Summer Of Samantha free porn video

This story is in the same vein as some of my others, however it focuses even more upon pregnancy than I have in the past. There is still a good deal of transformation, especially in the first part and I think it to be fairly good. The second part is much more about what I think it might be like being pregnant, it is heavy on the details so don't say I didn't warn you, though it is here also where the plot really gets tangled up. The last third is a sort of mirror of the first, with enough twists set up by what has already happened that I think things work out interestingly enough. I hope you find it interesting too. -Kim Summer of Samantha Part One: A Walk Down the Road My old dog's nails clicked along the pavement of the country road I had lived along for the entirety of my life. I had been out walking for about a half an hour (my old dog didn't have the 'get up and go' he used to, so even the shortest of walks took some time) when I began to get the uncanny feeling I was being followed. Turning around to stroll backward I found I was correct. There was someone approaching me from behind, I could see them fleetingly through the trees along this particularly curvilinear portion of the road. They were still a ways off, but it looked like they would overcome me before I reached my folks home at the pace they were moving at, a sort of a shuffling jog. I tried to get a better glimpse at who it was through the late Spring foliage. I knew just about all the people who called this road home, there weren't that many of us spread out along its considerable length. The people who moved out here tended to be somewhat isolationist. My first guess would have been a woman judging from the bits of rather bright purple and perhaps pink in the clothing. It had helped me to notice them at all in the first place. I slowed my pace unconsciously; it wasn't everyday that I got to converse with the locals. My dog obliged, his old legs had enough anyhow. I knew my follower was getting close when I started to hear their heavy breathing. Jogging, definitely, or at least some extreme power-walking. But I couldn't turn and look just yet. I wanted to keep them on equal footing with myself, not appear to have been anxiously waiting for them. I continued on until they were not far off, a few yards or so before turning to greet them. After all it might be a short conversation if they decided not to slow down and chat. It was a woman and I recognized her immediately for Mrs. Mossgeiler, my closest neighbor to the south. Closest here meaning nearly 5 acres down the road. I had seen Mrs. Mossgeiler run this stretch dozens of times before but not yet this Spring. In fact I hadn't seen her in nearly a half a year. I had assumed she'd moved or found different employment or something for the weather had been unseasonably warm all Spring. Not only was Mrs. Mossgeiler my closed neighbor in terms of location, but she was also the closest person on this road to my own age. Mrs. Mossgeiler had been married two years earlier, at the tender age of 19. This I knew. My folks whom I lived with, at least until I start University in the Fall, always speculated on what she did for a living. Nobody ever saw her leave her house (save for the bouts of jogging that I previously thought had ceased) so we assumed she was just a homemaker, though the couple had no children. Her husband was constantly out on business; my Dad told me he was some sort of corporate hound or another. That was code for 'not to be trusted.' I had never set eyes on the man. But I knew the Missus. She was not a person you easily forget. Mrs. Mossgeiler was just 3 years my senior. That means if we had attended the same high school I would have seen her around when I was a freshman. She was a tiny woman to put things mildly. Not only short, had to be a full foot shorter than my 6'3", but she was just plain tiny. If I had to hazard a guess I'd have said she was easily less than 100 lbs. She had very light feet and seemed to float off the ground when she walked. Mrs. Mossgeiler did not have a particularly curvaceous figure and by that I mean she was flat-chested and had no real hips or bottom. Nonetheless she had an astounding face which had rendered me speechless on the few times in the past where I had chanced to come across her. Come to think of it I was glad we hadn't gone to the same school. My gawking would surely have gotten me beaten up by her boyfriend, perhaps even the one who married her. That face which I had not seen in a half year was still just as bewitching, albeit flushed from exertion. What had changed about her? Well, what else hadn't changed. Mrs. Mossgeiler had put on almost 25 pounds which she could have easily done anyway and still looked quite good. However the source of the weight-gain had allocated it all to her mid-section. Mrs. Mossgeiler was pregnant. Quite a bit so. Her arms were still pale twigs swung at her sides with reckless yet graceful abandon as she approached, her small tee-shirt sleeves ended just past her miniature shoulders. Her legs were still toothpicks, with the barest hint of newly acquired muscle-tone, though I couldn't see them clearly under her loose-fitting purple wind-pants. Loose-fitting until they reached her middle where they struggled to climb the slope of her taught looking belly. Her tee just barely eclipsed her navel but failed to tuck itself beneath her athletic pants. The result was a visible slice of waxing and waning skin globe, widening when she took in a deep breath, slipping thinner when she exhaled. "Hello Mrs. Mossgeiler." I spoke as she grew nearby. "Hello... you must be the Garner's boy," She said slowly and motherly as if she wasn't nearly my own age and was an old hand at dealing with 'youngens'. She was slightly out of breath. "Yeah that's right, my name's Jack." I offered my hand. I am SO polite. At least with the opposite sex. She took it and placed her own tiny mitt inside as we shook, "Mine's Molly." I was surprised how warm her hand was. And moist. That tends to happen when you work out, stupid, I thought to myself. Molly had stopped power-walking for the time being and continued on at my old dog's pace. I kept my eyes on him for fear of embarrassing myself by either becoming a bumbling idiot when looking into Molly's reflective blue eyes, or in avoiding them, staring at her advanced condition. And her belly sure stuck out. Very much out of place. To look at her was to think that what one was seeing was an optical illusion. No way was there enough of her to handle such an expanded abdomen. As my eyes initially flitted from her face to her belly I could feel my face blush. It deepened when I noticed that as a side effect of the pregnancy she was also now supporting something much more considerable up top. Two remarkably perky and surprisingly large breasts nestled in her sports bra. Not at all what I remembered. In places the fabric of her shirt was transparent from sweat... "Its okay to look, I don't mind, I mean where else are you going to gawk anyhow? It just keeps getting bigger and bigger anyway, nothing I can do 'bout that for 3 months or so." Molly said walking close to me. I could smell her perspiration, which oddly enough reminded me of the old road itself after a good rain. When all of the dust and fragrance from the vegetation gets kicked up and everything seems so alive. Sure beat what I smelled like after a good work-out. "It's more of a pain in the butt than anything else," Molly concluded about her pregnancy. "Oh, I... I just didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable..." I stuttered looking up at her face. Bad idea. "Uncomfortable? Heavens no. Uncomfortable is lugging around 25 extra pounds of kicking, punching, well you get the picture. Uncomfortable is not people taking notice of my changing shape." Molly lamented. "So, uh, you can exercise like that?" I asked honestly enough. "You talk like I'm a victim of some