The Edge Of The Woods free porn video

Nobody goes to law school unless they have a chip on their shoulder. It's different for everyone, but it's true. Maybe they have something to prove to their parents, or to their friends. Maybe they feel insecure about their earning potential. I just wanted the degree. I grew up poor. Real poor. My single mother pushed education as hard as she could for my twin brother and me. She worked afternoons and nights and did what she could for us. I never doubted how much she cared. I was smart, but nobody notices that when you're poor. Affluent kids are smart, not poor kids. So I had something to prove. A college degree wasn't enough. Which, I'll admit, without any passion for law or understanding of what I was getting into, I found myself enrolling in a small, mid-tier law school in Portland Oregon. It's easy to bond with your classmates your first year. Everyone is starting a new adventure. Nobody really knows what to expect. That's not to say things don't split into cliques. The point is, you take the same classes with the same sixty or seventy other students that first year, and you get to know each other surprisingly quickly, if only on a superficial level. You learn about contracts together, and estoppel, and the difference between substantive and procedural due process. Concepts you'd never really bothered with. A shared suffering. It's impossible not to recognize a classmate, not just by face, or name, but voice and gait. This is why, halfway through third year, just after spring term started, as we entered our final semester of classes, I began to realize that something was wrong. Unfamiliar faces started showing up here and there. People looked and sounded off. It was slow. At first, just a malaise I couldn't exactly describe. An uneasiness I couldn't explain. A dish missing an ingredient, where you know the taste's off, but you can't tell what spice isn't there. Now, there's a reason it took me a while to put things together. Despite everything I just said, you don't know everyone. Those people you bond with are just your section, and there are usually three or four other sections the same year. So, that first year, when the intense bonding happens, that's a quarter or a fifth of your class. And then there are the second and third year students. And the night students. So when things started, they started among the second year students, none of whom I knew very well. And so at first I felt confused, and not concerned. And for a little I just felt crazy. It was early February. I'd just done a brief trail run in Forest Park. The weather was unseasonably warm and clear. So clear, in fact, that Mt. Hood and Mt. St. Helens were both visible from the park, dominating the skyline. Days like this are to be treasured in the Northwest, where winters tend to be characterized by low clouds and eternal, misty, light rain. Not wanting to go home, but completely exhausted from my run, I stopped at a small coffee shop. It was there that things got strange for the first time. Or, maybe for the first time I noticed. As I stood by the bar waiting for my drink, I felt a light touch on my shoulder. I turned. There, smiling, not an inch over five feet tall, was a thin, beautiful woman. Her face was lightly dusted with freckles and her ginger hair was pulled back loosely in a basic pony tail. "James!" she exclaimed. "How are you!" "Good," I answered, a little off-guard, feeling that peculiar and uncomfortable feeling that comes with being greeted by name from somebody you can't remember ever meeting. "I'm good. How are you?" I learned a long time ago that the best way to handle these situations was by keeping things vague, asking questions, and hoping the other person would say something that might jog a memory somewhere. "I'm excellent," she answered, still smiling. The sun through the window illuminated her face and made her green eyes sparkle. "You know, just taking a break from doing my reading for Ansel's class." So she was from school. "Oh, which one is that?" I asked, trying my best to place her face. She gave me a weird look, and then laughed. "Which one do you think?" "Well, I'm in his land use planning seminar, so not that one..." "You're ridiculous." She laughed again and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. "I should go back to my girlfriend. Just saying hi." She turned, paused, and looked back at me. "I'll see you on Monday in class." Her voice was pleasant. As she walked away, I followed her with my eyes. She took a seat in a corner, at a table covered in open books and notepads, and directly across from a tall blonde who I knew all too well. Megan Bailey. I'd dated her for several weeks during the first semester of law school. She'd been in a different section but we had met in the library and felt an immediate attraction. As with most immediate attractions, it had fizzled very quickly after we realized we had nearly nothing in common except intelligence. Megan and I were not on bad terms, mind, but we weren't friends either. I was glad enough that she had been too busy reading to join her friend in greeting me. I grabbed my drink from the bar and started to leave. Right before walking out the door I glanced a final time at Megan and the mystery girl. Megan just happened to look up at that moment and catch my eye. For a moment, she looked