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CLASS My wife touched her lips to mine and slipped her slender hand onto the back of my neck. "This is the most romantic thing James," she whispered, "You've excelled yourself. You excel yourself every time." I smiled and pretended to blush. "It's a pleasure for someone as beautiful as you." Theresa's smile broadened and she hugged me even closer, pressing her cheek to mine. I wished for a moment that she were a little more passionate but that thought disappeared very quickly. Theresa was everything I could have wished for in a wife: beautiful, elegant, and well spoken. She was highly educated and an excellent host. At the many business-related dinner parties I had to throw as part of my work, Theresa was witty and erudite, a sparkling hub to the proceedings. She stepped away from me and we turned back to the little table with its perfect white tablecloth and picnic spread. We took up our champagne glasses and chinked them. "To us darling," said Theresa, "and years more of this incredible romance." I winked at the caterers who stood back respectfully. I had called them that morning to set this up then drove Theresa up here as a mystery tour. Exactly as planned, the table, champagne and food had been provided as we drew up in my Mercedes into the cliff top car park. "I've never known anyone like you," said Theresa, "You're wonderful." I shrugged. "It was nothing." She linked her slender arm through mine. "You're perfect for me. Have you ever thought about that? We are perfect for one another." "In what way?" I asked, but I already knew the answer. Where she was beautiful and successful, I was handsome. And my vast wealth attested to my success like nothing else. We came from very similar well-to-do backgrounds and from the time we met at Cambridge, our lives had blossomed into a pair of miracles. "We're just perfect," she said, "That's all." We even looked perfect - I knew that - me in my tuxedo, Theresa in a long elegant gown, her shoulders and pale arms bare, a silk wrap hanging from her elbows. We stood watching the sun setting as the colours turned from blue to orange to red and then to yellow. *** As it started to get dark we were sitting on the bonnet of the Mercedes, both of us feeling tipsy and full of excellent food. Theresa rested her head on my shoulder, our fingers interlinked behind our backs. The caterers had long since quietly removed their things and slipped away. It was just the two of us in romantic peace a quiet. Then the sputter and growl of an engine broke the peace. Theresa and I broke off from our embrace and craned back to look. A small rusty van pulled into the car park, its suspension creaking as it went over the bumps. It lurched, wheezing, then span into place right next to my car. The engine barked one more time and then stopped. Then the door fell open and the racket of the dying engine was replaced by the racket of the people inside. A cloud of smoke plumed out of each door to the noise of coarse laughter, a woman's and a man's. The woman's laughter was high-pitched and too loud. Hih hih hih hih hih! The man's was a slanting uncouth ah ah ah ah ah! I could feel Theresa tense next to me. In this whole empty huge car park, they chose to park here next to us. "I'll ask them to move," I said, starting to slide off the bonnet, but Theresa gripped my arm. "No, don't. They might get funny with you and be obtuse. It's not worth it. We should just go." "No," I whispered back, "I don't see why they should drive us away. We were here first." The driver of the van climbed out on the side closest to us. He was bigger than me and it immediately made me reconsider my plan to demand they leave, even without Theresa's admonitions. He was very chubby with a big round belly and a think roll of fat hanging round his chin. The top of his head was bald, his remaining hair dark and greasy. He had a thick moustache but his big double chin was stubbly as well. He was wearing a set of oily overalls, central button open across his huge belly, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal hairy chubby forearms, each sporting a tattoo. He slammed the van door, making the entire thing shudder then walked round to the front of it. "Cam on!" he shouted, "It's getting' dark!" "Keep yer 'air on Tony," said the woman as she emerged from the other side, her voice nasal and whining. It made me want to close my ears. "I've gotta pull me knickers back on. I can't just zip up like you can ya know." She strutted after him, coming fully into view, her hand pulling through her dress at the knickers beneath to get them back into position. She glanced at us shamelessly and tutted, grinning at Theresa. "Men, eh? They dunno what it's like for us girlies, do they?" Beside me, Theresa was speechless, her face vacant with shock. The woman stumbled in her high heels as she made the transition from gravel to grass. There was about ten feet of rough ground at the foot of the car park followed by a wooden and wire fence and then the cliff. She was wearing a white sleeveless dress with the lowest U-cut in the front that I had ever seen and large red spots spread all over it. She was exceptionally full-figured, with large breasts and buttocks and a spare tire round her stomach. Her dress stopped half way down her thighs and her shapely but fleshy bare legs flashed beneath. Her hair was cut in a short bob, dangling hoop earrings clinking against the side of her slightly fleshy, tartily made-up face. "Cam on Tina, ya tart," said the man, "Anyone'd think you'd never 'ad an orgasm before." She tottered up behind him where he stood looking out to see and boomed, "I 'aven't 'ad one at fifty miles an hour before." Then she looked back at us and laughed. Hih hih hih hih hih! "Oh for God's sake," muttered Theresa under her breath, "That's disgusting." The couple quietened down, whispering to one another. Theresa and I tried to return to our romantic pose, looking out to sea, but the two classless louts remained in our field of vision, spoiling the mood. The man kept pawing his wife and she kept shrieking with laughter and pushing his hands away. "They're horrible," said Theresa. "I'm inclined to agree," I replied, but I couldn't take my eyes off the flashes of thigh the man kept revealing when he tried to grope under the woman's dress. Her high heels made her calf muscles stand out in the most alluring way. "We should move on," said Theresa, sighing, "They've ruined the mood and it's such a shame too. You made a lovely gesture." "Mmmm." I half nodded, staring at the woman's fleshy chest. She wasn't wearing a bra and every time the man pushed up against her, her cleavage pressed together even more, accentuating it. I'd love to shove my fat cock between those tits, I thought. Then I frowned. Wherever had that thought come from? I had no idea. I broke off my gaze at the vulgar couple, looking back at my wife. She looked irritable and... for a moment I thought... prudish. Her chest was a lot smaller than the woman's and neither one of us was interested in practising lewd acts like that. I had no idea what had possessed me to think it. Nevertheless, as we climbed off the car and I had a last look at the couple before I got in the driver's seat, I had to carefully manoeuvre the erection through my pocket to make sure that Theresa didn't see. *** "Would you mind pulling in here for a minute," asked Theresa, as we approached the slip road to a industrial shopping estate. "Sure." I dropped down a gear and signalled, cutting across the slow lane and sweeping into the car park. "Just pull over near Discount Clothes." I frowned. "Discount Clothes?" "Yes please." I did so, curious to see what Theresa had in mind. She normally hated those kind of shops, preferring only the most expensive end of the market to do her shopping. I'd have disapproved if I wasn't exactly the same. With