it. Margot'd seen no obvious reaction from "Buddy". But she'd also seen no effort to lift her daughter's legs out of the chemise in a pile around the ankles. She reached to pull down the panties. That's when "Buddy" reacted. "No!" he told her in a no uncertain term. Taylor-Nicole was able to convince he-rself that that Taylor part of he-r didn't have to be embarrassed. Hey! They weren't his-Taylor's. Guys didn't have "hooters". But 'shorts' were another matter: Even guys wore underpants. (He was even afraid that, somehow, the woman would also pull down his ghost boxers.) Besides, s-he had a vision of her putting he-r in something worse than what s-he was wearing. (If she, a mother(!), could "freely and openly" talk about recovery, she would be capable of thongs!) These frilly, lacy underpants, at least, were fairy large (not as large as even the briefs he was used to wearing, but they did seem to cover a lot). Margot got the message. Letting go of the negligee's bottoms, she asked, "Julienne, will you get me one of Nicole's bras?" The unbrushed towhead brightened, "I get to go through her underwear?" Leaning an elbow on the dresser on the other side of the bed, ghost Nicole watched as her cousin hurried over. 'I have to remember to keep an eye on her.' Nicole's mom smiled, "How many times have I almost caught Nicole going through my lingerie drawer?" Nicole said, 'I hope that's just coincidence.' The preteen went straight to the top right dresser drawer, "Yvonne doesn't have anything really interesting. And she gets mad when I try on her bras." She pulled out the most fancy, laciest one. Taylor-Nicole tried not to look. But out of the corner of he-r eye, s-he saw that it was red. Margot was looking at "Buddy" when she said, "Er, Julienne, dear, let's make it white, today." "Okay," the girl said a little disappointed. She put it back in, and did some rummaging. "Wow! A push-up bra!" "No, Julienne, just a normal-" "Wait!" Taylor-Nicole interrupted. "I want that one." The adult said, "No; I don't think you do." For the first time, "Buddy" stopped looking straight ahead, and looked towards the mother (then swept over to Nicole, because it was easier), "Will it keep the them in place? They won't bounce around? Swing about? Do those other moving things they do?" Nicole had stopped leaning, 'They're only called miracle bras. There are some things even prayers won't stop.' Her mom didn't hear this, and said, "They will give you added control. But you might not like having your breasts put up on display." "It'll make you look hot," Julienne said with enthusiasm. Nicole didn't share it; 'I just moved here: I don't have a reputation yet!' The mom said, "You can you try it on. But we do not have that much time to let you test it out." She added a "?" Nicole went over as far as the other side of the bed, 'Mom! What are you thinking!?' Back to staring straight ahead, Taylor-Nicole nodded, determined. "I can take it." The breasts tried to inflate. Only to: pssssss. Nicole was startled. The little girl went through her with the bra, and got up onto and scooted across the bed with it. Nicole convinced herself she didn't see what she just thought she'd seen. The mom asked, "Are you sure about this?" Taylor-Nicole said, "I know I don't want to go around without something holding onto them. I already think bras are uncomfortable." Through her glasses, the mother looked at the "knockers" as she reached for the bra, "I guess I'm relearning what having "new" breasts are like. Again." She, too, had her own set. "What about new breasts?" the preteen leaned forward on the edge of the bed. "That's something I think you should talk with your mom about, Julienne. Speaking of whom, where is she?" (Taylor-Nicole wasn't volunteering to put on the bra.) "She's taking care of Bobby. She and Yvonne had a fight, and woke him up. I think she's forgotten about me." The spicy-smelling adult woman had started putting the armholes up around the arms, "I understand that even a lot of boys try on their mothers' clothes. It's an experimental stage they go through." (S-He remembered he-Taylor had larger arms than these.) It pleased Nicole to say, 'I am like mom! Once she starts a train of thought, she wants to finish it, too.' One arm in, the other being brought in the other armhole, Taylor- Nicole told the mother, "I wouldn't know. My mom ran out on us when I was a kid." Julienne, confused, said, "She came back!" Margot said, "I'm sorry to hear that... Buddy. Your father didn't remarry?" She'd actually paused, not pulling the bra the rest of the way up. Taylor-Nicole finally lowered he-r head, seeing he-r naked breasts as his-Taylor's pecs faded; "Dad said dating was a waste of his time. He's an okay dad, I guess; but I don't think he likes women, much." Nicole said, 'He... doesn't?' The kid cousin said, "I heard your dad liked women, too much. That's why mom said your mom divorced him." Margot pulled the bra up towards the shoulders, "Julienne, this is Buddy, not Nicole. When you see her wearing jewelry that is when she is Nicole." "Oh..." Then, thinking about it, "Then you don't want me to get her some earrings, or a necklace?" Margot said to "Buddy", "You're going to have to move the breasts around, to position them inside the cups." Taylor-Nicole was feeling he-r hips (and thighs) and curved butt (and waist) more. S-He was still looking towards them, no longer focusing. "Show me how." "Show you!?" The woman pulled the ends of the bra together in back. "I'm afraid bras are very personal." "Owoorr," Taylor-Nicole