Vacation At The Beach, Another Morality Tale free porn video

Vacation at the Beach, Another Morality Tale There's a moment, as the afternoon fades toward evening and the beachgoers thin out; when the shadows start getting long and the light becomes perfect. You don't need sunglasses then. Anything seems possible. A man can dream. I wasn't interested in dreaming. I was about reality and how to shape it to my will. I knew the day was coming when I would be one of the most powerful men alive and no one would be able to stop me from doing what I wanted. I would crush them all if they tried. I smiled at the thought. Leaning back in my beach chair, I soaked up the late afternoon sun. My sunglasses stayed on. They added to my mystique and I was about image. I had all the ingredients to climb high in this world. I was reasonably good-looking, though I knew I needed a little work done to optimize it. My jaw wasn't quite 'chiseled' enough to give me the movie star good looks that would have been so useful. I grew a beard to cover that, but if I wanted to rise as high as I planned, I'd have to ditch it at some point. It was either too counterculture or too intellectual, depending on who you asked. I was just glad I had stopped myself from getting more ink than the one bit of barbed wire ringing my right bicep. A lot of tattoos would definitely sink my chances in flyover country if politics turned out to be the best way to go. My greatest assets were my intellect, my six-foot-four-inch frame and the fact that I worked out. If you're going to be successful in this life, you're kidding yourself if you don't think appearances matter. I glanced at the young buck reclining next to me. He was only a little above average height, five-foot-eleven, maybe, if you stretched him. He wasn't as ripped as I was, but he was my secret weapon. Sometimes I still felt like pinching myself in case I'd dreamed the incredible luck that had dropped him in my lap. Not in my lap literally, I don't swing that way unless it's necessary or useful. "Hey Lucky," I said, "you wanna get some grub?" I had given him that nickname and you'd only have to hear his actual name once to understand why. He sat up and pulled off his sunglasses, brushing back his curly blond mane. "Sure, I guess." I had to admit that he had the advantage on me when it came to hair. I had a fairly nondescript brown mop which I kept short. I'd have to do something about that too, eventually. "Where'd you like to go?" he asked. "There's that little place along the boardwalk that we haven't checked out yet," I said. "It ain't fancy, but I feel like slumming it." Lucky had a credit card that could get us into any restaurant in the world, no matter how many Michelin stars it had, and we'd been making good use of it. This little beachfront town was aimed at all kinds of tourists and it had some damn fine eateries. We folded up our chairs and headed for the parking lot. The car, of course, was Lucky's, a mid-level BMW. We could've had the best, but there was no reason to put up a neon sign for every car thief and vandal within 100 miles. As we packed our chairs in the trunk and put on some T-shirts and sandals, I thought about the good fortune that had put me in a position to buddy up to this guy. Lucky's full name was Lord Marcus Banford. Lord was not his title, it was the actual name on his birth certificate; if you can believe that. His wealthy, powerful East Coast family had five children. Lucky was number four. He had two older brothers along with an older and younger sister and they all received way more attention than he did. His brothers were earmarked to walk the halls of power and their sisters weren't far behind. (Yes, I know what year it is, but if you think we've come that far you're kidding yourself.) Lucky was the forgotten spare, the one everyone liked but was too na?ve and guileless to be trusted with much. Still, if I had my way he would outshine them all one day because he would be at my side. As we made our way down the boardwalk toward Juanita's Cantina, I reflected on my own path. I grew up far from the halls of power; unless it had a branch-office somewhere in the suburbs. I had a fairly conventional childhood, gathering useful friends around me and making sure things were always done my way, that sort of thing. My parents worked hard and saved, though they were crap that investing. The most important investment they made was life insurance. I was eighteen when they were killed in a car crash. That's when my path became clear. It was a bummer that they died, I guess, but I was their only child and between the insurance and my modest inheritance, I was one lucky guy with the freedom to plot out my road to glory. Don't get me wrong, I know what's important: experience. You need it if you plan on optimizing your success in this world. I wasn't in any rush to start my post-secondary education. I traveled for a while and learned how to pick up girls and get them into bed and then out of my life as quickly as necessary before moving on. I tried all the best drugs and learned how to use them to get my way with women who were resistant to my charms. I learned how to play all kinds of people in all kinds of ways; how to flatter, cajole