confused, then quickly glanced away. I left, unsure what part of my memory I should file this particular social interaction under. Somehow, in the course of ten minutes, the sky had become charcoal gray and heavy. I hurried home, ready for a shower and a nap. *** Later that afternoon I met my friends Sammy and Doug at a neighborhood bar, ostensibly to watch the Blazers game, but mostly just to get drunk on a Sunday evening. Several PBR tall-boys in, I decided to ask them about the redhead. No sooner had I mentioned Megan then Sammy exclaimed "Sarah Wood! Man, those two are a hot fucking couple. How could you not recognize Sarah Wood?" "Wait," I asked, "they're a couple?" "Yeah man, where have you been?" Sammy rolled his eyes. "I thought she was dating that one dude, the tall guy, that bald dude with the big-ass red beard." "What," Doug chimed in. "Megan the Lesbian? A dude?" "Since when has she been a lesbian?" I was slightly drunk. Nothing was making sense. "Since always, dude," said Sammy. "I know you had the hots for her first year, but she's not into guys. Thought you'd figured that out the hard way." "Well, I did date her for a few weeks..." "No you didn't, asshole," laughed Doug. "Unless you asking her out and getting shot down counts as dating." "Does getting rejected count as dating?" Sammy asked with a grin. "No, ass," answered Doug. "Damn," Sammy sighed. "And here I thought my list of women I'd dated had just..." "Charlie," I said. Interrupting. Sammy and Doug stared at me. "The bald dude with the red beard, his name is Charlie Something, the one who dates Megan." Sammy rolled his eyes again. "Dude, the only person dating Megan is Charlotte Burke. She's on law review with me." "Isn't Charlie on law review too?" I asked. "Dude, no idea where you came up with this Charlie person. Those beers must be hitting you pretty hard tonight." I shook my head. He was right. I was a little drunk and continuing this conversation was only going to make my head hurt. I sighed, turning my attention back to the game. "Forget I said anything. I'm not sure what's happening in my head." "No problem, man," said Doug. "Yeah," agreed Sammy. "It's just stress dude. Fucking school. Fucking bar exam. Fucking job market. Just stress." He turned his attention back to the game. After the Blazers finished dropping a ten point lead in the fourth to lose to the Rockets, we said our goodnights and headed home. It was a short walk for me, four blocks, but it gave me time to think about the day. Now that I thought about it, Charlie Whatever looked a lot like this Charlotte girl I'd met earlier. More than just hair color. Her face resembled his, same sharp nose and high cheeks, almost like they might have been siblings. I dropped the thought, reminding myself that I barely know Charlie and I'd only met Charlotte once. Any similarities were entirely in my head. I pushed it out of my head, deciding not to worry about it again. *** Monday morning sucks in college. It's worse in the corporate world. That makes it not so bad in law school. With memories of having to wake up at seven and drag your hung-over ass into work with a smile, waking up at ten and deciding to go without a shower seems like a blessing. It was almost 11 when I got to campus, just in time for my first class. I sat down quickly toward the back of the room and began browsing the internet as I waited for class to fill and the professor to arrive. I was so focused on an article about the current status of the war in Syria that I didn't even notice when another student took the seat beside me. This explains why I jumped when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Looking over, there was that girl, Charlotte I guess, sitting beside me. "Hi James," she said. "Oh. Hi Charlotte," I answered, confused. "I didn't realize you were in this class." "Oh, whatever, James. I only sit here every day." She laughed. "What do you think Professor Ansel is going to wear today?" "What?" The question seemed like it came out of left field. "A suit maybe? A button up and khakis?" "You're too funny," Charlotte said. "How about a real guess? Maybe she'll wear a tight sweater and a skirt?" "Why would Professor Ansel dress in women's clothing?" "Because she's a woman and she knows it drives you guys out of your minds when she does?" I laughed, heavily. "You're the one who's funny, Charlotte." Professor Ansel was an old, rail thin man. He carried himself like an aristocrat and spoke in a slow, plodding tone that carried its meaning with great weight but little inflection. Tufts of white hair surrounded his scalp and his forehead had a tendency to reflect light. The only color on his face was in his cheeks. Professor Ansel had a very prominent rosacea . I say this, not to insult the man, but more to emphasize my surprise, when, instead of Professor Ansel, a stunning brunette walked into the room and made her way toward the podium. She was gorgeous. Perhaps mid-thirties, and well built. Her tight sweater showed off her large round breasts which bounced ever so slightly with each step she took. Her skirt came to just above her knees, but it emphasized her wide hips and sculpted thighs. But her cheeks were bright red, as if she'd been outside in the cold for hours. She cleared her throat. "As I promised on Wednesday, we're going to spend some more time on the Fifth Amendment and