disease. Its just pregnancy. Mind you it IS annoying... I can't do a lot of things but I can power-walk okay. Its one of the few things I can do and stay in shape. That and yoga... and swimming. Don't want to blow up like some big pregnant blimp." Molly rambled on. I thought to myself she sure must have been working hard. There wasn't an ounce of misplaced cellulite on her. I'd better watch myself, was I checking her out? Careful now. Dangerous territory. "I didn't mean to say it like that, I was just wondering about what's good for the kid... you yourself look fine. More than fine, you look great." I said stopping and looking down from her face to my feet. She stopped to look back at me, our faces a mere foot apart. Had I gone too far with that last comment? "Aw, that's sweet of you kid. Making the big pregnant lady feel good about herself..." She started and ended with a sudden kiss on my cheek. She had to extend up on her tip-toes. Her breath was fragrant sweet. And hot. "Seriously..." I mumbled blushing again. "You compliment me again and I'll have to give you another smooch. And I'm all gross from the exercise. Look at me, you don't want me near you," Molly said posturing herself out. Sweat was making her tee stick in places, mostly where it stretched tightest, around her belly, lower back and chest. The sports bra she wore underneath was a deep blue. If I looked hard enough I could even see through that... "Uh, you said you couldn't do too much..." I said changing the subject fearing I might get turned on if the woman kept being so intimately friendly and showing herself off. "Oh... oh yeah! Hey, you could help me out actually! My husband Roger has been gone for almost a week and he telephoned to say he won't be back for at least another. The problem is there are a few things around the house that I need help with, heavy stuff, Man-work and stuff out of my reach, you wouldn't believe how hard it is to get stuff out of the upper cabinets as short and round as I am. Anyhow, ya know, simple stuff, wouldn't take you ten minutes. Think you could give me a hand?" Molly inquired sweetly. Did she flutter her eyelashes? "Uh, sure I guess." I said scratching my head. Nothing like going home with some babe while her husband is away... Awkward anyone? "Great! I'll even make you some lemonade to thank you!" Molly said and slipped a slick arm around my lower back. It was clammy but warm, a heat so intense I thought it might burn right through my T-shirt. We walked like that to the end of her drive and I kept looking for passersby to see us and start rumors. I thought to myself that maybe Molly was just looking for somebody to talk to for a little while. It must be lonely when your husband is always out of town. Then we went down the long curving path to her house. The home was considerably big, easily a half million dollars. And here was this poor girl, knocked up and all by herself to walk around its miles of hallways. It would make anyone talkative to strangers. I had to feel for her. After tying up my dog outside we went in. In the back hall I sat to remove my muddy shoes. Molly stood next to me in her Nikes, her belly precisely at the level of my head. When I turned to look for her I nearly smacked my face right into it. She had to have done it on purpose, she could have stood anywhere. It was as if she was parading the fact that yes, she had sex, so much sex in fact that this had happened to her. "Sorry, just in the way!" She chirped patting herself, "Sometimes I wish so badly I could just get rid of this altogether..." She mumbled under her breath. "What was that?" I asked standing up to my full formidable height. "Oh nothing, just talking to myself." Molly had me walk down into the canyon of basement to retrieve a spring water tank for the reservoir atop her cooler in the kitchen. The other faded transparent blue barrel had run out. "So Rog doesn't even leave me for 2 days and this thing gives out. I told 'im it would and he just shrugged his shoulders. How's that for compassion? And I get SO thirsty. Can't ya tell?" Molly said before downing a tall glass of the newly installed water. "Warm but good. And beats the heck out of that awful tap water. Yuck. Anyhow I jog a lot and that oaf knew I..." She rambled on and on. Her voice filled my ears but it was her body that danced around in my head. Molly then had me fumble around in her attic for a few impossibly heavy items that I could conceive of little practical use for while she fixed some lemonade downstairs. I rejoined her at the kitchen table in front of a giant glass of the yellow drink, chunks of citrus fruit bobbing up and down among rapidly dissolving sugar crystals. I tasted it and damn if it wasn't good. I heard my dog whimpering outside where I'd tied him up, but I soon forgot he was there. I had three glasses before realizing I might be acting rude. There is something in being too gracious a guest. How long had I been here? Suddenly time felt all out of joint to me. I could have been sitting there looking at Molly for hours. "I'm sorry I drank so much of your lemonade, it's just so..." I began. "Good, isn't it?," Molly finished. "Yeah, nothing like it. My own special recipe. Some say it has secret life-changing powers... Say, you aren't too full to help me with one last thing, are ya?" "Of course not." I returned sloughing the clouds from my noggin away. Brushing some lingering attic dust and insulation from off my shoulders I then followed the girl up the stairs to the second floor where the ceilings were an additional two feet higher and the knick-knacks twice as expensive looking. The ascent was slow, Molly had me go behind her 'for her own safety' but all this did was give me a nice shot of her curvy behind. As her wind-pants rubbed together and made a hypnotic sound with every step I swore I could see the lines of her underwear. I was going crazy. How perverse was it to check out the neighbor's pregnant wife? Yet from this angle you could barely tell she was with child. I looked at my feet, then gave in again. Well I supposed a peek was alright, as long as nobody knew... "Here we are," Molly said finally leading me to a large room. I stepped through and she followed me in close behind. To my growing embarrassment I realized it was the woman's bedroom. Her large bed was unmade, I could see the small crevice formed out of comforters and sheets where she must have climbed out. It was the type of bed which had tall curtains which could be drawn closed for privacy. Panicking I heard a noise and spun around. It was a high-pitched click. The door was now locked. "Molly what's going on here? What do you need me to do in your bedroom?" I asked the girl even though I had an awful feeling as to where this was going. She stood with her hands behind her back and a smile growing wider with every breath. It was a childish, impish, toothy smile. Pure delicious evil. "Well isn't it obvious Jack? I want you to have sex with me. My husband hasn't touched me ever since I had the slightest curvature to my figure and that was five months ago. FIVE MONTHS! Can you believe it? I need you Jack, I need your young..." Molly blurted out, her demeanor completely altered. "Are you crazy? Have you gone mad? Your husband would kill me! Not to mention the fact you've only been married for two years!" I sputtered, waving my hands wildly backing away from her. I was frightened by this situation, most of all because I wanted it so badly. "Oh, no he won't. He'll never find out," Molly said seductively walking closer to me, "What are you going to do, knock me up?" Molly laughed with her whole body, my eyes fixed unavoidably on her jiggling bosom. I had to admit, even with her great belly she was still stunning. Perhaps because of it. "But it's... wrong." I said looking to the ground sheepishly my resolve seeping away. I was losing this battle before it had begun. "What's the matter, you don't find me attractive?" Molly said placing her finger on her lower lip pensively and fluttering her eyelashes. 