Jacki Comes Through
- 3 years ago
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Jack Be Nimble free porn video
Generally speaking, I don't much care for stories that begin with a
preamble by the author. Worst are the disclaimers that try to be too
cute for their own good. Notice that it won't stop me though...
This is my first work of fiction (not required by a class I was
taking). I've done some writing, but I don't get paid for it ? and I'm
not likely to... but you may know that by now. I only ask that if you
have something not nice to say... you say it all in a big fat stinker
of a review. I may never post here again, but hopefully it will be a
learning experience.
Jack be nimble?
By Myself
He was at work enjoying a minute of loafing when he first decided to
quit biting his nails.
Jack was a low ambition kind of guy, doing the kind of work low
ambition and average skills will fetch. It was honest work for average
pay - but not terribly exciting. That's why Jack was staring out his
office window that day, thinking about his spate of illness over the
last few months. Like many people with slightly above average
intelligence and an overly developed sense of curiosity, Jack was
thinking about how he could avoid such infirmities in the future. Like
many avid readers with active imaginations and a nasty case of
hypochondria, Jack had read an unhealthy share of health related
articles on the Internet. One such article had been prescient, if not a
little obvious. It had linked higher rates of flu to nail biting and
infrequent hand washing.
He had long blamed himself for his relatively poor health. After all,
you didn't need to be a hypochondriac to know it wasn't good for you to
stick your fingers in your mouth. A nasty bout with flu was the last
straw for this incongruous habit. He was finally going to act like a
proper worrywart and kick the habit.
"But how?" he wondered.
Every journey begins with a first step, and for Jack that was filing
off the rough edges. Jack figured that biting began with picking and
picking began with a rough edge begging to be picked. What nails he had
may have been misshaped and abused - but soon they were smooth.
A few harrowing weeks later, filing had just about replaced picking and
biting as Jack's primary habit. That first week Jack had to consciously
close his fists, when his fingers were idle, to avoid unconscious
picking. It was driving him crazy - until his acquired obsession with
the nail file got up to speed. In those following weeks his new
obsession didn't just grow - it spread. Nail filing begat cuticle
maintenance, which begat surface smoothing and buffing. In private
moments he gazed at his fingers, splayed in a decidedly un-masculine
fashion, admiring their appearance.
But our story didn't end there, and neither did Jack.
He noticed he was getting less sleep. He noticed he was getting
moodier. He noticed he was loosing weight - in his hands. It would have
been easier for Jack to dismiss if he didn't think his nails looked a
little narrower in their bed. "I think it's all in your head Jack," his
wife Stacy replied one morning when his anxiety momentarily got the
better of him. "Think about the alternative... the bone structure of
your hands is getting narrower? I seriously doubt it."
It's a real pity she didn't have a better-developed sense of irony.
When Jack was able to pry his eyes away from his hands, he came to
notice other differences - starting with subtle changes to the face
looking back at him in the mirror, followed by a barely perceptible
shrinking of his joints. This is where his mind began to betray him.
Although subtle, he noticed each of these changes. However, knowing
himself to be a hypochondriac, he convinced himself he was seeing
symptoms that weren't there (that morning in the bathroom with his wife
being the lone exception). It was an uneasy truce, but it got him
through the day. Since no one at work seemed to notice and his wife
didn't notice, maybe it was all in his head.
Jack may have eventually cured himself of his phobias, had someone not
finally spoken up. It wasn't the physical changes that Jack's wife
noticed. It was his behavior that caught her eye.
"Jack, do you know we haven't had sex in six weeks?" she asked one
evening, after the kids had gone to bed.
"You know, I guess I didn't. Why do you ask? Have you wanted to?"
"Jack. Six weeks. Do you have to ask? Of course I've wanted to."
"So why not say something sooner? Hell - why not do something sooner?
Why do I always have to make the first move?"
"I don't know. You seemed so tired. Maybe I thought you wouldn't be in
the mood. Have you... you know... been in the mood?" she asked.
"I might have been, if I'd been given some reason to be."