exactions..." *** I didn't pay much attention during class. I spent most of my time on WebMD and Wikipedia, reading and rereading the indicators of schizophrenia and dementia. At one point, I had myself convinced I was the youngest person to ever contract Alzheimer's. Mostly, I was scared. Looking back, it seems so quaint. I've seen things far more incredible by now. Experienced them too. But at that time, when it was all starting, I didn't know what to make of it, other than to think I was losing my mind. *** The rest of the day seemed to pass uneventfully. At least it did until that evening. I had been studying in the library all afternoon. Something about the soft yellow light and the heavy musk of stacks upon stacks of books has always been calming. Outside, the late winter dreariness faded from gray, to purple, to dark, heavy blue. Only a thin line of light in the sky way off on the western horizon left any hint that it wasn't night. I'd stopped studying a while ago. At this point, I was just surfing the internet and trying to keep my mind off of the world outside. I was starting to feel sane again. Suddenly, I felt a punch on my back. Turning, I saw immediately it was Doug. He smiled at me with the same big, generous smile he used to lure women back to his place on a Saturday night. Of course, directed at me, it was meant as a signal of friendship, rather than lust. But Doug couldn't help it. He had charisma. "Cigarette?" Doug asked, holding a pack of American Spirits. I don't smoke often. I quit at the age of 25, a year before law school. But, sometimes, when the stress is too much, I relapse a bit. Doug knew this, and took advantage of it. He always seemed to show up at the right time to catch me at my weakest point. Still, after four years, I wasn't worried about picking up the habit again. "So man," Doug said, once we were safely out of the earshot of anyone else still on campus, "serious question, please don't act like I'm insane." "Dude, it wouldn't be an act," I responded. "Shut up, ass. This is serious." He paused and looked left and right. "Am I the only person who feels like shit's weird around here?" I almost responded with a yes. Something held me back. To this day I'm not sure what it was, or at least, not totally sure. Doug was never a friend I felt like I could really trust. Don't get me wrong, I didn't feel like he was out to get me. I definitely didn't feel like he was about to backstab me. But he wasn't someone you could really rely on. He was the kind of guy you didn't want as a wingman, because he had a habit of walking out of a place with your date. He was the kind of guy you didn't call if you had a flat tire, because inevitably he'd be right in the middle of cooking something that would burn his apartment down if he left. Doug was a fair weather friend, and, as long as you understood that, he was a great guy. You just couldn't trust him. I pondered his question for a bit. "No," I eventually replied. "What do you mean?" "Well, like, when you were talking about Megan and Charlotte yesterday, for example..." "When I was drunk and high?" "Yeah." "Exactly." "So you don't think anything weird is going on around here?" There was a sharpness to the question. One I didn't exactly like. "Nothing at all?" "Not as far as I can tell man." "Okay. I guess I'm just crazy then." "You said it. Not me." "Fuck off." We both laughed for a bit, then, excusing himself, Doug disappeared into the night. *** The problem was, I actually was crazy. Batshit crazy. On Tuesday morning I had a class on wills and estates. The professor was young, but strict. Of all the classes I took, he was the only one with a seating chart. That is to say, I knew exactly who I sat between. To my left was an older man, maybe in his forties. To my right was the sharpest dresser in school, Tony Spitz. This kid knew fashion forward and backward. He never showed out in public without his hair in perfect alignment. I was early to class. I sat alone for a few minutes before a rather flighty looking girl entered the room. She was wearing a flowing, sequined skirt and a peasant shirt. Her raven hair was unkempt, but clearly clean and well cared for. She wore plastic flip-flops. She made her way through the room. Don't get me wrong. She was cute. Her breasts were barely contained by her thin shirt, and you could tell she wasn't wearing a bra, both from the bounce, and also the nipples and areola visible through the fabric. Despite myself, I felt my penis getting hard. I wasn't sure what to do when she sat next to me and pulled out her laptop. I wanted to mention the seating chart, but as I looked her direction I noticed the log-in name on her computer screen. "Tonya Spitz." As she entered the password with her bright blue fingernails, I almost did too. *** After class, Tonya stopped me before we left. "James," she said, her eyes as wide as could be and her disheveled hair framing her beautiful face. "Do you mind taking a walk with me?" Never one to turn down a beautiful woman, I quickly agreed. We exited the building from a back door. Now, keep in mind, the school itself is built on the edge of a state park. By exiting through the backdoor, we stepped directly into a temperate rain forest. The kind the northwest is known for, with heavy green moss, fragrant cedars, and giant douglas firs. I stopped for a moment to take a