'What are we in kindergarten?' I thought, 'you know very well you're good looking' though I never said it aloud. "It's not that..." I said losing control of the situation where things mattered most. I knew she could see me tenting my jeans as we stood a few feet apart. "I see for myself! Well then you'll just have to screw me then. And besides, there's only one key to that door and oops there it goes!" Molly said slipping the small key down the front of her wind pants. "You'll just have to go and get that on the way in." The pressure in my jeans was building to a point where I thought things might be over before they started. It was a perverse desire that blossomed the more I tried to convince myself that I shouldn't be doing anything here. That she was married. And pregnant. Pregnant woman were supposed to be disgusting, after all there was a child inside her that was some other man's, that alone should be a huge turn off... but why was Molly so infatuating? Rational thought was abandoning me. By this point she was standing mere inches from my body. Her feminine smell filled my nostrils and dulled the saner portions of my mind. Her short brown ringlets of hair seemed animated, each one wiggling me closer like one thousand curling index fingers. A radiant heat swept from her body and felt wholesome and good. Molly grabbed the bottom of her tee and lifted it up and off. The material of her sports bra was nearly see-through, but it too plummeted to the floor in swift animal grunts and motions. Molly stood before me half-naked and all I could do was ogle her. If I touched her I would lose my mind. Her breasts were perfect. They projected outward off her tiny frame in gravity defying arcs. They were far from large, but looked too big for Molly, much too big even with her distended middle. Her areolas were distinctively dark though her nipples on the whole were small enough to avoid overt attention. They were surrounded in two pale white curves with just the vaguest traces of a few freckles. Perfect. I watched them rise and fall to her breath. I was getting hypnotized. "It's okay, you can touch 'em Jack," Molly said taking my hand and cupping her own breast. Any resistance I had left me then. Gently she pressed my hand down until a soft intake of breath escaped her lips. Simultaneously I let go of her and a tiny bead of liquid formed at the tip of her breast. "Don't let it go to waste Jack, it'll taste good, I promise..." Something rose up in the back of my head as if cautioning me that this woman was not far enough along for this sort of thing to happen, but that warning was stifled by lust. I leaned down and did as I was told, pursed my lips. With a soft flick of my tongue I removed the droplet. I was taken aback by how warm it was, how sweet it tasted. It made the lemonade taste like cough syrup. Unabashed I planted my lips down and tongued it once more and was instantly rewarded with a molten stream of the stuff covering my tongue. I shut my eyes and became an infant again if only for a few moments. "That's it, finish what you start," Molly said running her hands through my short black hair. When I felt it slackening I simply moved to the right and continued drinking her in. It ran down my throat and burned like strong liquor. As with alcohol I also felt curiously intoxicated though I could have been imagining things. Perhaps it was my growing desire that muddled my cognition. What was in this stuff? All this time she was slowly positioning herself toward her bed. She sat down and opened a drawer while I blindly suckled now on my knees. I could hear her shake something then release a foamy spray. When I peaked out I saw she had drawn a winding spiral of what looked to be whipped cream, which started from her perfectly flattened navel. "This is for me Jack, You wouldn't believe how sensitive the skin of my belly has become, how tight, how full I feel, every pound I put on increasing the pressure till I think I might just lose it all..." But I was already going to work on her belly button. I had guessed right, it was whipped cream, or something very similar. It cooled my humid mouth and now I knew why they put the stuff on top of hot cocoa. It was the perfect follow-up to what I had just downed. Carefully I made my way in a widening spinning circle as Molly lay back on her elbows and looked to the ceiling. Her face was beaming with pleasure. The skin of her belly was like the lining of a tight drum. I paused here and there to kiss her forcefully. Eventually the path ended an inch from the low sling of her wind-pants, which had fallen precipitously. I tugged at them lower and made my way downward but Molly grabbed my head and spoke, "No honey, no need for your mouth down there, you'll take me now." I stood up crazed and out of my senses, a warped ecstasy laced sugar- buzz filled my head with the sound of a beehive. Not bothering with my shirt I went to work on my pants releasing my imprisoned body. I was bigger than I ever remembered. Molly furiously tugged her pants lower and kicked them off hastily. My eyes lowered to her underwear, small beige panties which did not fit her properly at all. She should have given up on them long ago. I saw the key she had dropped pressed tightly against her low pelvis. She removed it and her underwear and opened her legs wide. Lunging at her I found it frustratingly hard to enter, I was thrown off by the scale of her belly. Awkwardly I tried again and again and was met with only the barest penetration. "Here Jack, Take this way," Molly said clumsily shifting up on the bed on her hands and knees. She turned around until her tiny backside was facing me. Then she lifted her bottom up and spread her legs as wide as they'd go. I didn't think it'd work, but then I found myself far within her, burying more of me than I thought I'd ever possess. I swallowed her thin back and shoulders up in my strong arms and chest, wrapping my hands around her breast and belly, which was moist with a mixture of perspiration and leftover cream. Our breathing was hard and fell in rhythm, we rose and fell together. I nestled my face in her brown locks, which smelled like some sort of berry shampoo. Somehow she knew I was nearing my limit and stopped me from going further. Turning she pushed me down hard on my back. Carefully she crawled upon me, her belly just brushing my own, her breasts hanging down but held tightly still performing their magical anti-gravity act. Each movement of hers made them jiggle. Without a word Molly sat up and lowered herself upon me and this time it was not I who entered her, but she who grasped me. With great dexterity she moved herself and this time there would be no stopping. I could tell she was finding her own limit as well when she raised her hands to the sky and opened her mouth in a silent scream. I followed suit seconds later, curling myself up to kiss her bare shoulder at the moment of release. Fatigued I dropped back to the bed and found myself severely exhausted. It was difficult to keep my eyes open. Yet what I saw between long slow blinks confused me and wasn't without a bit of horror. Molly's belly was getting smaller. At first I thought it was all in my head, maybe she had been holding some of it in (how can you hold a child in, what muscles do that?). But after a half minute I was positive she was getting thinner. "Molly..." I mumbled, "Molly, are you getting... smaller?" I barely managed to say, my mouth failing me. My lips heavy and my tongue was thick. My mind was thicker. Molly may not of heard me but she sat on top of me looking down at herself and saw too what perplexed me. She continued to thin out, months wasting away in seconds until a passerby would not even guess her with child. Finally even her breasts lost their recent robust curvature, deflating down two sizes and leaving Molly relatively flat once more. I was losing my mind, that didn't just happen. What