"Jack, listen to yourself. You don't sound like the Jack I celebrated
my last birthday with... and there's your behavior lately. What's with
the clinging all of a sudden? We spend all evening practically attached
at the shoulder, so I think you might be up to something... even though
you seem tired... then nothing. We go to sleep. Its not that I don't
like the attention... but affection without sex just isn't you Jack.
Not for six weeks. What's wrong?"
Jack didn't have an answer; not that night or the weeks that followed.
He still noticed the physical changes, but now he began to really
worry.
---
It was four months after Jack gave up biting his nails when Stacy first
noticed a physical change.
"Jack, weren't you asking me about your fingers a while back? Something
about them looking smaller?"
"Ah... yeah. Why?"
"Have you noticed anything else?" she asked.
"I ahh... well... are you trying to say something? You haven't noticed
anything have you?"
"I don't think I would have said anything if you hadn't mentioned your
fingers, because it seems so odd to say - but your knees seem smaller."
"My knees?"
"Well, yeah. Do you remember when we started dating and I asked you
about your knees? I think I might have said your legs looked like you
played soccer as a kid because of your thin legs and knobby knees."
"What does playing soccer have to do will having knobby knees?" he
asked.
"You know, I think you said the same thing back then." she replied.
"I guess some questions are timeless, so?"
"It's just that I always thought you had big knees... and it just
struck me that you don't."
"I don't, you mean, anymore?"
"Well... yeah. So what do you think?" she asked.
"I think I'm scared."
Jack and Stacy sat up half the night, speculating what this might have
meant. They tried Google. They tried online health sites. Nothing they
found quelled their concerns. After giving up on the computer, they
settled into an intimate conversation about nothing in particular...
nestled comfortably in bed. As they spoke, the pauses between speaking
slowly grew longer, until eventually they both fell asleep.
---
Jack was always a good driver. He had a clean record: no speeding
tickets and no accidents. His friends in college used to kid him that
he drove like an old woman. However, it only takes a moment to make all
of that completely irrelevant.
"Sir, can you hear me? Sir?"
"Huh?"
"Sir, you have been in an accident. Can you tell me where it hurts?"
"Huh?"
"Sir, can you..."
---
"There's not much to report at this point maam. The good news is there
doesn't appear to be any permanent damage. He'll probably just have a
nasty headache from the concussion to remind him to drive more
carefully."
"And the bad news?" Stacy asked.
"Well, I don't know if its bad news, per say... but it bears checking
out later with your husband's primary care physician. You gave us your
husband's approximate weight when he came in, but when we got the
chance to weigh him we got twenty pounds less. Now, when your husband
woke up we asked him about his weight, he gave us a number closer to
what we got on the scale. Normally I would just go with what he said -
it is his body after all - but there was something about his reaction
that was worrisome - as if the subject was causing some distress, but
he was holding back. Anyway, even if he doesn't see his doctor, you may
want to at least talk to him about it."
---
Although Jack really didn't want to talk to Stacy about it at first, he
admitted to being less than honest with the ER doctor about his weight;
and, since they were both worried bout the weight loss, Jack did agree
to see his doctor. As little as he expected from his doctor, Jack was
still disappointed that he had no ready theories he was willing to
share... until after some blood tests.
"... Hi, this is Lisa with Labs Inc. I'm calling because it seems we
lost the sample we took from you two weeks ago. Can you come back in
for another blood draw?"
"I guess. Is there any day or time I should come in?" Jack asked.
"Oh no. Any time should be fine."
"You realize I don't have my script from my doctor anymore - I gave it
to you all last time. Do I need to go back to my doctor for a new set
of orders?"
"Oh no. You should be fine. We have your doctor's instructions entered
on our system from the first time."
"Do you mind if I ask what took so long?" Jack asked.
"How do you mean?"
"Usually I have my results back in a week, but it's been two and you're
just now figuring out mine was lost?"
"Well, we didn't know yours was lost until just recently. We didn't
know until we finished the work-up on what we thought was your sample.