breath, but Tonya tugged at my sleeve, leading me down a path I knew well. This particular path ran along the edge of the park to a parking lot, rather than deeper into the woods. I assumed she was taking me to her car. I was right. But her car caused me to step back for a moment. It was a yellow mustang. Not quite the kind of car you would expect a crunchy girl like Tonya to drive. On the other hand, it was exactly the kind of car Tony did drive. I looked at her. "Is this your brother's car?" "I don't have a brother." She stepped forward and pulled me into a kiss, her gray eyes dimming, as if filling with smoke. I broke away. "No brother? What about Tony?" She paused. She looked at the ground. For a moment she looked like she was about to burst into tears. Then she smiled and asked "Who's Tony?" She smacked my ass and gazed up into my eyes. "I have a present for you, from Doug." "What..." I started to ask, but by the time the words came out she had my zipper down and my cock in her mouth. She knew what she was doing, and she did it with enthusiasm. It didn't take long for me to blow a load right down her throat. She swallowed it and looked at me. "Thank you," I said. "Don't thank me," she responded. "Thank Doug." With that, the fog cleared from her eyes. She gave me a brief, somewhat confused grin. "Thanks for walking me to my car, James." "No problem," I replied, more confused than ever. *** Walking back to the campus my mind pondered all of the bizarre events of the past few days. Either the world had gone mad, or I had. I was leaning towards the latter, primarily because it was easier to explain a world where my brain had gone haywire than it was to describe a world where the laws of physics had broken apart. I was so deep in thought that I didn't notice her until I had tripped over her outstretched leg. She was sitting on a log smoking a cigarette. I don't think she saw me either, because as I fell I heard her shout in shock. I lay on the ground for a moment, willing myself to feel each of my limbs. I could smell the deep, wet, musky scent of the forest around me. I was about to stand when I heard a voice. "James. Damn it. Are you feeling okay?" It was a woman. Her voice had just the slightest hint of an accent. I rolled over and looked up and into the deep brown eyes of a tall, sleek olive skinned beauty. Her straight black hair hung loosely from her head and her fine nose imparted a regal look to her face. She wore a shirt with a deep v-neck that showed off ample cleavage and the slightest hint of a lacey white bra. She smiled at me, baring perfect, pearl white teeth. But only her mouth and cheeks were smiling. Her eyes were deadly serious. "I think so," I answered. "I'm pretty sure. I know you, right? From somewhere?" I was completely entranced by her beauty. "Yes," she answered, and then inhaled deeply. "In another life we were close friends." "What life was that?" "The one before today, I guess. Before yesterday too." She paused and reached down with her hand. I grasped it and she helped pull me back on my feet. Shaking her head, she giggled and said "I just enjoy being a mystery. We know each other from class. I'm Nadia." *** I met Doug and Sammy for drinks a few hours later. I was mostly planning to keep everything that had happened in the past few days to myself, but both seemed eager to hear what I'd been up to. Sammy told me he'd seen me walk out of the building with Tanya, and Doug claimed he'd been in the parking lot when it happened, parking his car, which, honestly, is a legit thing to do in a parking lot. Oddly, despite the fact that both of them seemed to know exactly how my time with Tanya had gone, neither mentioned Nadia. I almost brought her up, but decided to keep her my secret. The night ended on an up note, with the Blazers pulling out a comeback in the last four minutes to top Oklahoma City. Doug decided to walk home with me. His apartment was technically in the same direction as mine, although, he had more direct routes he could have taken. Either way, I was boozed up and open to the company. Most of the trip was comfortable silence, but as we approached my apartment, Doug became more talkative. "Man, I bet that Tonya chick almost basically sucked your dick straight off," he said. "She's a pretty amazing cocksucker." "You've gotten one from her too?" I queried. "No. But she has quite the reputation." "Where does she have a reputation." "School." "Then why had I never heard of her before this afternoon?" Doug shot me a tired look. "I guess you don't pay attention to cock suckers." "I guess not," I said. I was home. With a brief hug Doug was on his way. I fell into my bed, ready to sleep forever. *** The next morning proceeded with a strange sense of order. I went through all the motions, trying my best to convince myself that I was not losing my mind. I'd almost succeeded, but halfway through my second class of the morning, I caught another change. This time it was William Bradford. He was heavy and pale. He sat toward the front of the classroom, focused on the lecture, quickly typing notes on his computer. I can't say for sure why my eyes settled on him, but he seemed nervous and uncomfortable. He stood up and slipped towards the door, leaving his bag and his computer on the desk. I went back to studying the room. Perhaps ten minutes later, the door to the room