was this some sort of temporal ellipse? Were we going back in time? Who has sex to become un-pregnant? Molly sat upon me and smiled magnificently. She had never looked more beautiful. "That worked tremendously well!" She said trying to maneuver herself off my body which was rapidly becoming flaccid. She knelt above me and I tried hard to concentrate on what had just happened, how she had gone from nearly six months to zero in less than a minute. Where did the baby go exactly? "Feeling a little tired, Jack?" Molly whispered with a hint of malice. "You have... no idea... Molly what is this... some sort of dream?" My whole sensory intake was clouded and surreal. The walls of the room seemed to bend and sway, the light of the lamp beside me was producing a whitish foggy haze. Molly seemed smaller and out of focus. And me, I felt cold, suddenly frigid. It hit me down low first, my reproductive organs shriveling impossibly small. Goosebumps coated my arms and legs and I began to shiver. The hair on my head stood on end and my eyes began to lose their leaden lids. My sight was returning, things were getting clear again. But simultaneously I felt like I had been laid in a mountain stream. Terribly cold. I could not stop shivering. Molly looked at me with the attention of a scientist following a particularly interesting experiment to see if it went satisfactory when there was a tremendous possibility for error. Like someone watching a butterfly struggle to emerge from a cocoon. She was staring intently at my... And then it was gone. One moment I was just cold, then another. My body had caved in, a creeping, horrible feeling of myself being carved away. I clenched my thighs together hoping to stop whatever was happening to me down there but it wouldn't halt. And the normal sensation of there being something between my legs was replaced by a sinister lack of anything. No, not a lack. There was something, but it was diving inward not protruding out. I sat up wildly crawling backward on the large unmade bed. I attempted to leave my own body, to leap from my own skin. But I couldn't, I couldn't crawl out of my warping body and I just continued to experience the shaping of my new anatomy. Tugs and intrusions swept my groin, as if some invisible hand was reaching inside my new cavity and rearranging my organs for its own will. A churning, bubbling sound audibly left my lower abdomen, like the sound of a hungry stomach though much more unsettling. I had never heard the like before. There was a good deal more going on in there than a bunch of stomach acid with nothing to digest or a little bit of gas. Finally I found the power of speech. "Molly, what's going on!? What have you done to me!?" My voice kept spiraling up hysterically. I sat dumbfounded with my legs wide, my eyes wider as they saw the defining slit, which had entered my world and changed it forever. "What the hell is that!?" "I think you know perfectly well what that is dear," Molly began, "Why you were enjoying yourself within one mere moments ago." I shook my head in disbelief. I became aware that my legs had subtly changed as well. No longer were they coated in the dense body hair I had known for years. It had all vanished, leaving two pale white sticks. Much of their musculature had dissolved and a good deal of fat had invaded them, especially as they reached my resculptured groin. Even my feet seemed radically smaller, foreign and unusable. These were not my legs. My bottom began to spasm then, muscles clenching and releasing involuntarily. Yet each time they tightened the release was less and less. It felt to be building up mass, like I was sitting on a cushion or something. I fought hard to believe what my senses were relaying to my injured psyche. This was not really happening. No, no, no, how could it be? Violently I twisted my hips to the left and found them shift wider by whole inches. Then in reaction I swayed them to the right where the right hip followed suit. Not only had they widened dramatically but they felt as if they had climbed upward, as if they were nearing my armpits. This was not happening, this was a nightmare, a bizarre unconscious stroll. "Why those look like... well, I'll be, look at that... those look like child-bearing hips dear!" Molly mocked. I placed my hands upon them and took in their new dimensions in a tactile fashion. Meanwhile I watched in awe as the soft sparse hair of my belly withered away into nothingness. My chest became sunken and hairless and that was when I began to notice my breasts. My breasts. Mine. They were jutting out so softly at first. But like an impending storm they rumbled forth faster and faster. Flesh accumulated like a child rolling up portions of a snowman, with every push the size increased exponentially. Curves developed down from my armpits and rounded out my growing chest. The weight struck my mind hard, for with every breath there was more of me, more of me to rise and fall. That chill that had struck me so forcefully before had not entirely left and my nipples stiffened embarrassingly. They had not increased in size much, but the surrounding areola had widened noticeably. Intent so much upon my chest I barely noticed the decline of my powerful arms, the removal of strength and hair to be replaced by smooth and lanky feminine arms. My fingers tapered shorter and finer, my knuckles descending into oblivion. "You look about a c-cup dear, I'm jealous!" Molly said standing up with her hands on her hips. She had reclothed mostly, though without her previous physical impediment. The rest hit me where I couldn't see. I felt my face twitch and pull, my features melt and swell. Much of me got smaller, my prominent nose and ears, my square chin and dense eyebrows. But again, fat returned to take its place, not much, but enough to where I felt its addition to my cheeks, which blushed immediately red. Fat even found its bloated way into my lips, or so it felt. I slouched then, defeated though I never really had a chance at this particular battle. Mild surges and vibrations would pass over this part or that but my bizarre transformation was nearly over. I kept expecting my hair to start tumbling over my shoulders, spilling down my back and chest. But it never came. It felt a good deal denser and with a certain feathery feel. It may have lengthened a few inches but it still felt very short. I just looked down at myself, between the cleft of my new breasts all the way down the slope of my hairless belly until it met the sparse hair of my groin. It had turned blonde. So I was a blonde now. The knowledge of this was slightly less traumatizing than a sudden development of a vagina or the spontaneous outgrowth of breasts. "Why, you're quite the stunner, darling." Molly said looking me up and down. "Looks like you should've been a girl all along, not that you weren't a catch before." I looked up sheepishly at Molly wondered just how she had done this to me. Or why. "Oh, don't give me those puppy dog eyes. You knew what you were getting into. What kind of a person has sex with their neighbor's pregnant wife? Very loose morals my dear. Of course that's what everyone will be thinking about you soon enough. How old are you anyway?" "18," I replied and winced as my voice lilted with a soft soprano. I feared to speak again. "Well I hate to break it to ya, but you don't look more than a day over 16. Sometimes these transformations reverse or advance time a bit, but that was not my intention. If you are in fact younger it is a mere side-effect." Molly explained. "Your intention!" I said fury rising up within me, "Your intention!? Then what was your intention!?" I stepped from the bed and stood up. I tried my best to be fearsome and intimidating but my body's balance was so new that I must have looked frightfully awkward. As it was I was still at least 4 inches taller than Molly and had her by at least 20 pounds. That didn't leave me with much as Molly was a mere sprite. "My intentions? Well