the amount of money I pulled in, finding things to spend it on was sometimes a challenge. It seemed a waste to have too much of it gathering dust in the bank, so my wife and I had long ago decided to only ever purchase the best. That was why it was so odd to be pulling up here of all places. "Do you want to wait in the car?" asked Theresa, "I won't be long." "I suppose so. What are you planning to buy?" "I'll just be a minute," she said and climbed out. It was late dusk now. I watched Theresa make her way through the car park in the gloom, still wearing her evening gown. I had no idea what she had in mind. *** After twenty minutes I started to get very bored, realising I shouldn't have believed for a minute that she was really going to be quick. I started tapping on the dashboard and sighing. Time dripped past. The sky got darker. My mind started to wander. I thought about the slutty woman up on the cliff top, about her fleshy chest and her bare arms. I imagined grabbing those arms and kissing her chest, pushing my face into the soft pillowy skin, smelling her gaudy cheap perfume all over me. My hand crept down to my belt and unclasped the buckle. Then I slipped my hand inside my trousers and closed my eyes. In my imagination I continued to kiss the woman's breasts, moving up to her neck, her earring pressing against my nose. Her high pitched grating laughter. Hih hih hih hih hih! Then the passenger door opened and I whipped my hand out of my trousers, startled and hot. Theresa dumped two large bags into the footwell then climbed in, oblivious to what I'd been doing. "Sorry I took so long." She reached to do up her seat belt. I used the distraction to pull my jersey down over my undone belt. "What did you buy?" I tried to sound innocent though I felt guilty and caught out. It wasn't like me to have fantasies like that and it certainly wasn't like me to masturbate. I'd never had the need to and thought it was the refuge of lonely teenagers and dirty old men. "Er, just some things," she said, "Nothing special. A surprise." I was intrigued. One bag was from Discount Clothing. The other was from the shoe shop next door. Both looked full. "You have my undivided attention. When am I going to get a look?" "When we get home," said Theresa, uncharacteristically evasive. I put the car in gear and turned the ignition, seriously curious. *** We parked in the underground garage and took the lift up to the top floor. I offered to carry the bags but Theresa refused my help. She seemed very quiet and I worried that she'd seen what I was doing through the car window before she got back. My wife and I had a very conventional love life and I knew that she shared my disapproval of kinks of any kind. She wasn't the type to argue and shout at me but I didn't want to be getting the cold shoulder for days. Trying to warm her up, I said, "It was nice and romantic this evening, wasn't it?" "Until those people turned up," she replied curtly, turning away. I raised my eyebrows and shook my head. It looked like I had definitely done something to annoy her. I just hoped it wasn't what I thought it was. Once inside our huge apartment, Theresa walked through to the master bedroom. I sidled after her sheepishly, waiting for her to speak. She had always had a thing about not arguing in public, so now we were behind locked doors I was liable to finally hear what it was that had irked her. She put the bags down on our huge four poster bed and stood over them, her back to me. I leaned against the door frame. "Can I ask you something James?" said Theresa. "Sure." "It's something I have never asked you before," she said, "I'm a bit nervous." My stomach tensed. Here it comes, I thought. Theresa opened the first bag out onto the bed. Inside was a white dress covered in large red spots and what looked like a blue shirt wrapped in plastic. I stepped closer and saw that it was a set of overalls. Blue overalls. Then she opened the second bag to reveal two shoe boxes. She tipped them out onto the bed. One was a pair of white high heels. The other was a pair of black work boots. I couldn't believe it. "I was wondering if you might like to do a spot of dressing up," she said. I raised one eyebrow. I didn't know what to say. *** I was flabbergasted. Theresa had never suggested doing anything like this. I'd felt ashamed of myself that I had found the trampy woman on the cliff top sexy. Now, it seemed that beside me, my wife had been every bit as turned on herself by the man. It made me feel put out that she would find that fat vulgar oaf sexy until I realised I was just as guilty of roving eyes in this particular instance. "You want me to dress up like that man?" I said, "And you want to dress up and pretend to be that woman?" Theresa blushed darkly. "Uh huh." I looked her up and down. She was a beautiful elegant antelope of a woman in her evening gown. With her soft cultured voice and quiet eyes she was about as far from being that bimbo in the car park as... as I was from being the man - but nonetheless, I was tempted. I didn't know why. "I guess... yes. We could," I said. Theresa beamed. "Shall we get undressed?" She didn't wait for a response. She just started pulling at the zip down the centre of her back. "Give me a hand will you." I did so. By the time I'd climbed out of my tuxedo I was feeling very aroused. Over and over I kept thinking, this is so unlike us, but I couldn't deny that it was great fun and really exciting. Theresa reached for the spotty dress and pulled it over her head. Her movements were rushed and careless, unlike her normal practised grace. Her hair came loose from its tight bun and fell around her shoulders. She was grinning from ear to ear. "Hurry up with yours," she said. I picked up the overalls and slipped my legs into them. It was momentarily difficult to get them round my shoulders. I wasn't used to the movements. I don't think I'd ever worn a set in my life. They were several sizes too big round the middle and hung loose but they instantly gave me a feeling that I had become that man on the cliff top: Tony. I imagined what it would be like to be fat and bald and to have a thick moustache and to talk so badly and as I did so my penis swelled. Theresa had her dress on now. It was too big for her as well. It looked to be the same size as the woman from the car park. She slipped her feet into the high heels and I ran my eyes lustily from her ankles, up her smooth legs to her torso and chest and then to her face. I felt a shiver of disappointment when I got to her breasts and face that they weren't those of the woman from the cliff top but I was getting carried away now anyway. I really wanted her. I wanted her right now. "Put your boots on," she said. I sat down on the edge of the bed, chomping at the bit and strapped them on as Theresa slinked over to the wardrobe. As she passed in front of the mirror set into the door I saw a double image of her beautiful body, then she leaned against the frame and looked at me, her eyes misted with lust. "Come here." I got to my feet. "Come here and stick that cock of yours in me." I staggered across towards her, seeing my blurry reflection as I approached in my peripheral vision. I transformed it in my imagination into the image of Tony. Swelling fat belly, bald, pale forehead. Hairy arms and chest. Moustache. I grabbed Theresa's bare arms and pulled her roughly to my lips. She gasped, coming forward off-balance as I mauled her. "Come here you little slut," I said, swinging her round and pushing her toward the bed. Her eyes were lit up as I pushed her backwards at the foot of the bed so that her legs were down in front of me and only her torso was on the horizontal surface. She tried to get her hands free so that she could reach for my cock but I squeezed harder, pinning her arms to the side. Then I reached down myself and pulled it out. Theresa wriggled, totally absorbed in the moment. I thrust my face down against her chest and buried my face in the flesh there, closing my eyes. In my mind she was the slut from the cliff top with the huge tits. It was those huge tits that I was kissing. It was Tina. Not Theresa. Tina. "Oh Tony," she said, "Oh I like that. Oh yes you fat bastard. Give me a love bite. Yeah!