opened. I assumed it was William, back from his bathroom break or whatever he'd been up to. I was wrong. In walked a tall, leggy woman with magnificent breasts. She quietly made her way around the edge of the classroom and sat down in William's seat. She nonchalantly unlocked his laptop and began typing away, taking notes as if nothing had happened. I couldn't help but stare. Almost absent-mindedly, the woman in William's seat collected her long, dark brown hair in her hands and pulled it behind her head, using a pen to secure it in place. I scanned the room, but as far as I could tell nobody else had noticed something was off. After explaining a rather complicated theory, the professor asked if there were any questions. The girl in William's seat raised her hand. "Yes, Ms. Bradford," the professor said. "What is your question?" *** After class ended I made my way to the student lounge for lunch. Wanting to be alone with my thoughts I sat in a seat in the far corner of the room. I scanned the open seating area, examining my fellow students. There were plenty I recognized, but there was something off. I pondered that feeling, trying to figure out, through observation, what was wrong. When it hit me, it hit me hard. The people I didn't recognize were universally handsome. Either tall, sculpted men with chiseled jaws and broad shoulders, or beautiful women, with universally large chests and classic curvy figures. There was no way that I could have missed this cross-section of Hollywood that accounted for a quarter of the room. I felt a chill run through me. Scanning the room again it seemed the overly attractive ones were focused on each other. The others, the people I knew, seemed to be oblivious to anything out of the ordinary. Then I caught Megan out of the corner of my eye, sitting with Charlotte. Once again, she briefly made a confused face then abruptly looked away. For her part, Charlotte also made eye contact, smiled, and politely waved. I continued scanning the room, trying my best to keep my face looking neutral and hoping it was working. I tried not to let my gaze linger on any one person for more than a moment, but I began to worry. As my eyes danced across the room I began to think I had caught people staring at me, looking away only instants after I had brought them into my line of vision, and snapping their eyes back in my direction instants before they passed from view. My stomach felt queasy. I stared down at the table and my lunch, wanting nothing more than to no longer be in that room. I was interrupted by my name. ?James,? said a slightly accented voice. I looked up. It was Nadia. ?Can I ask you just a huge favor,? she asked, leaning over the table and giving me, perhaps intentionally, a perfect view down the deep recess between her perfect breasts, a slight scent of jasmine radiating from her skin. ?Sure,? I answered, unsure how she knew my name. ?I need tomorrow?s notes from Professor Jones? class? she said. ?Can you email them to me after the class ends?? ?Of course,? I answered, sure that she was not in that class. I would have noticed her. ?What is your address.? ?Here,? she said, pulling a pen and pad from her purse and quickly jotting it down in the notebook. She handed it to me and smiled. ?I really appreciate it,? she said, then slowly walked away, her round ass switching perfectly in her jeans. I looked at her address. It took a second to notice that it wasn?t an address. It was a note. It read ?James. I know you probably don?t think you know me very well. You do. Be careful. Stop staring and asking questions. I don?t want you hurt. I will call you later tonight when I can be alone. Nadia.? I blinked. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Sammy. He wanted to grab a drink after classes. I wanted a drink more than any other time in my life. Needless to say, I agreed, telling him I?d meet him at the neighborhood bar at six for happy hour. *** Sammy was his usual sarcastic self. That?s why I loved the guy. On this particular evening, he was mostly concerned with a woman. ?Her name?s Sadie,? he told me. ?But she?s not into S&M.? ?And you are?? I asked. ?No. Just with a name like Sadie, I feel like it?s false advertising if you?re not. I mean, same with a girl name Masochism, right?? ?Who the hell would name their kid Masochism?? ?Mormons?? ?You?re impossible, dude.? ?Yeah. But I really like her. The only thing is, I have no idea where she came from.? ?Her mamma?s vagina, maybe?? ?Well, obviously, but, also, she?s a second year at school. I?d never seen her before last week, and now she?s all over me. She?s hot, but also kind of weird.? ?How so?? ?Last night we were fucking and after we were done she just looked at me and started telling me she was going to miss me.? ?What the fuck?? ?Yeah.? ?So have you heard from her since?? ?Yeah. For sure. After you and Doug went home last night she came by.? ?So what was the whole weird goodbye thing about?? ?I don?t know. Women are nuts?? ?Yeah?? Sammy and I drank for a couple hours. At some point, he invited me back to his house to smoke a bowl. We sat on his couch, smoking, and I began to feel very high. Far more than I should have from what I?d smoked. Sammy abruptly stood up and brushed his dark brown hair out of his eyes. He scratched his beard and grunted. ?Dude. I need to piss. I?ll be back in a few seconds.? While