and manipulate, when to lie and when to mislead with the truth. Along the way, I gained some hacking skills, which turned out to be useful and profitable. It was mostly social engineering, really, which was right up my alley. Perhaps it was an inconvenient past to cover up if I ever planned on succeeding in politics, but lately, I'd come to think that if you say the right things, the rubes will vote for you anyway no matter what comes to light later. Before long, the name David Spence was going to be known the world over, at least by the people who mattered. I finally decided to start my post-secondary and was now a year away from a degree that would get me started in high finance. I was twenty-six years old, but as far as I was concerned, the experience I'd gained before starting university far outweighed the time I'd lost. For example, I had the twenty-one-year-old walking next to me wrapped around my little finger in a hundred different ways. I was his sage, his sensei, and whatever I told him was what he would believe. When I first encountered him, I couldn't understand how a kid with his family background wasn't in one of those Ivy League universities that wouldn't give the likes me the time of day unless I were an academic genius. Turns out his dad had some bullshit philosophy about earning your own way through life. When I thought about the two of us renting a high- end townhouse for our lovely little beach vacation, all on his dime, I could hardly keep myself from laughing. In any case, now that I had the young Lord at my side, that's where he would stay. His family connections would open doors for me and my genius would get us both to the top one day. You just had to be patient and know how to manipulate the right people at the right time and it would all come together. I glanced at him. He wasn't bad looking in a slim, surfer-dude kind of way but he sucked at picking up girls. That was another of my projects. I was going to get the kid laid. With me as his wingman, there was no chance of failure. He was going to owe me big time. We were a few doors from our goal when Lucky said, "Hey Dave, we haven't been in this place before." "With good reason," I thought as we looked into a cluttered little shop with a wooden sign out front with the words TINA'S GIFTS inscribed on it. Why he'd even noticed the place was a bit of a head-scratcher. "Yeah," I said, "I guess we had other things to do." "It's still early, so why don't we do a little shopping. Maybe I'll find some gifts I can send to the family." I felt an eyebrow rise. "Your family? The same one that vacations in Italy and the south of France? What sort of gifts would you buy for them here?" "Come on," he said. "It'll be fun." I figured why not? I could always get a good laugh from the cheap, trashy trinkets that make the tourists happy, so in we went. The place was exactly the kind of tacky little touristy shop I expected. Racks of postcards and cheap shitty souvenirs crowded the short, narrow aisles. Several rotating displays contained fridge magnets, keychains, and inexpensive jewelry. Shelves were filled with knickknacks, crystal balls with wizards and unicorns inside them and various other paraphernalia, much of which had very little to do with this particular town or beach. On the wall hung posters of wildlife, natural wonders, and galaxies all mashed together with 'profound' sayings and bits of poetry about truth, harmony and the cosmos. The counter, where the till was, had a glass display containing what appeared to be used collectibles, coins, slightly higher-end jewelry, lapel pins, buttons, and various other odds and ends. Up on the wall, above the counter, was a shelf containing eight dolls, each of different ethnicity. I snickered to myself. How terribly inclusive. Behind the till, a woman in her twenties sat on a tall stool reading a thick paperback. She'd have been quite a fox if she didn't look like a refugee from another era. She wore ragged looking jeans with flowers and rainbows embroidered on them, a purple and yellow tie-dyed T-shirt and a multicolored beaded headband. Her long, frizzy brown hair had a single thin braid strung with more beads. The real kicker was her necklace, a cheapass looking pewter chain with one of those round peace sign medallions. She looked like she'd stepped out of a time machine with a sticker from Woodstock on it. Raggedy contrarians with bad grooming weren't normally my type, but I'd gladly do her anyway. Besides, I liked a challenge. While Lucky poked around amongst the junk, something caught my eye by the door. A bright yellow sign was mounted on the wall. It said: WARNING Theft is a crime, this isn't a game. Steal from us and you won't be the same. If your life is pleasant, then pay with haste, or return the item so you don't get erased. Without swift restoration, you should know the winds of change will surely blow. I could hardly believe my eyes and laughed out loud. When I turned to the woman, who was looking up from her book. I pointed at the sign and said, "If that's supposed to be your substitute for security, lady, I have some swampland in Florida you might be interested in." "Outta sight, man," said the woman. "But I already got me some sweat digs