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing but it fired me up even more. I was insatiable. I shoved my hand up her dress and pulled her knickers out of the way and then shoved my cock inside her. "Yes! Yes! Tony! Oh yes, you fat fucker! I like that. Yes!" I saw myself doing it to her, pumping in and out as though I were him. I imagined my balding head and thick moustache. I imagined my belly bloated, hanging over her. And I imagined her slutty make-up and chubby body, her huge tits and soft thighs. I wanted her. I wanted her so badly. "You tart," I gasped, "You fucking stupid whore." "Yes!" she screamed, "Oh yes Tony! Fuck me! That's it! Fuck me!" "You whore Tina!" I growled, my voice straining, "You fucking little whore!" I couldn't hold it anymore. I couldn't hold it. I knew I should slow down - make sure my wife got the pleasure she needed, but I didn't give a shit about that. I just wanted to have her now and I didn't care whether she liked it or not! I pumped harder, pushing deeper and then I exploded inside her, letting out a roar of passion and at the same time Theresa gave out a nasal high pitched scream. And then it was over. *** I rolled off Theresa and we both lay there panting, starting up at the ceiling. "That was amazing," said Theresa. "I know," I said, "I don't know what came over us." We remained quiet for a long time. My sweat cooled and started to dry. "What did come over us?" asked Theresa finally. "I don't know." "I've always hated people like those two we saw," she said, "so uncouth and vulgar. But for some reason..." She paused for several moments. "For some reason I got turned on thinking about being that slutty woman and being with that man." "I felt the same way about the woman. It's weird." "I'm sorry James," said Theresa, her voice quivering. "I feel just as guilty," I said, "We both wanted it." I was afraid to say what I wanted to say but did anyway. "And it was really good." Theresa looked at me with moist eyes. "I know," she said, "It was wonderful." *** In the morning I woke up late, surprised to see I was still wearing the blue overalls. My head was itching. Scratching didn't help to relieve it much. I sat on the edge of the bed feeling very tired and looked down at my stomach. It was bloated, pressing out against my overalls. My head was so cloudy from sleep or I would have cried out. As it was I just stared uselessly. I had never had anything remotely resembling a beer belly. My stomach had always been very trim, but now it hung on my thighs like a ball! I got up off the bed, stumbled over to the wardrobe mirror and gasped. Literally overnight I must have put on two or three stone! My stomach bulged, not just forwards but out to the sides as well. My arms were thicker, my legs stocky. My face was round, a loop of fat hanging from my chin! But that wasn't all! Impossible as that change was, there was something even more disturbing now I could see myself. There was a week or two's worth of stubble on my cheeks and double chin. That was startling enough since I had shaved only last evening. But I had a moustache! A thick moustache! I ran my fingers across it, feeling its shaggy density. It was a real moustache, really attached to my face! This was impossible! It was impossible! My thoughts went instantly to the man from the cliff top the night before. The same fat body and face, the same stubble and moustache. But it was still my face beneath the fat and I wasn't bald like he had been. I put my hand to my forehead then ran it up through my hair, gripping it to reassure myself and instantly wished I hadn't. As I pulled my hand away from my head a little shower of hairs fell down in front of my eyes and as my hand came into view I saw that there was a clump of dark hair caught between the fingers. I turned back to the bed and yelled "Theresa!" but that scared me even more because the voice that came out of me wasn't my normal voice. It was deeper and had a wheeze to it that had never been there before. "Theresa, wake up!" I ran over to the bed, my new bulky body turning my movement into an alarming shamble and grabbed at the covers, pulling them down. Then I let out another gasp. Because I saw Theresa. And I saw what she looked like. *** "What is it? What time is it?" She turned her head from the pillow, looking up at me with sleep filled drowsy eyes that cracked wide open with alarm when she saw me. She scrambled up onto her pillow, back against the headboard and screamed. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" "It's me," I said, "James." I reached toward her. She flinched. "I'm your husband." "I've never seen you before! Get out of here!" I shook my head. "Something's happened to us," I said, voice still husky and unrecognisable, "We've changed. I woke up like this - all fat and hairy." I held up my arms. There was thick curly hair covering my forearms. She peered at my face. "James?" "Yes. It's me! I swear it is!" "But it can't be. You look so different." I pointed at the mirror. "Look at yourself," I said. She looked at the mirror. Then at me. Then she looked down at her own body. She didn't scream but her mouth dropped open and her lips quivered as she lifted her arms up in front of her. She was still wearing the overlarge sleeveless dress from the night before but now it fit her! Her entire body had swelled, becoming voluptuous and full. Her arms and shoulders were soft and round instead of reed-like and slender. Her stomach bulged into a spare tyre rather than being perfectly flat. Her face wasn't fat but it was soft and round, a slight double chin around her neck. The transformation was incredible. It was still her face and her hairstyle but her body and bulk was in every way the image of Tina, the woman from last night. Theresa started to moan and then the moan became a stream of "no's" that merged into a long drawn out shuddering cry. She shook her head over and over again. I wanted to comfort her but I caught sight of my hairy forearms again and couldn't help turning back toward the mirror. I stared at my bloated body - at the stubbly double chin and moustache - then I looked at the patch of pale skin I could see in amongst my hair where I'd pulled out a chunk moments earlier. Slowly, irresistibly, I raised my hands to the rest of my hair and touched it. I gave a bunch of it a little exploratory tug - just a very simple soft pull - and the hair came away in my hands. I couldn't blink. I couldn't utter any real words beyond a gravelly moan but I also couldn't stop myself pulling at my hair. It came away in chunk after chunk, all my beautiful glossy hair falling away to reveal bald skin below. I tugged it more and more, become more and more desperate. It couldn't be true. This couldn't be happening! But it was. And within moments I stared back at my fat, bristly face, only short black hair in a crescent above my ears. The top of my head was completely bald! *** I was stunned. I just stared at myself. Minutes passed. Theresa's cries died away. Then I sensed movement to my left and in the mirror I saw Theresa's new chubby body come into view. I could tell that she was shell-shocked too. Neither one of us could understand or conceive of what had happened. I turned my eyes away from my own image and concentrated on hers. I looked at her hips and smooth shiny legs, at the pretty skin of her feet in the high heels she had slept through the night in. I looked at her pot belly and smooth, slightly chubby arms. And at her sensational cleavage, fully revealed in the low cut dress. I stared at