We knew we mixed up somewhere when it became obvious your results
showed you to be a perfectly healthy woman. Sir? Are you still there?"
---
"No Stacy, I'm not kidding. That's really what she said."
"Well shit. Shit-shit-SHIT! What the HELL is that supposed to mean.
Fingers - joints - behavior - your blood. Don't even tell me if you're
sprouting breasts. I'm not interested in saving money on clothes by
sharing. I..."
"Stacy, please calm down."
"I don't WANT to calm down."
"Stacy. Remember. This is happening to me. I'm desperately trying to
keep it together, but you aren't helping," Jack pleaded.
"I'm sorry Jack, but have you thought about this at all?"
"Stacy, all I do anymore is think about this. I can't concentrate at
work... I'm not sleeping much at night. I need to be able to think
about this less, not more. I need... AHH! I NEED you to leave me
ALONE."
Jack didn't go back for another draw. The lab, having no interest,
other than not being further embarrassed, didn't bring it up. His
doctor, with a whole slew of HMO patients, never followed up with Jack
or the lab.
---
"Jack? I'm sorry?"
"I know. I understand this is happening to you to... so to speak," Jack
reassured.
"What's next?" she asked.
"I have no idea."
Sometimes people keep doing what they normally do, even in a crisis,
because they don't know what else to do. That's exactly what Jack and
Stacy did. As you might expect, carrying on as if everything were
normal was a bigger problem for Jack, especially when his changes
continued. At work he stopped using the stairs when he felt parts of
his body bouncing. He stopped tucking in his shirt when his pants
became an awkward fit at the top. He started biting his nails again to
try to make them look less delicate. He stopped doing anything that
might call more attention to himself. He stopped speaking at meetings.
He started eating lunch in his office.
Despite his efforts, his coworkers took notice - ironically (at first)
- because of his efforts. He was never outgoing, but they noticed when
he withdrew completely into his shell. Perhaps because he was never
outgoing, he didn't have anyone at work he was particularly close to,
and therefore had no one to confront him over his behavioral changes.
He was as productive as ever, so not even his boss said anything... to
his face... not even when people began to whisper that he might be
taking hormones.
At home they tried to ignore the changes too. However, at home Jack and
Stacy were talking as much as ever - just not about Jack. Although they
did not have sex (or engage in sexual behavior) physical intimacy
reassured each other in a way words never could. They still fell asleep
in each other's arms. They still cuddled in each other's arms at night,
in front of the TV, after the kids went to bed. It wasn't until their
precocious 8-year-old daughter brought it up that either of them talked
seriously about his changes again.
"Dad, why do you have a big butt like mom now?"
Jack was horrified. He stood there, motionless in front of his
daughter. While she may have lacked tact, she was observant.
"Dad, what's wrong?" she asked, worried that she may have crossed a
line she didn't know was there.
"Um..." Jack mumbled, as stress, uncertainty, and emotion all came to
bear. Jack gently bit down on his quivering lower lip as a single tear
rolled down his cheek.
"Dad, what's wrong?" she repeated.
Suddenly overwhelmed with self-consciousness, Jack turned away and
sought refuge behind the locked door of his bedroom. Safely behind the
door, Jack began to cry in earnest.
"Chrissy, what's wrong? What happened?" Stacy asked their daughter. A
hushed conversation ensued, one that would have been out of earshot for
Jack - even if he had wanted to listen. After a few minutes there was a
knock on the door.
"Jack, what's wrong? Can I come in?"
"Chrissy said I had a big butt."
"Jack, please let me in. I think we need to talk. We've needed to for a
while now. Come on Jack, open up."
Jack did open up, both the door and emotionally. After Jack calmed down
they surveyed the changes. Jack's rear was indeed larger, but this had
been apparent when he began to feel more comfortable in Stacy's jeans.
His hips were wider and there was a layer of fat on his outer thighs
that didn't seem to be there before. His scrotum had all but
disappeared and there was evidence that the rest of his genitalia would
be following suit.
"Jack! I had no idea it had gone this far. With all the talking we do,
why didn't you want to talk about this?"