isn't it obvious?" Molly spoke. I shook my head from side to side advancing on her. At least my body had stopped tingling and rumbling. All felt normal except a slight bit of heat and pressure in my lower belly which I attributed to whatever organs I now maintained in there. Molly continued on, "I never wanted to get pregnant. I did not want to have children, with my husband or anyone else. With every passing week, with every pair of pants that ceased to fit, with ever unusable tight- fitting bra, with every bathroom break during the middle of the night I grew more sure that this was not what I wanted. And with my husband always leaving and never at home it would be me to take care of the children, me to raise them and I simply don't have the time. My interests lay elsewhere and are time-consuming all in their own." "So you shouldn't have gotten knocked up then!" I said the coarse words coming out in such a feminine sound that I almost denied them as mine. "Maybe I shouldn't have, but I did. Not that it matters any more. You and I can both see that I will have no more morning sickness, back- aches, stretch-marks and dry skin." Molly said this proudly patting her newly trim figure. "You... killed your child!?" I said shocked and confused. Not much was making sense at the moment. My body was still in flux, the finishing touches of my femininity materializing as I spoke. But there was something else as well. Something deeper. I was starting to sweat, my upper lip and lower back growing moist as a heat within my groin stoked higher. Maybe all was not finished within me after all. Molly took a step back from me and looked down at my navel. "Nonsense. I merely gave THEM a new home." At first I did not comprehend what she implied and my brain focused on what new information it could understand. 'Them?' I thought, then spoke, "You were pregnant with twins!?" "Yes I was... And now, my dear... YOU are." "No!" I barely muttered and then began to mumble over and over again. The fire in my belly now had a more sinister implication. And was I just a trace bigger about the abdomen than I remembered myself to be just seconds ago? It was hard to determine having only just viewed its female version and felt my new physique for only a few minutes. "Oh yes, I assure you. All of those draughts you had started things off. Sex clinched it. We did more than exchange fluids my friend, we exchanged whole lives!" Molly laughed and patted her miniscule waist for the second time. "So I'm... I'm you now?" I said backing my way to the bed. The horror wouldn't stop. It was all getting worse and worse. The pressure was growing inside me, an animated force which moved entirely by itself. I needed to sit down or I would fall over. "No nothing of the sort you dolt." Molly said opening up her dresser and casually rummaging around. "I merely used my arts and changed your body into what it would be had you been conceived with a second X chromosome instead of that fateful Y. And as I said, you don't know what you've been missing dear. You were a handsome man, but would have been and now are, a much more attractive young woman." "And the children?" I asked feeling a dull thump within me as something inside moved. Indigestion with attitude or my own brand new unborn child. I sat down on the bed and clutched my belly in my hands, still nothing more than the smallest bit of paunch. No one would even have guessed me to be pregnant yet. The real growth had yet to set in. But it was coming. "Oh, they're yours now. Biologically even. Of course they're still my husbands also... Funny, they are the intimate creation of the two of you and you didn't even get the pleasure of screwing the man! Excellent in bed really, much better than you... uh, were." Molly laughed again. My brain wheeled, my stomach churned. I let out a moan as a noticeably vigorous increase in pressure hit my belly and I closed my eyes after watching it bulge out visibly. I spread my legs wide and rubbed my naked tightening abdomen. The skin was just barely keeping up with the growth within. It felt as if I might tear right open. As strange as it sounds, it wasn't all pain. As much as I wanted the growth to end, to not to be there all, a distinct pleasurable sensation was caught up in this swift expansion. As if the growing tension was causing an equally potent sexual tension... "That's it dear, it's all in the breathing. And just so you know, you haven't felt anything yet." Molly said finally extracting some clothes from her dresser. I moaned again much louder and lay back on the bed. My face drenched in sweat, the clumps of my new blonde hair sticking to the sides of my forehead. My stomach rose like a shiny inflatable skin dome, the force within expanding in all directions terribly strong. I wiggled my way back onto the bed. It was an effort, my thighs twitched in a mixture of exertion and erotic release, my feet just sticking off the end, my hands running through my short hair. "Half way there." Molly made the play by play. My moaning became a sensual shriek as the pressure turned to a throbbing ache. I clawed at the bed-sheets and kicked at the air. My breath came in shortening bursts; it was hot and moist coming out of my mouth. My belly continued to push out, rounding ominously the skin thin, moist and pale looking. It quivered in continual expansion. I felt all sorts of kicking and punching, somersaulting and gymnastics as the life within me progressed on in its supernaturally swift development. I could practically hear my body straining, like the sound of hand running on the side of a full balloon. Finally the tension and pain became so great that I blacked out, lost in the nothingness of my unconscious. The last thing I knew before fading away was that I was climaxing for the first time as a woman and it felt wonderful. Part Two: The Choice of Two Different Lives When I came to I lay beneath the covers of Molly's bed and the woman sat in a chair beside me. Though I was only under for about ten minutes it was long enough to make me forget everything that had happened. I spoke blinking my heavy eyelids, "Molly... where am I, how did I get here, did I finish everything you needed me to do?" At first even my voice didn't even strike me as strange. I thought I was mis-hearing myself or something. Yet as the pitch and quality of my voice penetrated the murky depths of my mind I knew something was still very much awry. "Yes, you could say you did everything I needed and more." Molly returned with that awful shark-toothed grin. Far too many teeth showed. It made my flesh crawl to see it and instantly it all came back, the sex, the metamorphosis, the accompanying pregnancy... I tore the sheet from off my body and took in my new enormous prone form. I was huge. At least as big as Molly had been, probably larger. I was curiously free of stretch-marks which seemed utterly impossible. Molly contributed it to a mixture of a youthful 'give' and the outstanding inherent genetic quality of my skin. My navel stuck out a bit but looked like a thimble on the top of Saturn. I stated the obvious, "I'm... so big!" "Yes you sure are." Molly quipped. She got up and placed a bunch of clothes on the chair she had been sitting on and left the room quietly. I had expected a speech, all got was thin air. "Hey, Molly! Get back here, you can't leave me here, you gotta get me out of this!" I said struggling to sit up, let alone get out of bed. Finally I managed to sit on the edge and felt my new burden shift low on my body. It was so strange, to have such an intimate relationship with something, or things I guess was a better way to describe it and yet feel so detached from their entire existence. To be so physically close (you can't get much closer than right up inside someone!) and yet feel so far removed. I could do nothing physically without being immediately reminded of my condition. In a seated position, my breath came in shortened gasps as my lungs could only fill