the soft plump flesh of her breasts. And suddenly I realised that the fear I had, the panic, was gone. In my now tight overalls, my erection pressed up against my overhanging belly. And I thought... I'd love to shove my fat cock between those tits. My eyes flicked up to her face. It shocked me because she wasn't filled with fear anymore either. She was filled with lust. Raw, animal lust. She wanted me. She had fantasised about being with a fat balding hairy man in overalls with a thick moustache and here he was standing in front of her. Here I was in front of her. And she... She was the complete opposite physically to how she was before. There was nothing slender and elegant about her now. She looked like a real slapper - a real bimbo - and I wanted her more than I'd ever wanted anything. I grabbed her and pushed her against the wall, shoving my face into her chest and kissing her neck. She cried out, "Yes! Oh yes!" her hands desperately stroking my arms and shoulders and my bald head. I wanted her so badly and the bald head and fat belly pressing against her, the moustache I could feel as my lips touched her, pressing against her soft fleshy tits turned me on all the more. I pulled the straps of her dress down off her shoulders and kissed the round creamy white skin. I tugged them down even further, pinning her arms by her sides and revealing her boobs. Then I took the nipples in my mouth and bit them. She screamed out, half in pain and half in pleasure. "Oh yeah!" she cried, "Oh yeah! I like that you fat bastard! I like that!" I chewed her soft skin, loving it; loving the feel of her new plump tits. Then I pulled her dress all the way down and manoeuvred her round to the bed. Her eyes were on fire as she fell back on the covers, knees pointing up, legs spread, high heels still on. I grabbed her calves, feeling the smooth soft skin. I was so fired up. I loved this new body of hers. God help me I suddenly hated her old slim body. I wanted this. I wanted her to stay like this from now on. She pulled at my overalls, popping the press studs and pulling my shoulders free. I glanced down as she revealed my hairy chest. It had been hairless before. Now it was a tangled mat of thick black fur. Theresa's eyes widened but a grin formed on her lips. "You're so sexy," she gasped. "Come here you big sexy man!" She pulled me closer to her. I got onto the bed, grabbing her smooth knees. She scrambled up so that she was on her knees in front of me then she pulled my overalls down around my new fat hairy arse. My cock sprang up out of the fabric. It was huge - a couple of inches longer than it had been and wider. Theresa gasped when she saw and her grin widened. "Oh look James," she said, "You're a real man now. You're so masculine." I took her head in my hands and started to guide her down to it. She resisted, pulling up, not wanting to. We locked eyes. Her gaze flicked down to my cock. "Call me Tony," I whispered. Theresa smiled. "Tony," she breathed. "My big man Tony." My cock ached to have her lips round it. "And you call me Tina," she said, her eyebrows crinkling - nervous. "Tina," I whispered, "My chubby little whore." Her eyes flashed again and then she let herself be guided down to my waiting cock. It felt so good. I moaned loudly, "Oh yes, you fat little slag." I could see our reflection in the mirror and it turned me on even more: a fat bald man with a moustache. A chubby woman with huge tits hanging from her chest, leaning forward to suck his cock. It was too good. I was going to cum too soon. I moaned, pulling her off it and pushed her away from me, turning her round so that her fat arse was facing me. "Oh no," she moaned. "James, it's too much. You know I don't like it from behind." I slapped one of her bum cheeks hard. The peach-soft flesh rippled. Then I climbed over her, my fat belly resting on her bum. I grabbed her hair, pulling it slightly so that she felt a little stab of pain - not much, but enough to show her I meant business. "My name's Tony," I said, "And you'll do it any way I fuckin' say so you daft bitch. You're my wife and you'll do what I say if you know what's good for you, all right?" I grabbed her tit and ran my other hand down the soft skin of her arm. "Besides," I whispered, "You're going to love it. I promise you." She whimpered. "Yes Tony. Sorry." I manoeuvred my dick up against her cunt, feeling her shiver. Then I thrust inside, not caring that she was a little dry now. I forced my way in, grabbing her love handles and needing her arse as I pumped. She was on her hands and knees, her entire body shuddering with each pump and as it went on I heard her start to moan in pleasure too. I looked at us again in the mirror. I saw my hairy belly resting on her fat arse. I saw my thick arms and hairy hands playing with her pendulous tits. "Oh yes, Tony! That feels so good!" I pumped harder. You're nothing but a cheap slut," I said, "Nothing but my chubby little whore!" "Yes!" she cried, "Yes I am! Fuck me harder," she screamed, "Fuck my like I'm your whore!" Then suddenly I was cumming; my whole body shuddering, all movement taken over by the mindless animal part of me, punching my cock over and over again into her until I was completely spent. *** I lay back against the headboard. Theresa sat on the edge of the bed, her head lowered. "What's happened to us?" he said. "How the fuck should I know?" She looked at me. "Why you talkin' like that?" "Speak for yourself," I said. She touched her neck. "Does my voice sound diff'rent?" She paused. "Fuck me, it does!" Her voice was higher in pitch than it had been, a very nasal sound that came across at once as whiny and irritating as well as very common and working class. "What's 'appened to us?" "We've turned inta that couple we saw at the cliff top is wot," I said, walking over to the mirror and gasped. "Shit me. We've changed even more than before." She came and stood next to me. It was true. There was no sign in my face anymore of who I had been. I looked exactly like the man from the cliff top car park. Theresa touched her hair, marvelling at it. She hadn't had it cut but most of the length had vanished sometime while we were having sex. It was cut straight in a bob just below her ears now, a fringe hanging just level with her eyebrows. And her face - her face was Tina's face. It wasn't hers anymore at all. Her eyes were slightly closer together, the lids thicker. Her nose wasn't turned up anymore like it had always been. It was straighter and a bit bigger. Her lips were fuller too. She wasn't who she was at all but she was still very sexy. Part of me thought she was a lot sexier than she was before but I felt immediately guilty for thinking that. She looked at herself. "I'm not me anymore," she said, "I'm 'er. I'm Tina." Tears formed in the sides of her eyes. "Theresa..." I touched her arm. "I'm not Theresa anymore," she snapped. "Look at me! I was beautiful and thin! Now I'm fat and ugly!" "You're not fat." "I am!" "You're full-figured and voluptuous. And you certainly aren't ugly." "Look at me!" she screamed. "Just fuckin' look at me! And listen to the way I talk now! I sound like some uneducated fuckin' slapper! I am a slapper! You saw how we were acting. We don't just look like those people. We're acting like them too!" I turned my back on her. She was right of course. There was absolutely no denying that. "Theresa, we have to-" "Stop callin' me that! I'm Tina now! I don't want my name to be linked with this flabby body! I don't want you to call me that until we change back!" "For fuck's sake!" I stormed through to the bathroom. What a stupid slut! What kind of stupid logic was that supposed to be? I leant on my fists against the edges of the sink, glaring at my reflection. Of course it wasn't my reflection anymore. It was his. Bushy eyebrows. Piggy eyes. Big wide nose. I went back through and opened the wardrobe. Tina was on