he was gone I focused on the high. The buzzing in my body, the thumping in my heart. The inability to coherently organize the world around me. I lost track of time, almost floating as I sank deeper into the couch. When I looked up, I was shocked by what I saw. A woman walked out of the hallway towards me. Her skin pale like milk, her hair a deep silky brown. She wore only panties and a bra that pushed her large breasts together and failed to completely cover her areola. Her panties clung to her sex. You could see the form of her vagina accentuated by the fabric. She looked at me, smiling. ?Where is Sammy?? I asked, confused. ?Where am I indeed,? she responded coyly. ?He went to the bathroom, didn?t he?? I asked. She ignored me. ?I told you I was going to change into something more comfortable.? We were talking passed one another, but, before I could protest any further, she had crossed the room and put her lips against mine, gently settling in my lap. We kissed, without thinking. The smell of her body intoxicated me beyond my already deranged state. She broke the kiss, and the resumed, taking breaks between to peck at my ears and neck. I was consumed by the moment. I pushed her upward, placing my nose and mouth between her perfect tits. Feeling the soft, pillowy flesh rub against my cheeks. Without thinking, I unclasped her bra, and her breasts sprung free. I took one erect nipple between my lips and tweaked the other with my hand. They were large as my pinkie above the first knuckle. She moaned, unbuttoning and unzipping my pants as I worked on her luscious mammaries. She leaned forward, close to my ear, and whispered, ?I want to feel you inside of me.? Still completely under the influence of her body and the weed, I only smiled and pushed her back onto the couch. I kissed her tits again, and worked my way down over her stomach, finally reaching my target. I slowly pulled her underwear away, stopping for a moment to marvel at her pussy, soaking wet. I can?t remember a time in my life that I?ve been harder, and so I bent down and took a whiff of her cunt, licked it once from bottom to top with my tongue, and asked her if she was ready. ?Ooooh.? She moaned. ?I want you so bad.? I repositioned myself and rubbed my cock against her slit. ?Stop teasing me,? she cried. ?Fuck me.? It was all I needed. Overwhelmed, I dove deep into her slick, warm home, feeling her vagina constrict around me, sucking me in. ?Harder,? she screamed. ?Faster.? I complied. Our bodies melded together for an indeterminable amount of time. Finally, I felt myself close. ?I need to slow down or I?ll cum, baby,? I panted. ?Cum,? she responded. ?Cum inside me. I want you.? And with that, I exploded. I could feel her pussy constrict around my cock as I pumped everything I could into her. She shrieked and screamed, cumming with me. Then, exhausted, I collapsed on top of her. I fought against sleep, but couldn?t, and my last conscious thought was her arms constricting around my body, warm and possessive. *** I woke up cold and alone on Sammy?s couch sometime well after midnight. My phone was buzzing. I looked at the screen and saw Nadia Mahmoudi on the display. I remembered our conversation at lunch and answered, at the same time wondering why her telephone number was saved into my phone. ?James,? came a voice on the line, hushed and urgent. ?Nadia?? ?Yes. That is my name now. I need to talk to you. You are in danger.? ?Danger?? I was mostly sober by now, the memories of sex still fresh in my mind, and the alcohol making my head pound ever so slightly. ?Yes. You see too much. You need to come talk to me. Where are you.? ?Umm? I?m at?? ?No!? she interrupted. ?I shouldn?t have asked. If they are listening I do not want them to know where you are. Do you remember Jonah Reagan?? The name rang a bell. Why did it sound so familiar? And then hit me like a hammer. Jonah Reagan, my closest friend in law school. I hadn?t seen or even thought of him for months. Panicking, I asked her ?where is he?? She sighed. ?There was a place you and he would go late at night to drink and talk about the future.? ?Yeah, how?d you know, up on?? ?NO!? she shouted. ?Do not name it. Just? go there now. I?ll be there and I?ll tell you more.? She hung up. I stood from the couch, realizing I was naked, and scanned the room for my clothes? my headache was only getting worse. *** Council Crest Park is the highest point of elevation in Portland. In the summer, when it?s clear, you have amazing views of the Cascades. Even in winter, you can look down over the city and across the Columbia River into Washington. Jonah and I had discovered it on a bike ride during our first semester of school. It?s a grueling ride, several miles straight up-hill. But there?s a little gas station near the top where you can buy a six-pack. Bring a little pot, and it?s one of the best adventures out there, especially because it can be condensed into a couple hours. Tonight, however, I just drove up. It was a bit after two in the morning and raining. The world felt dead and lonely. The park is closed after midnight, but it?s entirely possible to park in the neighborhood nearby and hike up. The rain was constant, but light, the typical misty nastiness that characterizes winters in Portland. Enough to be annoying, but not enough to penetrate your clothing or require special clothing, or, god