in Florida. And don't you worry none, my security system is a real gas. If anyone steals so much as a stick of gum, they'll find out that the sign don't lie." "Just how fucking stupid do you think I am?" I said. "From one to ten?" "I'd be a zero if I actually believed that thing. Shitty verse isn't magic." Her eyes hardened and it suddenly became difficult to meet her gaze. "Believe whatever you like, sweetie, but you'll find out how true it is if you test it. Why don't you just go ahead and do that? I double dare you." I smiled. "You've got quite the mojo going there, gorgeous. I think you'll find that I don't intimidate so easily." Sometimes, if your firm with these tough girls, you can soften them up and who knows where that might lead. Despite the abysmal fashion choices, I didn't doubt she'd look great with it all off. Now it was her turn to laugh. "That's so cute. The big charmless gentleman with the power-beard is going to sweet-talk me by being firm and manly. You can do anything you want, big boy, just be honest and don't steal, all right?" Her attention dropped back to her book. I waited for a moment, expecting more. She didn't look up and I had to almost physically shake off a sense of having been bested. There was something unbearable about beings dismissed like that. I knew if I said anything now it would only make it worse, so I turned and made my way to the other end of the store. I found Lucky looking at a display of jewelry, some sort of iridescent stuff that looked a bit like mother-of-pearl but much more like those ammolite fossils that are so popular these days. I glanced at the price tags and knew there was no way they could be anything but cheap imitations. Lucky glanced back and said, "Hey Dave, do you think maybe Calista would like..." "You could pull out that credit card and buy this entire trashy store," I said, "and you would not find one thing that either of your sisters would shit on." I waved at the display. "You see those prices? How could this be anything but junk?" "Well," he said, "I just thought they looked kind of nice." I shook my head. "You have to be more discerning. This is cheap trash, but it's overpriced cheap trash. They didn't even bother with a real security syst..." A notion struck me and its simplicity made me smile. "What?" said Lucky. "What are you grinning about?" "You'll see." I reached down and grabbed a piece of laminated cardboard with a pair of dangly earrings mounted on it. "Here." I handed it to him. "Put this in your pocket. It'll fit nicely behind your phone." He took the card. "I don't need a five finger discount. You know I can afford..." "That's not the point. Just put it in your pocket." "What is the point, then?" "I'll explain later. Tuck it in there and we can go get something to eat." He stared at the card. "Trust me on this, okay? He glanced up and said, "Alright," and stuffed it in his pocket. "But you are going to explain it to me." I gave him a wicked grin. "Once you get a load of the sign out front, this'll be easy to explain." We stopped near the front so Lucky could see it for himself. He looked very puzzled and bemused as I ushered him out the door. As I glanced at the woman, she gave me a knowing look and said, "See ya later, Dave." A chill ran up my back. How could she have known my name? She must have heard Lucky use it. "That was weird," said Lucky. "Yeah, I know." He looked at me. "You felt it too?" "What?" "That shivery feeling like someone was stepping on your grave. At least that's how my grandpa would've put it." I shook off the feeling. It had to be the power of suggestion. Maybe there really was something to putting up a sign like that. 'Winds of change,' my ass. Juanita's Cantina was nothing much more than a counter with a collection of tables under an awning. It was the sort of place that shut down for the winter and we probably didn't need shirts to eat there. An attractive Hispanic woman in her mid-forties stood behind the counter. We looked up at the menu on the wall behind her and I ordered a couple tacos. Lucky looked a little longer and then surprised me by engaging in a bit is small talk with the woman in Spanish. She smiled and chatted back in the same language. I heard the word fajita and that's all I got out of the exchange. When we sat down with their orders, I said, "Whoa buddy, I didn't know you were fluent in Spanish." "Yeah," he said, "it kind of surprised me too. My Spanish from school just came back to me. I feel like I could ace the test now. Weird." "Weird? That's all you have to say? You could've scored. That Latina babe is still pretty hot." His face got a little red and he looked down at his hands. "She's probably una mujer casada anyway." "Una what?" I said. He looked back up at me. "Married. She's probably a married woman. I think I might've seen un anillo de bodas on her finger." "Right," I said. "Listen, buddy, talk English will you? There's no point in showing off." "Sure, mam?n." "What was that?" "Nothing," He said and then muttered, "Creerse la ?ltima coca-cola en el desierto." I decided to let it go and finish my tacos. Besides, I had other things on my mind. As soon as I got home, I needed to pop my laptop and check in on a little project. I was part