the bed, feeling her boobs. "Put some clothes on for fuck sake," I snapped. I grabbed a pair of slacks and one of my Armani shirts. The last thing I wanted to wear was that set of overalls. I didn't know what had caused this transformation to occur but dressing like him and acting like him must have been a factor. I pulled the jeans up my legs and got as far as my thighs. They wouldn't go any further. I grunted and wheezed, pulling harder and managed to get them up round my arse after several minutes of effort, but there was no way in hell I was going to get the zip done up or the button. I gave up and kicked them off in a rage. It wasn't even worth trying the shirt but I held it up to my chest. It looked like a teenager's shirt next to my new manly body. Tina gazed mournfully at her own clothes. She was taller and broader now. She too wasn't going to be able to fit in them. We both turned sourly back to the bed and the clothes we had bought the night before. Tina walked around to her side of the bed and picked up the large knickers and started putting them on and I grabbed the overalls. They had been left inside out from when we fucked. I reached my hairy arm down into the leg and pulled them the other way out. "No way," I said. "No fuckin' way!" "What is it?" "Look at these," I said, holding them up for her. "Just look!" "What is it?" "They're covered in oil is fuckin' what," I bellowed, "Look! Old fuckin' oil!" I pushed them at her and she recoiled. "They were brand new yesterday! Now they look like I've been fixin' cars in them for years!" I shook them at her and then looked down as something black and square dropped out of one of the pockets. It landed on the floor between us. I knelt down with a wheeze to pick it up. "What is it?" asked Tina, and reaching for her dress. "It's a wallet." I turned it over in my hand. It was old and battered, the leather cracked and worn. A single clasp with a press-stud held it closed. I undid it and flipped it open in my palm. It was his. There were a couple of old five-pound notes and a twenty shoved into one of the slots next to a credit card. A zip-up pocket was filled with heavy change. In a plastic window was a picture of him and her, Tony and Tina. He was wearing a vest. She was wearing a bikini. Her hair was tied up in a bunch on top of her head. They were both laughing. Tina was pitching forward, her plump cleavage fully revealed. My cock stirred just looking at it. In a slot toward the back was a badly creased photo driving licence with a picture of the face I now had and a full name and address. Tony Miller. The address was somewhere down in Barton, on the other side of town. I recognised the road name. It was part of a council estate. "It's his," I said. "Tony Miller." I looked at her. She had pulled the dress on over her head and was just straightening it over her pot- belly. "That would make you Tina Miller." "Fuck me Tony," she said, "Wot's goin' on 'ere?" "Don't call me that!" I snapped. I threw the wallet down on the bed. "Well pardon me for breathin'," she said, her voice rising in pitch, "but you don't look much like a bleedin' investment banker now do ya?" I folded my arms. "Why are you being such a stoopid bitch? There ain't no way we're gonna be stuck like this, an' I'm not lettin' you call me that, all right?" "I'll call you what I want," she snapped, her irritating nasal voice clipped and sharp, her fists on her hips. "I'm your bloody wife ain't I? It's my right!" I grabbed her by the hair, pulled her forward and shoved my stubby finger in her face. "I told you to do what I fuckin' say. I fuckin' warned you!" "No! Please!" "Stop whining you daft cunt!" I snapped, "I'm not gonna hit ya!" I threw her onto the bed. "I didn't mean no harm," she whined, "I just thought it was better to call you that till we swapped back." "Well it's not!" I snatched up the overalls and struggled into them. Now I was so fat it was hard to get them up round my shoulders. The oil was ground into the fabric. It was never coming out. It stunk of it and of bad B.O. and cheap aftershave. I picked up the boots that she had bought the night before and pulled them roughly onto my feet. "What are you doing?" asked Tina. "We're going out," I growled. "Out? Where?" Tina looked stricken. I picked up the wallet and shoved it in my pocket. "We're going to find those two bastards we saw on the cliff top and find out how they did this to us and then we're going to threaten to break their faces if they don't fuckin' turn us back!" Tina got to her feet fearfully. "We can't go out like this. What if people see us?" I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. Now that my face had changed I looked exactly like Tony Miller. It was as though I were looking through a window at him rather than into a mirror. "Then they'll see us," I said sullenly, "so fuckin' wot. They'll see us as we are now." "But they'll know it's us. They'll laugh at us!" I prodded her in the chest. "Don't be such a dunce! What the fuck's 'appened to your brain you daft bitch? You're actin' like your thick or somethin'." "I'm sorry Tony." "James, you stupid cunt! My name is James!" She cowered. "I'm sorry! James!" "No one's gonna laugh at us cause they'll just think we're who we look like - a fuckin' car mechanic or somethin' and his slutty wife." She started crying again. "I don't wanna go out." "Well you're comin'." I grabbed her arm. "Put yer shoes on and stop sniffling or I'll fuckin' lamp ya!" She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. For a moment I had a mental image of Theresa as she was all her life. Such a gesture would never have occurred then. She would have dabbed at her nose with a silk handkerchief. Shit, what was happening to us? I grabbed my keys off the hall table and pulled her forcefully out the door, slamming it after me. "Wait," said Tina, "I want to get my coat. Anything to cover up this cleavage." "Oh, for Christ's sake!" "Please. I just want to cover up." "Okay!" I snapped and shoved the key back in the lock. Behind me I heard the lift door ding open. "Something's wrong with it," I said, frowning. "Wot?" "Fuckin' thing's jammed," I said, "It won't open." I tried again but the key wouldn't turn in the lock. "Excuse me sir." I turned. Reggie, the building security guard was standing a few feet away. He was dressed in the same uniform as always but the normally sedately polite expression was absent. "Can I ask what you think you are doing?" I looked at the lock and at Tina's dull-witted face. Then I looked down at my clothes and back to Reggie. I knew what this looked like and I had absolutely no way of explaining myself. He was never going to believe the truth. "I'm er... I'm just visiting a friend." Reggie's expression remained closed and sceptical. Tina tugged at my arm. "Tony, let's get out of 'ere." "Would you mind stepping away from the door please," said Reggie. I pulled the keys out and did so. "I know 'im," I said. "He's a frienda mine." Reggie stepped forward. "Then you wouldn't mind if I call the police and you can explain that to them." I dropped the keys in my pocket. Then I smashed my fist into Reggie's face. Tina screamed. "Scarper!" I shouted. I grabbed her arm and dragged her to the lift. Reggie was on the floor, gripping his face. The lift closed before he could get up. My pulse was hammering. Tina was blubbing. "What did you do? What did you do? You hit him! James, you've never hit anyone in your whole life!" Then she just stared at me because I started laughing. I started laughing and I couldn't stop. A deep slanting uncouth ah ah ah ah ah! That came up from my chest and bellowed out, shaking my enormous belly. *** By the time we ran out into the underground car park we were both laughing. Tina's laugh was high pitched and too loud. It came out in a nasal hih hih hih hih hih! She ran after me towards our reserved parking space, tottering in