"It's not exactly something that comes up naturally in day-to-day
conversation Stacy. 'Hi dear. How was your day? Guess what? My balls
have almost completely disappeared!'"
"Yeah, but..."
"...and speaking of which, I thought some of my changes were self
evident. They embarrass me enough without talking about it every day."
"Has anyone noticed at work?" Stacy asked.
"Oh, that's been the absolute worst. Yes, oh yes, they've noticed. I
was never a popular guy, but I wasn't a pariah either. Rooms go
horribly quiet when I walk in... so often that I must be all anyone
talks about anymore. It's just awful."
"Have you thought about leaving? You know... finding another job?"
"I don't know. I know this isn't the greatest job, but it's almost
impossible to get fired and that's a real bonus right now. How many
employers would have kept me around this long? Nope, as bad as I feel
being the object of amusement, I'll probably stay. Besides, we need the
money. And another thing... how would I get this other job? I'm not
looking much like a 'Jack' these days. I'm bound to get to a point soon
when my driver's license is just about useless as I.D."
"Have you thought any more about going back to the doctor?"
"Only that I don't want to. What are they going to say about this?
Actually, as long as my coworkers keep to themselves, letting them
assume I'm on hormones is perfect. I do everything else online... so as
long as they keep letting me work, I think I'm good."
"I don't think we can just do nothing Jack."
"But what's the alternative? Have you considered that a doctor might
not believe that I'm me anymore?"
"Jack!?"
"No, seriously, think about it. From the day my blood test came back I
figured I might have trouble proving who I am. Our doctor doesn't know
us that well. He's got too many patients. And even if he did agree to
see me, what's the chance I'd be able to use our health insurance to
pay for it. They're always looking for a reason not to pay. Heck...
who's to say they wouldn't try to seek to prosecute me for insurance
fraud?"
"But you're you..."
"But if there is ever any reason to doubt it, how do I prove it? I may
still look mostly like me, but if a quick look at my blood says
otherwise, my guess is they will pretty much ignore my face in favor of
science. Who knows what my DNA might reveal. It may still be similar...
or exactly the same, but if the more obvious identifiers of gender like
hormones suggest I'm not a man, who's going to suspect or believe the
truth... enough to try a more involved test... especially since my
circumstances are so fantastic."
"Uh huh... you know Jack; you seem to have calmed down awfully quickly.
You were the one needing to be consoled not to long ago. Do you think
that's odd?"
"Nah. I think it just feels better to be talking about it. What about
you? What do you think about all of this?"
"I think I'm loosing my husband. No, no, no... I know you haven't gone
anywhere, but I still feel kind of lonely. Does that make any sense?"
"Come here."
Jack opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. Stacy leaned into her
husband for a long, needy embrace. For the first time in months, Jack
began to feel aroused. It wasn't quite the same - the smell of her hair
in his nose and the crush of her breasts against his chest did not
cause a stirring in his pants. Instead, it was her warm, trusting
embrace that gave his heart pause. It was purely accident that his hand
found bare skin, but once there it felt compelled to explore. She
seemed so warm and soft in his hands. He pulled his head back to look
her in the face. When her head pulled back in reply their eyes met.
For a moment their eyes searched each other, looking - hoping for
consent. In unspoken, mutual, and yearning consent they came together
in a simple kiss. Hesitantly at first, Stacy's hands began to explore
her changed husband. Their kisses and their explorations were not
urgent, but no less loving or tender than ever before. They were slow,
almost careful, but tender, loving and wholly accepting. Unspeaking,
they moved to the bed and explored each other in ways and to an extent
they had not achieved in ten years of marriage. While you may not have
used the word "sex" to describe their coming together, you most
certainly would have used the word "love."
---
There are those of you who would get off hearing about how Jack and
Stacy spent their evening together. To all of you I have one thing to
say, "looks like you're out of luck."
Jack's biggest challenges, as well as some surprises, were still in
Jack's future; but I'll save that for another time.
Mei
- 08.11.2021
- 5
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