of a group of investors that were shorting a small company trying to promote some sort of "revolutionary technology" to help the blind or whatever. They were a bunch of idealistic, gullible idiots and we had them exactly where we wanted them. We were going to shut them down and pick their bones. I got in on it as a learning opportunity and the others considered me a useful afterthought. However, there was an outside chance that our prey could still slip the net. I was running a little hack that might bear fruit in the next few days. If I was right, I would be the one to drive the final nail into that little bullshit company's coffin. Then we would see who was an afterthought. Just thinking about it made me smile. "What is so amusing," said Lucky. "Huh?" "That grin on your face was pura maldad. You looked like you were about to cook some children for dinner and have fun doing it." I chuckled. "It's nothing, buddy. Let's go." As we got up, I said, "You should clip your nails. They seem a bit long." It was funny that I hadn't noticed that before. "Whatever," he said and then added in a low voice, "Vete a fre?r esp?rragos." "I take it you're pissed at me or you wouldn't keep rubbing that Spanish in my face. What's the problem?" "These earrings in my pocket that I did not pay for. You have not told me why I took them." Did he have a slight accent? It had to be my imagination. "Oh that," I said, as though I hadn't noticed anything odd. "I was just teaching that hippie-dippy bitch back at that gift shop a little lesson. I'll take them back tomorrow and set them in front of her so she can learn what that fucking sign of hers is really worth." He digested that as we walked back to the car. It was odd, but in this light, his hair didn't seem quite as blond, though it did seem longer. We sat quietly, lost in our thoughts, as we drove back to the townhouse. When we pulled into the driveway I glanced over at him. His arms seemed a bit thin and more tanned than they should've been. When we got out of the car, I saw him loop the handle of a small purse over his shoulder in a practiced motion. With a shock, I realized that he had to be a good six inches shorter than he'd been when he got into the car. His hair flowed halfway down his back in a very feminine style. It was getting darker by the second. I stood frozen as I took it in. Holy shit! His shorts had shifted into bikini bottoms. His shapely brown legs were smooth and hairless and his bottom was getting rounder. Everything about him, including the way he moved, was becoming very feminine. A pair of breasts were tenting out the front of his T-shirt were the words, "All I Need Is Coffee & Mascara." had appeared. He walked up to the door and then glanced over his willowy shoulder. The attractive female face looking back at me bore little resemblance to the Lucky I knew. "Well," he said, "are you coming in, or will you stand there with your mouth open?" His...her voice had a silkiness to it that went well with her Spanish accent. Her hair was now raven black and her finger and toenails were painted with a dark sangria-red polish that went perfectly with her complexion. I stood stiffly for a second longer and then rushed forward. "Where are those earrings?" The pocket that they had been in was no longer there. She had just finished unlocking the door and putting the keys back in her purse. That's where they had to be. She turned to me again. Her face wasn't beautiful in that icy supermodel kind of way but she was extremely cute. "What earrings would those be?" I didn't know how to answer. Reality had turned on its head. What if there were no earrings anymore? She gave me a coy look and said, "You mean these?" She pulled back her hair to show me an iridescent earring dangling from her left earlobe. "Um, yeah. I think we need to take those back as quickly as we can." Those large, dark eyes grew narrow beneath long lashes. "What kind of desconsiderado thing is that to do? Do you not think they look good? You buy me a gift and now you want to take them back as soon as I put them on?" Her accent grew thicker with her anger. "Well, I..." My mind rushed as I tried to think of a good answer that would fit with this weird mirror universe but still get the job done. "You would look great in anything. But... now that I think of it, I saw another pair that would look even better on you." She smiled. That was the right answer. "Well, maybe tomorrow I will let you have them after you come up with a good reason why I cannot have both sets." She disappeared through the door. I stood for a few minutes and thought about what I had just seen. A lesser man would be on the ground in a dead faint. I was made of stronger stuff then that, so I took some time to consider my next move. Perhaps I should just hold her down and take the earrings. That would be a real risk. Despite the icy fear that gripped me, I realized that if returning them didn't work, this stunningly sexy girl would hate me forever. I'd be tossing away a perfectly good consolation prize. Still, even I wasn't enough of a Don Juan to not wonder what else the "winds of change" might be up to. No, I had to get those earrings back and extract myself from this little corner of the Twilight