her high heels as I lumbered in my big black boots. It had felt so great to lamp that fucker in the face. He deserved it for pissing me off and it was like nothing I'd ever felt to really lay someone out like that. I'd never been a violent man but I was starting to think that the person I'd been before was a bit of a fucking wimp. When I got back to being myself I was going to be a lot more manly - not so much like a fucking poof, prancing about in expensive suits and going to the opera. I wasn't so keen on going bald but I liked my moustache. When I got back to normal I was going to grow one just the same. Maybe get a couple of tattoos as well. When we got to our parking space I stopped short. Tina came up behind me and gasped. The Mercedes was gone! And in it's place was the exact same van we'd seen the Miller's get out of at the cliff top! *** "This ain't possible," I said, slapping my bald head, "This ain't fuckin' possible!" "What ain't?" asked Tina. I glared at her. "You really have lost the plot 'aven't you? You really did become stupid!" I pointed. "The car! The fuckin' car's gone and that piece of junk's been left in its place!" I looked back toward the lift. "Shit, we're going to have to use it anyway or that bastard's going to have the pigs here. Last thing we fuckin' need is to get arrested now, lookin' like this." I pulled the door handle. It was locked. "Jesus Christ," said Tina, voice rising in pitch again, becoming even more nasal, "what are we goin' ta do?" I got my bunch of keys out. Hand shaking, I put the car key into the lock. I felt sick to my stomach when it turned and the lock disengaged. But we had to get in. We had to get out of there. "Come on!" It stank inside. There was dirt and dust everywhere. Empty beer cans and rubbish in both foot wells. The ash tray was open and overloaded with cigarette butts. A pack of cigarette's lay in the cavity on the passenger side of the dashboard. In the back of the van were assorted oily or rusty car parts, strewn all over amongst the rubbish. Tina got in the other side and turned her nose up, daintily flicking what rubbish there was onto the floor. "Hurry the fuck up!" I snapped. "Just get your fat arse in here, you daft cow!" She climbed in. I gunned the engine and we blasted out the doors, the engine growling and backfiring, clouds of black exhaust spewing up behind us. *** "Give me one of those fags," I said, pointing to the cigarettes on the dashboard. "But you don't smoke," said Tina. "Look," I said, losing my rag again, "As you keep telling me, I'm Tony Miller until I get my own body back. Tony Miller smokes. Now give me a fuckin' fag cause I fuckin' want one!" "All right." She reached for them. "Why don't you light it up for me and have one yourself." I came up to a junction. There was a lot of traffic and the car on the side road was hoping I'd stop to let him out. I accelerated. I knew I would normally stop but I suddenly couldn't see why I should slow down just so some fucker could push in front of me. Let him wait! Tina handed me a lit cigarette. I glanced across at her. "Thanks luv." It felt great to have a strong inhale. It felt as though it were an old habit. There wasn't a trace of a cough as the smoke filled my lungs and it immediately relieved a lot of the tension I was feeling. She had a cigarette of her own in her mouth and God did she look hot. It wasn't Theresa anymore in any way. She was completely Tina now, from her vacant expression to her mannerisms, the way she moved her hands. Her huge tits. Her sexy unsophisticated looks. My cock swelled inside my overalls. I realised I didn't want her to be Theresa. Why would I want some tight-assed frumpy frigid stuck-up bitch when I could have this sexy bit of fluff? No, I didn't want Theresa. I wanted Tina. I wanted her. I still hadn't got my tit-fuck yet and I wanted it real bad now. If there was any way I could work it that she stay like that when we changed back then I was going to do it. *** Barton was the seediest district in town. It was full of drug addicts, unemployed losers and council houses. We made it a rule to stay away from there normally. Now though, we fitted right in. I drove round until I found the end of the road I was looking for. Their house was number seventy eight. I tried to get Tina to help me spot it while I drove but she kept asking me to remind her of the number so I got pissed off and just slowed down to look myself. She had been highly academic before this started. Now though, it was like she was a bimbo. No brain at all. She was finding it hard to remember things and hard to think clearly enough to make any kind of decent suggestions. "Oh my God!" she screeched suddenly, "Look!" She held out her left hand, palm down, in front of me. "I'm trying to drive," I snarled. "Pipe down." "My wedding ring! Look at it! It's changed!" I slowed the car down and glanced across. It was true. It wasn't even a diamond anymore. It was a dull green stone with what looked like a sliver band. "Tony baby," she said, "We have to change us back real soon or it's gonna be too late." I pulled in to the side of the road. "Shut up," I said, "We're here." We got out. The van's engine carried on rattling for a few moments then shuddered to a stop. The buildings were narrow terraced council houses. The tiny gardens were littered with rubbish, half bald grass and mud. There was an engine block on the path to seventy eight and an old car with no wheels that had totally gone to seed on what was left of the lawn. A fat woman was sitting on the step to the house next door smoking a cigarette, a baby in nappies balanced on her knee. "Mornin' Tony," she said, "Hiya Teen." I stared at her for a moment, then said, "Hi." Tina said "Hiya." behind me. It was profoundly disturbing somehow being recognise looking like this. It made it clearer than ever that unless we did something to change, we were going to stay like this and no one would ever see us as our old selves again. To everyone else in the world - even to each other - we would be Tony and Tina Miller. I got the keys out of my overall pocket and worked my way round the ring to the one I had tried in the door to our apartment. It fit in the slot. And it turned. Again I got a sick feeling in my stomach that magic was at work here that was distorting every aspect of our lives. We were assimilating every habit and belonging of those vulgar people as though they were our own. The door opened. Tina and I walked fearfully inside. The hall was dingy and bare. Damp-stains climbed the walls on both sides. The carpet was threadbare. A section of it was folded up carelessly to reveal damp boards underneath. There was no sound coming from anywhere. "Is this their house?" asked Tina. I didn't bother to even respond to that. "Hello!" No answer. We continued to walk through. The lounge was the first door on the right. There was an old TV with sellotape holding the on button in. It was unplugged from the wall. A dead plant was on top of it. There were numerous dirty pots on the wide coffee table on top of old copies of football magazines and cheap women's magazines. Cigarette butts spilled out of several ashtrays on the table, on the arms of the sofa and on the floor. There was a half full pack of fags. The kitchen was empty too. More full ashtrays. Sink full of dirty pots. No sign of anybody. "What are we going to do now?" said Tina. I shrugged. "Fucked if I know." We wandered back through to the lounge and plonked ourselves down on the scrappy sofa. "I guess we'll have to wait for them." I wasn't sure what that meant - where the original couple had gone, or when they might return. It seemed terrifying to be in that place by ourselves. It felt like a trap, poised, ready to snap closed. To any outsider, we were Tony and Tina Miller, sitting in our home, in our lounge, enjoying a relaxing morning. To an outsider, we were here in our