half way. I could feel my nakedness down below but could not close my legs to save grace. What's more I needed to use the bathroom severely. Standing up was one of the most daunting tasks I had to do in years. After firmly planting my feet about a shoulders length apart I hauled myself up by the aide of the chair and end-table. You take for granted how many muscles it takes to lift yourself up. For one thing I never knew how important one's stomach muscles were in this enterprise and with my advanced state there were relegated inoperable. After nearly losing my balance and falling head over heels I took my first step and wondered how I was going to follow it up with ten or more addition ones. And I new I hadn't even seen the worst of it. What did Molly say? This was only 6 months? That was hard to believe. The muscles in my legs and back were already sore and my ankles and knees popped like toy pistols. I arched my back and laid a hand upon it as I made my way to the adjacent bathroom. When I returned from the lav I found myself sitting naked once more on the edge of the bed. I looked at the pile of clothing on the chair and decided that I was going to have to put on something and I could spy my old clothes nowhere, not that they would fit very well now anyhow. I did not like staring at my bizarre naked form nor did I like what clothing I saw before me. On top was a pair of maternity knickers, a tent-like garment of white. In reality it wasn't all that different from my bvds, but what put me off was the inch of lace that topped the waistband off and circled the leg holes. I was actually going to be wearing woman's underwear. The sheer concept was baffling, but all I had to do was reach down around my large belly and all I'd find would scream woman and nothing more. I poked my legs though and mentally noted how thin they were. I was already forgetting what I looked like before I blew up and now all I had were these two misplaced looking popsicle sticks supporting the small planet of my body. My fingers occasionally brushed the eerie smoothness of my thighs. I sat up briefly and secured my under-drawers. I drew the waistline up, climbing for what must have been hours around the curve of my belly. Finally the cloth fell flat against my body, the elastic nearly reaching the level of my belly button. I could already feel the panties sliding between my cheeks and loathed how tight they fit just about everywhere. I had to remind myself that in a way I was almost lucky. Not all women's underwear was this... extensive. Images of thongs that amounted to nothing more than floss flitted through my head. I shuddered. The next item of business was a bra. No one thing was more feminine than this. For quite obviously as a man I had worn underwear upon my groin, sometimes quite snug. But never had I any experience with what I was about to put on. Sure I had taken them off from time to time, never as frequently as I had wanted to and yes I had even felt them as they held a girlfriend's boobs firmly in place, securing them in a reasonable immobility. But now it was going to hold me up in reasonable immobility. I held the thing with my fingers like the skin of a dead snake. How revolting. I was going to wrap this around my chest, lift and support... And then I looked down and really gazed at myself. I was quite busty. The accompanying pregnancy had done nothing but enhance my already curvy figure. In fact I was considerably bigger than I recalled. I reluctantly stared at myself as if reassuring my mind that I did in fact possess breasts, quite formidable ones with a small freckle here, a tiny mole there, a faint blonde hair just on the outside or a noticeably darker and wider areola. These babies were quite big and ready for well... babies. I experimented in taking in deep breaths, in stretching my arms behind me, in pushing my breasts together and watching what changed in there appearance. I found that they were simultaneously slightly sore and a bit sensitive and this increased sensitivity was not all unpleasant. I even went so far as to grasp my right nipple in my thumb and forefinger and pinch a little but then gave up from a combination of frightening arousal and the unfounded thought that I might start spraying milk everywhere. Finally I looped my noodle arms through the shoulder straps after incredulously reading the 'D' insignia (I had never even been with a girl that big let alone possess such a size myself). It fastened in the back. As I maneuvered the clasp closer I found my breasts being cupped more firmly. A first they just flattened generally but when they ran out of lateral room they began to swell upward and toward one another. In a surprisingly deft move I fixed the clasp and held my arms out wide in triumph. I even found myself smiling in accomplishment, then I remembered that I was really a man and that I was wearing a bra. My spirits plummeted back to normal. I shook myself from left to right and up and down. Amazing how much difference a prison of stretchy material and lace will make. Moving on I found pink dress shirt with buttons running up the middle and sleeves too short for a toddler. Much more familiar with this technology I put it on a shook my head at how I was able to put arms through sleeves that thin and short. And have my elbows barely even show! My shoulders must have been smaller than Molly's. Starting from the bottom I buttoned up the shirt, which descended until its width was less than mine. A slice of moon with an outie navel smack in its center now lay between my panties and shirt, about 4 inches in height. My fingers were light and nimble as I ran up my shirt until I ran out of buttons. I would have rather kept going seeing that there was room for two or three more at the top. The result was fairly low- cut. As it was the tightness of the shirt just contributed to hoisting my prodigious bosom up and exposing it for all to see. A striking spot of cleavage met my downward view, with a small mole the only imperfection just on the edge of where my breasts pressed together. I had cleavage and quite a bit of it. If I hollered down at myself I would probably hear an echo. Not to mention that my shirt was pink. Pink! This was absurd. It was all some hallucination brought on by spiked lemonade. After all, did I really have sex with my neighbor's pregnant wife? And that foreplay... breasts don't spurt milk like that until birth do they? But it all seemed so real in my head and all I needed to do was draw a breath and reality reminded me what it was. After I dressed I was going to storm out of this room and force that witch to change me back. Witch? Yeah, I guess that might explain it as well as any other. I'd believe anything right about now after what I'd been through. I slid on a loose-fitting skirt, which rested above the swell of my waist and reached my calves. It was white with scattered pink paisley which matched my shirt. The cloth was thin and I feared it might be slightly transparent. All in all I felt as if I was wearing far too little down below and far too much up above what with the bra and all. And nothing hid the fact that I was very far along with child. Lastly I slid on socks and by miraculous coincidence a pair of white sneakers that fit perfectly. I was ready to confront she who had changed me so drastically. After laboriously wandering around the large house where many of the rooms were locked and off limits I located my prey in the kitchen. Exhausted, embarrassed and decidedly uncomfortable in my unfamiliar form I was not ready for the spread she had waiting before me on the large wooden table where I had downed lemonade so long ago. It was a meal for an entire family. I then realized how hungry I truly was and set aside my anger for the moment. Molly smiled as I awkwardly sat and began to eat. I spoke between mouthfuls interjecting culinary commentary between more serious apprehension. "Molly, you have to get me out of this, I don't know if