said feeling (besides the still cool material) the squeeze and nip as the bra pushed the boobs up and in and back and down. They weren't even solid, but grainy underneath. Was that a wire under the cups? The mom started hooking Buddy in, "Reach in, and roll each breast around until you feel them, fit." "Fit?" Taylor-Nicole said as he did not hesitate to relieve the feelings from each, separate beauty. S-He shoved he-r fingers- "Gently! That's right... You'll know it when they're in place. But," the woman warned, "this is a push-up. They're not made for comfort." "I see what you mean," Taylor-Nicole said after he'd rolled (fingers touching flesh that felt them touching it) he-r left boob around until s-he felt s-he couldn't get it into an any better position. "They pull. Except along the top and inside." And s-he wasn't too thrilled about that, either. S-He was now working the one on the other side, "It should be called a "push- in". It wants to shove them together." "That's to give you... the breasts, that is, as much cleavage as it can." Taylor-Nicole frowned, "Too much." "There's not too much you can do about that; but try adjusting the straps," the woman said, pulling a bit at the bra, "They are done higher than they need to be." (Nicole's shoulders were broad, for a girl, he guessed.) Taylor-Nicole tried to see her doing it on the left strap, shrinking the loop, and started doing it on the right, "Why did Nicole do it too up high in the first place!?" Nicole defended herself, 'It wasn't too tight. It's just you being a wuss.' The mom smiled for Buddy, "I told you bras were a matter of personal taste. Nicole has pretty much gone through her stage of adjusting to breasts and bras. If you can get through today with a push-up, then it will be that much easier the next time." Taylor-Nicole examined the logic as s-he pulled on the slide, "Get to know the worse, then wearing a regular one won't seem as bad." Nicole said, 'Oh... There was a method to your madness, Mom.' The preteen in the zebra pajamas came out of her concern with, " "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger"!" Taylor-Nicole moved he-r shoulders around, wishing s-he didn't have to try and get used to bras. "That was from a chick flick, wasn't it? How strong do women have to get?" +++ "A push-up?" commented a new voice. That Aunt Irene had, now, entered the bedroom. (The woman in the green facemask had on a yellow turban, and violet peignoir that left her legs visible under the sheer outer fabric.) Where once s-he had been able to tell he-rself it wasn't Taylor that was partially nude in a room full of females, this was one pair of eyes too many. Or perhaps it was the squirming boy she was carrying over her hip. That seemed silly. The kid in the sleepers was only two. He could hardly speak (jabber, yes). But he, too, wasn't a she. And he could see astral bodies, like his-Taylor's. Taylor-Nicole stepped around Nicole's mom, and reached out for a pair of pants. S-He felt the masses in he-r boobs in the push-up shift. The sister that was all ready for the day (even the pantyhose) answered, "I seem to remember a certain sister who spent most of her girlhood without a bra." "And now I'm paying for it," the woman jiggled her son. Nicole's mom said to "Buddy", "See? Wear a bra, and you won't have to wear push-ups." Julienne asked, "Does it really work like that?" Nicole covered her grin with her hand. Irene walked toward the group of three she could see, "Why don't we ask your Aunt Margot? She was buttoned and hooked up tight and snug until the divorce." "At least I've had a divorce." "I'll remind you I married Bobby's father!" (Taylor-Nicole didn't like the way the baby was looking at the boobs.) While the two women were going at each other, Taylor-Nicole was stepping into a pair of slacks. They were blue enough for he-r to at first think they were jeans. Thinking of how quickly s-he wanted to get dressed (and what wearing one of Nicole's tight jeans had been like), he settled on these. Despite their four glitter lines on each leg. Bending over, s-he thought of "over-the-shoulder-boulder- holders". The phrase became ast-reality: Cutting into he-r shoulders, their weight pulled he-r off of he-r feet. They went crashing through the floor. "What in Jackson Pollack?!" Aunt Irene gaped, coming close enough to look over the bed. (The two-year-old was startled, and clung to his mother's back and chest.) Julienne was up on her feet, "Do having your boobs up like that throw your balance off??" Nicole recovered enough from her shock to cry, 'They never did that when I had them-And they'd better not!!' Nicole's mother stooped down, "Are you alright? What happened?" Nicole 'told' her, 'Boobs, what else!?! What else is a guy going to think when he thinks of bras like that!' Taylor-Nicole was now just lying on ordinary but very squashed together hooters. "It has to do with astral projection! Has to!" s-he said through clenched teeth, pushing he-rself up on he-r forearms. (Strands of hair everywhere.) "Is that why you're a fast healer?" she was starting to help "Buddy" up. "I've never gotten hurt like this. But I've never been a girl, before." Talking seemed to ease the pain by using he-r mind for something else, "I bet the whole thing has to do with me being dead." Julienne said, "There she goes again. There's not going to be any of Buffy's bad guys showing up?" Her mother came to stand beside her with Bobby, "There are no such things as vampires, or ghouls, dear," she tried to reassure her. But she eyed the girl being helped up, "Only ghosts." "Be careful!" Margot told "Buddy", now standing. "We don't want you become dead again. Not when you're Nicole." +++ "Come on," Margot herded Irene and Julienne away. "It's getting crowded with all of us on the same side." The slacks still lying on the floor where s-he'd dropped them when s-he'd dropped, Taylor-Nicole (hair pushed back, again) now grabbed a top from the closet. 