natural habitat. The thought of remaining here permanently made me shudder - of giving up all our wealth and dwelling amid this squalor, not caring as the Miller's obviously didn't, to be surrounded by such filth and clutter. I had always hated soccer, thinking from a very early age that it was a vulgar sport for working class idiots but one of the magazines on the coffee table caught my eye. I picked it up and started thumbing through it. Tina picked up a copy of Woman's Own. "Why don't you go and see if they've got any beers in the fridge," I said, "I'm thirsty." "Awwww, do I have to?" whined Tina. "Unless you wanna feel the back of my hand, yes," I snapped. I lit another cigarette from a pack on the coffee table as she got up, then carried on reading my magazine. It was really interesting and I started to wonder if there was a match on TV as Tina came back in with my beer. "Stick the box on willya," I said, "We might as well watch something while we're waiting." "Okay sweetie," she said brainlessly. I shook my head and smiled. Fuckin' stupid cow. Then I had a good look as she got down on her knees next to the plug socket. She had her bum in the air and her sexy smooth legs looked gorgeous in those heels. I pictured her on the bed back home, naked, as I took her from behind and the monster started to stir again. The TV came to life and my eyes flicked back to it. Before the picture even faded into view I could hear the soccer crowds roaring. "This is more like it," I said, leaning back, cracking open my beer and grinning. I took a long swig then had another puff of my cigarette. This was the life. Tina got back to her feet and tottered round to my side of the set. "Aw, football?" she whined nasally, "I hate football. Do we have to watch this?" "Shit down and shut up. Read your magazine and leave me in peace." *** The game ended after an hour. I really got into it, getting up and roaring when Man U scored the winning goal. It was fucking great. I felt fantastic. I should have got into footie years ago. Course instead I was wasting my time prancing around like some nancy-boy watching plays and sipping wine. What a fucking twat. "Honey?" "Wot?" Tina sat forward, exposing her cleavage. "What if they never come back? What if they're at our flat right now living our lives?" I fingered my moustache. That was right. What if they were? "How could we make them change back?" she said, "We couldn't. We wouldn't even be able to get back into the building without security calling the police. Look at me. I look just like her now. I talk like her. I'm even getting stoopid, you know, like her." I folded my arms then unfolded them. "But James?" "Wot?" "Can I tell you something?" "Yeah. Wot?" She cringed. "I feel bad even thinkin' it, let alone sayin' it out loud." I tried to focus on what she was saying rather than on her tits and her sexy knees. "I think I... I think I like this... being like this; more than..." "Wot are you saying?" I asked, stepping closer. No longer able to resist touching her legs, I kneeled down in front of her and stroked her knees. She looked down guiltily. "I like my body better now," she said, "I like having these big tits and seein' the way you look at me all the time - like you wanna fuck me and not give a damn who sees or where we are. And I like not giving a shit what people think of me - if I talk bad or not. Just saying what I please." She put her hand on the top of my bald head. "And I think you're a lot sexier like this. I even like it when you're nasty to me. It makes me feel all feminine and looked after in a weird kind of way, like you're really a man now, not a wuss like you were before. After seeing you like this - feeling like this - how could I ever find you sexy lookin' like you used to? Bein' so stuck-up and airy fairy like you used to? " My cock was bursting to get free. I tried hard to resist not burying my head in her tits. "You must hate me for saying that," she said. I shook my head. I couldn't hate her for voicing exactly what I was thinking too. "I'm not sayin' it has to be totally permanent. I'm not sayin' we should give up all our money and stuff. But... What if we stayed here... just for a bit," she said, "and lived these lives. Not forever. Just for a bit." I nodded, whispering, "Just for a day or two. Yeah. We might never get another chance like this. Just stay here and pretend we really are Tony and Tina. Yeah." Tina nodded, hopeful. I stared at her then I looked round the room at the state of the place, the smoke-stained paintwork, the mottled net curtains. I knew it was wrong. I knew it was a terrible mistake to think these things, to want to live like this - I knew our minds were being affected by the magic or whatever it was - but I knew that I didn't give a fuck neither. I wanted to be Tony Miller and I sure as fuck wanted to be married to this little chubby slut Tina. Why the hell would I want a jumped up little skinny thing when I could have this big woman in front of me. And why the fuck would I want to be a fucking little stuck-up runt when I could be a real man? Just stay here. Just live this life. That's all we had to do. Go to work as a car mechanic at Tony's job in the morning. Go out drinking every night in the local at the end of the road. Be Tony and Tina Miller... for the rest of our lives. I knew I wasn't thinking straight. I knew it was a mistake. At some deep, psychic level, it felt like if I said yes now then the exchange would somehow become permanent, that we would be trapped in these lives forever. But I didn't care. I did want to be Tony Miller. I was Tony Miller. Bald. Fat. Hairy. A car mechanic rather than an investment banker. A forty a day smoker, into football and sex and beer. And my wife was Tina Miller. A chubby tart who threw her sexuality out at the world in every direction. A stupid dozy cow who had dropped out of school with no qualifications and no nothing. I didn't care. I didn't care about nothing. Not about losing everything I had before or gaining the things that I had now. I didn't care. All I cared about was shoving my cock between those massive tits and cumming all over my wife's face. All I wanted was a tit fuck with my chubby slapper of a wife, some more beers and maybe another shag later after we'd watched TV for a bit. I leant closer to do it. Tina's eyes quivered with delight and expectation. I slipped the straps of her dress off her creamy shoulders. I lowered my lips until they hung less than an inch above her tender boobs. This is me now, I thought, this is who I am. Then I threw my head back and pushed away from her. "No!" Tina cried out. I got up and charged across the room, turning away from her, my hands up on my face. "No!" "What is it Tony? What's wrong?" I glared back at her. "What's wrong? What's wrong!?" She stared back at me, uncomprehending. "Look at us," I said, gesturing down at my massive stocky body and oily overalls. "Look at who we've become! This ain't right! We don't belong 'ere! Whatever did this to us... It's poisonin' our minds - making us feel like we really are these people - making us wanna be! We have to stop! Just fuckin' stop!" "But Tony," she whined, "I do wanna be me like this. I wanna be sexy and loose. I don't wanna be stuck-up and frigid." "No!" I bellowed, "No! That ain't you talkin'! Just think for a minute. We 'ad perfect lives before. Fuckin' perfect! We was rich and good lookin'. We had a fuckin' bootiful apartment. Amazin' jobs..." I gestured round the room. "We don't want this - this squalor. We don't want to be these fat fuckin' losers!" "But Tony!" Tina started sobbing. "I've been fantasisin' about bein' with a bloke like you are now for ages. An' I've wanted to put on weight and risk bein' fat to be more voluptuous an' sexy. I just didn't 'ave the balls before." Her tears intensified. "I just want you to fuck me so bad right now Tony. And I know you want me