this is some sort of joke for you, or what. Geez, this chicken is delicious... I mean what are my parents going to say? Mmmm... that bread is so good, is it home-made? Back to the point... *munch munch* I can just picture things back home. I come walking in with my dog and they're like 'who the hell are you?' And then they'll notice the eerie similarities... the eyes which haven't changed a lick, the family resemblance, that sort of thing. Is that Apple cider? Mmmmm... It's even warm! *glug glug*" "Oh I took care of all of that while you rested. Or at least I've given you the opportunity to set things however you wish. Your dog is fine, safe and sound at home already. But you yourself have two options," Molly began. "You can go back home and the very moment you step through that front door, for all your parents know you've always been a girl. Your entire life will be altered around that single but revolutionary detail. They'll have one hundred thousand new tiny memories of you as a girl child that they won't be able to tell as not perfectly true. Because you see, if you go back... they WILL become true. Your entrance into that house will make them absolutely real. Your 'old' life would vanish as if it had never happened. Only you would remember it as it once was. As of right now you're still their only son, albeit a run-away. But if you return you'll be their only daughter. Mind you if you do decide to go back they won't behave exactly the same attitudes as they had in the past either. They'll have a different out-look on life having raised a precocious daughter instead of a boy and would probably be stressed out somewhat lately, not a small bit embarrassed by their young daughter being so foolish sexually. But they will stand behind you as always. Their love would still be there, unaltered and as pure as old. That, my dear, is something no magic or art can transform. Oh and should you decide to go back I think you even have a lamas class scheduled for tomorrow at 9am, but that's your choice of course." "They'll think I'm... a girl!?" I yelled between a last few heaping mouthfuls. "I hate to break this to you, but you ARE a girl sweetheart. Just take a look, trust me," Molly returned. "So what's the other alternative?" I asked licking my lips as I grabbed for another glass of cider. I did not like the 'being a girl for the rest of my life' card. "The other choice is that you don't go back. You stay here with me and pretend to be my little tramp of a niece who was kicked out of her home my intolerant and completely imaginary sister. It'll only be for a few more months, though I imagine your folks will file a missing persons report during that time. All the while you are away, to them you'll still be their dear, dear son. And it'll be very hard on them for a while. But after the children are born here... if you choose this road of course, you can always put them up for adoption and I can find a way to change you back and send you home back to 'normal.' Well, everything will be normal except the stress from the few months you were missing of course. Though I might even be able to whip up a cure for that too..." "How about option number three, you change me back now!" I screamed fists hitting the table. Empty dishes smeared with ketchup, syrup, left-over mashed potatoes and various gravies leapt and skipped. "I can't! Don't you see? A life is a life! I don't think you want to be an 18 year old boy who has two seven month old fetuses inside you. Not exactly a good idea. I could easily return you but what about them? I can't kill anything or alter the bonds of love. Those are two of very few intangibles beyond my power." Molly returned. "But... birth! I can't give birth! I'm supposed to be a boy, I'm not supposed to experience labor! I'm not supposed to experience this," I called out clutching my bulging belly, "or these!" I yelled frustratingly jiggling my large breasts. "Take the children back and give me back my body!" "Let's just say you'll have some unique sympathy for your future wife when the time comes you up and fill her void, um, that is if you stay here with me and return home in a few months as a boy again." Molly finished. "You leave me no choice." I mumbled wounded. I finished eating for a small army and sat pondering my decision. It wasn't really a difficult one. My folks were going to freak out. Right now they were staring at a dog with leash and collar but no walker. Where was their son? He wouldn't leave his dog to run free like this... Was he struck by a car... kidnapped? But I had to do it this way. I did not want to be a girl, pregnant or otherwise. I was a boy, it was everything I was used to. It was what my mind told me was correct. My present body felt foreign and wrong in all the minutest details. The sooner I was restored to my natural body the better. Even if I had to give birth to twins to do so. *** It had been nearly a month since that fateful day I ventured into the home of Molly Mossgeiler's. Of course I hadn't gone back to my parent's house, though I longed to console them at every free moment. I wanted to call them up and several times late at night I had the number dialed except for that last critical digit, then I'd hang up and begin to sob. I saw police cars come shortly after my transformation, heard the helicopter and saw its searchlight, an officer even came to Molly's home and questioned her in depth. She was politely unhelpful. I recalled opening my eyes a few days after the body-switch and seeing a tall dark man in uniform glaring down at me under my thick covers as Molly looked in and pointed claiming me as her niece. The man had demanded entrance into the bedroom and the right to speak with anyone in the neighborhood but couldn't find the heart to interrogate me. The face here was no run-away boy's, but an unfortunate young woman. She had enough to deal with without some beat cop out looking for some missing punk kid. By the looks of things she was going through quite the ordeal herself. That morning of the encounter with dark strange officer was a lot like the morning a month later. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and was reunited once again with the fact that I was still not quite myself. Not yet. Soon though, right? Couldn't be much longer. As early summer had moved in the weather had grown hot and muggy. Sleep became difficult and would have been regardless of the temperature and humidity what with my large burden. Adequate sleeping positions diminished by the evening and even the viable ones were only useful for a short period of time before a leg, arm or cheek fell asleep. As it stood I hadn't grown too much in the past month. Oh, I'd grown some, sure and perhaps I was just getting used to things (the thought of getting 'used to' this made me shudder even in the stifling heat) but I honestly had expected worse. I lay there in the spare bedroom uncomfortably sweaty, the window open but already letting more evil in than good. Under the thin sheet I was wearing one of Molly's white sports bras and a pair of draw string cotton pajama bottoms with flared hems at the ends of the legs. There wasn't much draw left in the waist though. The leggings were stuck to my moist skin and rode halfway up my legs. Yet they were the most comfortable piece of clothing I could find. Recently it was all about comfortability. I often wore them during the days; it wasn't like I was receiving many gentlemen callers and had to keep up my image. I hadn't even met Mrs. Mossgeiler's husband Roger who had even come through for three days at one point, but had stayed away ever since. While he was here the woman did an astounding job of hiding him from me and me from him. Of course I had heard them arguing at first, Roger calling out, 'How dare you... they were my children too, blah blah blah.' But then I think Molly must have bewitched him 'cause they never brought it up even once more. She even told him all about me in make-believe