forbid, an umbrella. As I crested the incline that led up to the summit, I saw her sitting on a bench, drinking a beer and looking wistfully east towards where the mountains would be if the clouds weren?t so thick and the moon so dim. She was illuminated by a street light, and a long shadow fell away from her. As I approached I cleared my throat. She turned to me and nodded her head. With a smooth movement, she pulled a longneck from a sixpack and tossed it toward me. I caught it and popped the top with a lighter. Without urgency, I made my way toward her. She looked at me with her giant, almond eyes and smiled. Her black hair was pulled back into a pony-tail and she was wearing a loose sweater that couldn?t hide her giant tits, as well as yoga pants that couldn?t hide anything. ?Hi?? I started. ?Nadia?? ?I?m Jonah.? *** It took convincing, although, less than you?d think, given the strangeness I?d already encountered. She knew enough about me and Jonah that I had accepted her claim within ten minutes. ?So why are you a woman?? I had a million questions, but that one seemed most important. ?I only know a little about why,? she answered, again with a mild but noticeable accent. ?Well?? ?It is something in the woods behind school,? she said with a sigh. ?I know only a very little. I do not think I am supposed to know anything. I think they think I?m like the most of the others.? She sighed, and a sardonic grin appeared on her face. ?This little bit of an accent I have is the best part. My brain even thinks with it.? ?So who are now?? ?Nadia Mahmoudi. I am from Bahrain, I guess. My father and mother are living in California. I?ve seen their pictures but they do not try to call me.? ?Is everyone who?s changed like that? A new family? New life?? ?No. Some change only a very little bit. Your friend Megan is just changed to be lesbian. Others change very much but they still have their family. Megan?s boyfriend Charlie is her girlfriend Charlotte, but I do not think that there is anything different.? ?Do they know they?ve changed?? ?Not most. Most just seem to act like it is normal.? ?And how many do you think?? ?A few dozen, at least. Maybe more.? We stood silent for a moment, feeling the rain. Jonah, Nadia, whoever, looked like she was crying. ?You are in very much danger, James.? She looked at me and shook her head. ?They know you can tell. You have not been hiding it well.? ?How do you know?? ?Because they do not think I know. Because I hide it well. But I know. I watch. I was one of their early ones, I believe, before they changed themselves and when they were just trying to see how it worked, I think, before they maybe knew what they were doing and how they could tell if people remembered themselves or not.? ?How did it happen?? ?Doug, I think.? I jumped. Noting my surprise, she nodded her head. ?I do not know if he is the leader. But he is the one who changed me. We were drinking one night, and he invited me to his apartment to smoke a bit of pot. I agreed. But when we got to his house, I felt very tired and I at once sat down, hardly able to even lift an arm?? *** Doug stood over me and clicked his tongue. He said my name. I looked up at him and my vision was very blurred so I could not tell if he was smiling or frowning. Then he grabbed my chin and turned my head. I was too weak to contest. He leaned down and whispered in my ear. ?I?m sorry, Jonah,? he said. ?But I need to test something and you?re the perfect subject.? He shook his head. ?Don?t worry, I?m pretty sure you won?t remember anything after it?s done. Or even after it?s started.? Doug let go of my face then. ?I bet you wonder why you?re so weak? I slipped a sedative into your last drink. I need you compliant for this.? I moaned, trying to ask what was happening, as my brain clouded. Doug smiled at me. ?What I need to find out is how far I can push a change. That probably doesn?t make sense to you. It probably never will because you won?t remember anything after it?s over.? I remember him reaching forward with his finger and running it across my forehead. It was wet and greasy. I did not remain awake much longer. When I woke up I was in my bed and in my apartment. It was already mid- morning. I thought back to the night before and assumed it was a crazy dream. That day went fine, but the next is when it happened. Whatever he does, it does not happen all at once. I was at a coffee shop, reading for class, when I began to feel my heart race. My cheeks became flushed and my fingers and toes began to tingle uncomfortably. Then there was pressure in my abdomen. Heavy, like I was about to crap my pants. I stood up and quickly walked to the bathroom, closing and locking the stall door. I dropped my pants and sat down. That?s when I found out I couldn?t move. My muscles were locked in place. And then it started. My skin at first. I was very pale and white but it began to take on color, yellows and browns, first looking like discolored patches then spreading and enveloping my body. My fingers slimmed and I felt my hair growing impossibly quickly and cascading down my back. I felt immense pressure in my checks. Staring down at it, I watched as my areola darkened and my nipples inflated like balloons. Then something started building behind them. Hard at first, but softening as it spread across my chest. Then they grew, slowly, taking shape. My