just like I want you. I saw you havin' a wank in the car last night when I came outta the shop. You was thinkin' about her from the cliff top, weren't you?" I didn't want to answer but I mumbled, "Yes." "Weren't you?" "Yes!" "Do you still love me?" I lowered my head. "Tony? Do you?" I looked back up at her. She looked more gorgeous than any woman I'd ever laid eyes on. From her creamy shoulders and vamp face, down past her huge knockers, to her beautiful smooth shapely legs. "Christ," I whispered, "Course I do. But that's the fuckin' problem Tina. The way you look now - the way you talk even. That's what's scarin' me. I love you more than I ever fuckin' have. I wanna shag you all the time. That's fuckin' obvious. But more'n that: I've got all these new feelin's in my 'ead about ya. Like I wanna protect you and like I wanna go out to work so you don't haveta. An' I feel these urges when I think of stuff - like these jets of rage. Like I think of some bastard lookin' at ya when we're out together - some wanker slidin' his eyes up an' down your body and it makes me want to... Shit Tina, it makes me want to fuckin' smash that cunt's face in. Just thinkin' about it gets all my blood goin'; get's my muscles pumpin'. I'd wanna get that fucker and kick 'im in the balls." I looked at her with tears in my eyes. "An' I've never felt like that about anyone, not never before." Tina hugged her arms across her chest. "Let's stay like this Tony," she said, "Let's just stay here and be Tina. Be Tony." I shook my head. "I can't just walk away from-" "Then call!" she snapped, "Call our apartment! See if they're there! They must be! But do it without my blessin'." I sighed. "Don't you see I have to?" "I don't see nothin'." "The longer we stay here in this scummy little house, the more we're gonna lose ourselves in these lives. What if we forget who we're supposed to be? What then?" "Then we'll be happy fuckin' each other's brains out for the rest of our lives!" "I don't want to be a car mechanic!" "Well look in the fuckin' mirror you fat bastard!" she screeched, "Cause you are one!" *** I turned my back on her and found the phone. I dialled our number angrily, misdialling once and having to cancel. It started to ring at the other end and in the phased out limbo of waiting my mind immediately wandered back to the harsh words to my wife and I felt a shuddering wave of guilt. I was angry with her because I was angry with myself. I knew that but I was too big a cunt to tell her that. I was angry with myself because I wanted exactly what she did. If anything I wanted it more if that was possible. There was a battle going on inside of me because I wanted this so bad but I was terrified that if I gave in to my urges I might regret it for the rest of my sordid tawdry days. But it was getting harder to visualise exactly what I would be losing, to remember what was so great about it. All I remembered was being some jumped up little wimp barely out of puberty, thinking I was better than everyone else. I was a man now. A real man. I felt so strong and masculine. I felt like it was me looking after my wife, not my money. And I felt like I didn't really need the money as long as I had her. The phone was still ringing. No one picked up. I dumped it back down into its cradle and sighed. What the fuck was I going to do? We didn't know the first thing about how this had happened. We didn't even know where our counterparts were. How could we ever change back? *** I paused in the lounge doorway. Tina was leaning back on the sofa, thumbing through a copy of a celebrity gossip magazine, her legs crossed. "They aren't there," I said. She looked up at me, worried. I scratched the top of my bald head then smoothed my moustache thoughtfully. "We can't go back there. We might end up gettin' arrested by the pigs. And we don't 'ave the money to stay at a hotel that's any better than this place. Until we get through to them or find them... we're going to have to stay here." Tina's eyes lit up but she restrained herself from speaking. "We're gonna have to just wait," I said. "And it could be hours. Could be even days. If ever. I don't know what even fuckin' made this 'appen." Tina pulled the strap off one of her shoulders. "Then let's just pretend this is really our house... Tony. Just for a while. Let's pretend we really are these people. Please." My eyes went down to her gorgeous legs. I was tired of this. I was tired of fighting something that my whole being wanted more than anything. So I let myself grin and popped open the press studs at the front of my overalls. The I started walking toward my sexy wife. *** The water in the shower was so hard it stung my shoulders, but it felt good all the same. I poured some shampoo into my palm and spread it over my head, only second thinking that I was bald now. It felt odd to be running the lather over bare skin but good as well. It was hard to vocalise but so much about our present situation seemed right. I smoothed it into what little hair I had, then rinsed it out and cut the stream of water. There was a heated towel rail next to the shower cubicle. I pulled the large one off and wrapped it round my waist. The other towel on the rail dropped off onto the wet floor. I went to pick it up like I would normally have done but stopped mid-motion. I didn't see why I should be doing fucking women's work when Tina wasn't even fucking working. That was her job. I brought the money in. She was the slave. I left it where it was and walked over to the sink. Long-dripping taps had left brown stains on the porcelain. The mirror was steamed up. I reached over with my fist to wipe it clear and paused. There was a tattoo of a dragon on my hairy forearm that hadn't been there before. It was an old one, the ink long-since faded to green. I turned my outstretched arm, flexing my tendons so I could see it clearly. I liked it. I remembered the night when I was eighteen me and the lads went and got it done after work. It was a right laugh watching that pansy twat Keith getting woosy when he saw all the blood. I remembered me mam balling me out when I got home after cause of it and the wink me dad gave me. As if to say, "That's right son. You're a man now." I wiped my eye then continued to clear the mirror. Then I thought to myself: Wait a minute. That never happened. I never got a tattoo. And my father would never have approved in a million years. But I remembered it. I remembered it clearly. I remembered the names of every kid I was with that night. I remembered when I got my other tattoo done six months later, the girl in the bikini on my other forearm. I remembered the bird I was with at the time. It didn't look like her but it was close enough to buy me a shag. She thought it was romantic. I just wanted a picture of a sexy bint on my arm. I never even seen her again after that night. I remembered what I was wearing, where I was working at the time. Where I was working now - the garage at the end of the road. I remembered my boss, my co-workers, Sally, the receptionist who was a sexy little tramp. I remembered- Fuck. I remembered everything. The mirror started to clear of steam by itself. My naked upper body came into view. Huge sagging belly. Stocky but muscular arms. Thick covering of curly black hair across my chest, down my stomach, on my arms and across my shoulders. Bristly double chin. Bald head. Thick moustache. I tapped a fag out of the pack I'd brought up with me, stuck it in the side of my mouth then lit it, cupping my hand round the flame from habit as much as anything. Then I blew out toward the glass, the smoke hitting the mirror and spreading out in an inverted fan. I shouldn't be able to remember anything from my-from Tony Miller's past. I weren't there. I sure as shit shouldn't be cupping my hands round a lighter flame out of habit. I'd not smoked a fag even once before this started. I stared in