detail, relaying the fictional niece hoo-ha once more and he swallowed every word despite the obvious discrepancies. It didn't seem to bother him that he had never once met this phantom sister of his wife or her niece. Or that not only was said niece pregnant, but was exactly as far along as Molly had been until just recently. How I just appeared to show up at precisely the time his wife's pregnancy vanished. Molly also told him that because of my state I was extremely shy and wary of men. Little did he know I was carrying HIS kids. That thought made me curious. The least I could do was get a look at the guy. But I never did. In fact my days were oppressively boring and utterly alone. Molly avoided me most of the days, busy with whatever witchcraft she enjoyed. I only saw her at meal times and not even then sometimes. Because of the pregnancy I probably slept or napped nearly 12 hours a day, but it was a restless, miserable sleep and being awake wasn't much better. I had to use the toilet an obscene amount of times. All else I could do was eat (which I kept to a minimum, though I did find myself eating the most repulsive things), lie around and bathe. I would sun bathe myself in the secluded pool out back and had gained a nice tan. If I could be proud of anything at all, it was that. My hair was an inch and a half longer and now curled round my tiny ears and tickled the back of my neck. It had become greasy and no matter how often I washed it, still felt thick, oily and limp. I often would mess it up in my hands and feel it sticking up in all directions. In the mirror I looked like some sort of punk-rock elf. In general my body, much of the time felt quite gross. The skin of my face was too oily and I found myself getting a blemish or two despite constant face-washing. At times I had terrible BO which I would mask in perfume and powder so feminine smelling I almost wished I had kept the body odor. I also passed gas more often, although it was a frequent meek girlish release more annoying than disgusting. Glamorous life, eh? Bet you are glad I shared all the gory details. Other than that I was pretty much the same person I remembered becoming that tragic late spring eve. My breasts seemed to be sorer of late, as if getting used to them was easy without the added trauma inflicted upon them from pregnancy, I had to deal with their consistent ache as well. But they hadn't grown any more thank goodness. Once and a while they would leak this awful warm sticky stuff which left me feeling like an infant who couldn't control its own bodily functions. This happened from time to time when I slept. I ended up wearing padding most of the time which made my tits look even bigger than they really were. In the end I began to agree with the opinion of most girls I had known prior to this debacle. Breasts were just 'in the way'. And of course my belly was bigger no matter how much I tried to deny it. Sure it was a bit healthier looking with a bit of a tan and all of the moisturizer and lotion I heaped on it to keep it from itching and developing stretch-marks (the thought of those icky veins even disgusted my male mind) seemed to help, but I could not deny that it was constantly getting even bigger. I felt it at all times. I began to spend a lot of time swimming in the pool where I could feel some relief from gravity. The little swimsuit number Molly gave me was a non- maternity one-piece without a back and as such it warped around me comically leaving much of my sides uncovered. The neckline plunged obscenely low and the width of the body didn't even cover the sides of my belly let alone curve around toward my back. But I felt better in it than a two piece which I tried once and my exposed body felt like the Taj Mahal. I would wear the latter when I sun-bathed, in the remote area I often went topless, but any time in the water I made with the black one-piece. Eventually curiosity got the best of me. Molly stopped giving me updates on my family and I grew worried about their state of mind. What lengths would they go to find me? What if my mother did something to herself in anguish? What if they moved? Left in a house that reminded them so much of their lost son? A thousand paranoid thoughts swirled in my head, so one night I decided to sneak over and do some snooping. Just for peace of mind. Maybe even leave them a note? Tell them I was okay? Maybe that was too risky. Molly had quite an assortment of maternity clothes to choose from in my current condition, while I was staying with her I was never in want of them. She even had a few which would suit my stealthy purpose this evening, not that she would know anything about my middle of the night wanderings. No she would definitely disapprove. But she would fund my little outing anyway. I donned myself in a pair of black shorts, which were really far too small, but would have to do. Their waist was the most elastic of any dark article of clothing I could find, even if the leg portions (if you could call them that) were so short I felt my cheeks might hop right out. I thought that they would be perfect along with a pair of long knee-high black socks and black Reeboks. Up top I wore a white tank top over a bikini (my boobs were especially sensitive today and that was all they'd tolerate). I concealed these attention getting colors under a black zip-front hoodie. I had trouble zipping it up, but I was fortunate that it did eventually slide all the way down around my middle. There was a slight gap between my hooded sweatshirt and my shorts but I had grown familiar with it as there was little I could do about such things. Because the white tank top did not cover much of my stomach I could feel the cold metal of the zipper lying against my skin. I pulled the hood up over my bright whitish blonde hair and made my way out into the cool evening. All in all I thought I did a great job in the camouflage department. There was no moon and few stars, perfect for my espionage. I hoped the small orb of my face, the regrettable slice of belly and long thin stretch of thighs I left uncovered by dark covering might go unnoticed in such a dark evening. I did not plan on smearing mud all over myself like some jungle commando. Apparently I had snuck out without Molly becoming aware. Quietly I made my way through the woods between her house and my old residence, some 6 odd acres holding a meandering path. I grew startled by every sudden rustling or piercing bird cry. Finally I rounded an overgrown pathway and saw my target. How I longed to be sleeping upstairs in my empty old bedroom, which was dark as the night itself, or lay watching the Late Show downstairs, my mother hollering for me to turn down the volume. Nostalgia flooded my veins and I never more wanted to be rid of this awful body than I did right then. Tears welled up in my eyes. Most of the house's lights were off. I crept around the side and peered in every window I could find tentatively and silently. The family room was in disarray. Not ransacked or anything, just lived in with little attention toward cleaning. The dining room was the same way, plates partially eaten and never cleared, stacked high. A container of milk left open, probably spoiled. Things were still not well in the Garner household. Could you blame them? I made my way to the kitchen window and peered within. I immediately froze. There sat my parents at the kitchen table, my mother sobbing, my father holding her and looking straight out that lone window above the sink and into my eyes. Filled with a complex mixture of longing to be with them, sorrow for their pain, my own physical burden and personal exhaustion, not to mention horror that I might be spied out, I stared unblinking into my father's eyes hoping he hadn't seen me. After a full minute I thought the coast was clear. I blinked and slowly backed away. Yet I wasn't careful enough. My Father saw the movement and yelled, "Who's there!? Jack, is that you!? Jack!? Have you come home!!?"