eyes stared between them as they grew. That?s when I noticed my penis was erect and rock hard, painfully hard. And it was moving and shrinking, but not softening. The skin peeled away around it, becoming loose, and I watched as the hole at the top started travelling. I could it move slowly as it made its way down my shrinking penis, finally settling where my balls should have been. I realized then that I could not feel my balls at all. Looking down I could no longer see anything between my legs except a cleft at the very bottom, but I felt it. I felt it grow inside me. I was wracked with intense pain. Then it was over. I was sitting on the toilet, my skin olive-colored. I lightly brushed against my hair. I pinched my nipples, each swollen and settling on top of my breasts. I cupped my breasts, feeling for the first time the slight pressure of the underwire, holding my tits. They are double D. Heavy and hard to control. The wobble when I run, even if I wrap them in a tight sports bra. I moved my hand between my legs and traced my sex. I stood and heard the toilet flush behind me. I reached to pull up my pants, no longer jeans, just yoga pants. And I noted I was wearing pink socks and small, yellow shoes. ?Hello,? I said, hearing my voice for the first time with my accent. I pushed out of the stall and stumbled to a mirror and saw only a beautiful Arab woman smiling back at me and mimicking my every move. After that, the next few days passed quickly, as if my body was under the control of something else, even though I never felt like I did not have free will. I just moved, and went through routines, and went to classes, and dressed and ate and did my face with makeup. I discovered I could do all these things without a thought, and that if I concentrated, I could pull memories of Nadia forward, and recognize faces and voices. That is when I began to notice other people changing. The week before Thanksgiving I saw Megan and her boyfriend Charlie on campus early on a Sunday morning. We exchanged pleasant small talk for a moment, then Charlie excused himself to leave to the bathroom. Megan suddenly appeared confused, and lost her balance. I caught her before she fell. She looked at me strangely. ?Jonah? Are you Jonah?? I was shocked. Until this moment, nobody had remembered me. ?Yes,? I replied. ?Did Doug do this to you?? ?Yes. I think so,? she answered. ?He drugged me and Charlie the other night. I thought it was a dream but now?? She stopped and vomited. I helped lower her to her knees and she bent over the grassy area beside the sidewalk and dry heaved for several minutes. Then, abruptly, she stopped and stood up quickly. She looked at me, confused, then spoke. ?Nadia, what were talking about?? ?Jonah. And Doug.? ?I don?t know any Jonahs.? She shook her head again, and smiled, appearing more confident. At that moment, Charlotte emerged from the bathroom. I knew right away that she was Charlie, but she seemed unconcerned. She walked to Megan and embraced her. They kissed briefly. ?Well,? said Charlotte. ?It?s been great chatting with you, Nadine. But I think Megan and I are ready for some alone time.? Megan giggled and responded with a wink. After that, I saw several more change, mostly during the final exams week. I watched them out of the corner of my eye when they did. Most seemed unaware of their drastic changes, but every once in a while I would notice a twinkle or an awkward movement and wonder. I was too afraid to speak to them, though. So I just carried on and lived as Nadia. That is until I saw you this week. You had the same look of confusion and fear I had recognized in some of the recently changed, and yet, you had not changed. I began to wonder. That is why I called you. That is why I asked if you knew Jonah. I was afraid that they would get you too. *** After finishing her story, Nadia stood silent for a moment. I digested it slowly. Finally, I broke the silence. ?Do they all end up with sex changes? Except Megan?? ?Not all. But yes most. I do not know. They may know. But now they are watching you. I am surprised they did not turn you tonight.? ?Turn me? How?? ?I do not know. I was drugged.? We stood in silence a while longer. Finally, I looked at her and asked ?what?s it like?? ?You mean, being a lady?? ?Yes.? ?Different.? She inhaled deeply and brushed her damp hair out of her eyes. ?It very much feels different. But it very much feels the same. I am okay with it.? ?Are you?? ?Yes. I miss friends and family. But I am okay with this body. I think they made my mind change in little ways. I know much about things like make-up and clothes I never knew as Jonah. And I am okay about my period. I am okay with being attracted to men instead of women.? ?This is bizarre?? ?Yes.? She stopped. ?Yes. You avoided them tonight. Any idea why? Did anyone change around you?? ?No. I don?t think so?? I paused and glanced out over the city. ?Wait. Fucking Sammy.? ?Sammy? How did he change?? ?I don?t know. We went to his house and smoked. Then, just, out of nowhere, this gorgeous women comes out of the bathroom and seduces me.? ?She look like Sammy?? ?Yeah.? ?She is probably Sammy.? ?Yeah?? I paused. ?So what happens next.? ?I do not know. I have no plan. I guess all I know is that I was worried about you.? She stopped and rubbed her finger briefly below her eye. ?I was also very lonely. I missed you.?