'Now what do you think you're doing?!' demanded ghost Nicole. "I don't want to have to look at these things again! I'm going to cover them!" Taylor-Nicole decided s-he didn't want to wear a tank top, and threw it away, grabbing another top. 'The sight of cleavage makes you do strange things, hunh?' (Julienne said, "If I had hooters like that-" ("No you won't!" her mom told her, pushing her ahead of her with her free hand, towards the door.) "I didn't do it on purpose!" Taylor-Nicole tossed a 'shirt' that would only cover the boobs. "And why would I want to have to boobs that size pulling on me!?! -What happened to that shirt you were wearing yesterday?!" 'The oxford? It's over on the other side of the bed.' She had to quickly get out of he-r way. Taylor-Nicole scrambled on top of the bed. (What a feeling; boobs that both fell down and out into things that pushed them back up and in. And the area around them had an added pull.) When he was far enough for the boobs to clear the edge, he reached down to snatch it up off the floor where it lay beside the denim skirt. "I thought you were one of those neat-freak girls?" (Again with the hair!) Standing through the hope chest, she said, 'I wasn't thinking tidy when I was trying to get you to look at me!' Up sitting on he-r bare calves, heels to butt, on the bed top: "What did happen last night?!" It was now Taylor-Nicole that was insisting, as s-he put the shirt on. "I remember you laying on the bed, and talking." Nicole crossed her arms, 'I was trying to talk with you. You know: Something called a conversation?' "We talked!" 'Like a patient talks to the dentist who's pulling his teeth. When you did talk what you talked about were the problems you were having. Well, I'm a part-time ghost, too, you know. We have to share this life together like the vows say: Until death do we part.' "But I'm the one that died! Ever since you figured out you needed me to keep away that mental empathy illness of yours, you've been acting like you're the boss!" Taylor-Nicole said, having buttoned all but the last bottom buttons. 'It is my body. It is my life I'm risking. What kind of life will either of us have if you mess it up?' Taylor-Nicole crawled like a lioness toward her over the bed. Nicole backed away out of the chest, 'You have to learn to act like me. That's the only way we can share my life. If I knew I could trust you to do that, I could take my body back, and let you be the ghost.' Taylor-Nicole frowned at her reaction as s-he reached for the ghost pants that Nicole had borrowed for his-Taylor's astral body to wear. "You trusted me enough to fall asleep. Or did I just bore you!?" 'That's how you got stuck in my body: You recovered while I slept!!' +++ Martin Wright took extra care on what to wear to school, that day. There were some clothes that just seemed to feel special that day. Starting with his pants. The End of this chapter Clarification, one: To use Nicole's body, Taylor has to use its reflexes. Her body strives to overcome the tics in the conflicting way of doing things, preferring its own. The more Taylor succumbs to Nicole's reflexes, the more he loses touch with his own. He merges with her body. If this story were illustrated, you would see his ghost form most sharply surrounding Taylor-Nicole's body when he-r was reflexively being least like her. What I couldn't find a place for, here: Nicole's mother encouraged and raised her to be positive as a way of rebounding from her condition. Since she was being taken over by other people's personalities, very little of that other identity would stay with her once her episodes passed. Being "happy and ready" helped her pick up her life "where it had left off". She has worked to remain sensible. A little of how astral projection works: It is beyond conscious control, since the connection is in an unconscious part of the mind. It is simpler to view an astral form as something familiar, just the ghost form of something real/solid. But occasionally the subconscious will reinterpret something (and, yes, it can seem more real than astral, since it is then under focus). I.e.: Presto changeo, it's magic. Taylor, like anybody detached from their body (he being dead), can be delusional. That he does not become truly hallucinatory (other than in the "Dreamtime") can be credited to the fact that he's connected both physically and empathically to reality through Nicole. She's the sensible one of the couple. Taylor's brain is the epicenter (a portal, as it were) of an astral field. Nicole's mind is now sensitized to it, but it isn't, as yet, her power. Her mind hasn't developed much of the knack, yet. She's still learning to see things that "aren't there". How far she's willing to do that, and time, will determine what "reinterpretations" she becomes aware of. (All that that means is Nicole may miss things that Taylor, and others, experience. She can be too sensible.) How sensible is Nicole? She is, after all, human. She will have her times. But I expect those will most likely bite somebody else's ast-reality. Only the story demands will tell.