Zone. Inside the house, she greeted me with an open bottle of wine and a pair of glasses which she set on the coffee table. This seemed like a good time to try to sweet-talk her into giving up the earrings. I could control myself. I'd been with a lot of beautiful women. I just had to keep telling myself that she used to be a guy, even if she didn't remember it. I sat down next to her and got up close and cozy. She didn't seem to mind. "Listen, Lucky..." "No!" She said. "I have had enough of that est?pido nickname! Call me by my name or do not pinche talk to me at all." I backed off a bit and raised my hands. "Okay, Lola, no more nickname." I wasn't sure where the new name had come from but it was better than... whatever her name had been before. Crap, this was serious. "Anyway, my sweet Lola, about those earri..." "See?" She cut in as she poured the wine. "My name is not so bad, is it?" She handed me a glass. I took a drink. As I sat looking into those eyes, I noted that they were definitely her best feature. Even in T-shirt, she looked incredibly hot with a wine glass in her hand. I should be begging her for the earrings, but we were having a moment here. All I could do was take another drink. Later that evening, after we'd had some more wine, I was still trying to find a way to work the conversation toward the earrings. Then Lola insisted that we both take showers. When you're alone with a sexy woman and she suggests that, you don't say no, though I spent mine kicking myself for not asking her to join me. While she showered, I sat in my housecoat rehearsing lines that would allow me to get the earrings from her without ruining what might be a beautiful friendship with benefits. She came into the living room in a shiny green housecoat. The sight made me instantly hard. Then she let it fall open and I saw what she wore underneath, skimpy red lingerie that matched her nails. What can I say? Whatever she used to be, in this reality she was all woman. We cuddled up together and finished the wine. That shop had probably closed anyway. Besides, if I returned the earrings now and that shifted reality back to the way it was before, I would have blown an incredible opportunity. I didn't even have to work for this one. She was willing, so why couldn't I have my cake and eat it too. Before long, we were all over each other and I was kissing her down her lovely neck. As I reached her shoulders, her top came off and I was kissing her breasts. They were gloriously well proportioned. I found one of her nipples and sucked on it the way I often did with the ladies I seduced. My mouth suddenly filled with warm liquid, the most astonishingly delicious thing I had ever tasted. This was new. The sensation that rippled through my body was mind-blowing, more pleasurable than anything I had ever experienced. From Lola's moan, she was feeling something similar, though it couldn't have been as good. Nothing could have. I drank from one breast and moved on to the other, continuing until I was sated. We both somehow made our way to one of the bedrooms, which one I didn't know or care, and fell asleep in each other's arms. Earrings? What earrings? ZZZZZZ *** End of 1 The next morning I woke up in a king-sized bed in a room I didn't quite recognize. I was naked, so at least I'd taken off my housecoat before falling into bed. I lay there for a while thinking about the incredibly strange experience I'd had the night before. It had been ten times better than any sex, and I'd had my share, yet I hadn't creamed myself. In fact, I had gone limp and it hadn't diminished the pleasure one bit. I got hard thinking about it now and if I kept dwelling on it I suspected that I wouldn't be able to stop myself from ruining the sheets, so I sat up. I surveyed the room and realized that it looked like the master bedroom which Lola, back when she was a guy, used to sleep in. The reality shift had worked its magic on it and it was now filled with many feminine touches, but it also had the look of a room shared by a couple. I climbed out of bed and confirmed that my clothes were here and I wondered about the other room. I checked it out on the way to the bathroom. It looked like a neatly made up guest room. The walls had shifted to a light shade of lavender, which was odd. Another even odder touch was eight Barbie dolls lined up on top of the dresser. After I did my business, I headed for the kitchen where I could smell something cooking. "Good morning, Cari?o," said Lola as I sat down at the counter. "How are you this fine morning?" "Great," I said. She was frying bacon and eggs and it smelled good, but something was off about it. I couldn't put my finger on what. I forgot about that when my eyes locked on to her as she filled our plates. Her hair was haphazardly tied back and she now wore a fluffy pink housecoat, but that didn't matter. Why hadn't I noticed it before? She was unchanged from last night, yet I could now see that she wasn't just cute or attractive, she was the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen, and this despite having done nothing with her makeup. There was no way she wasn't the sexiest, most magnetic woman on the planet. Everything about her was perfect. My eyes remained glued to her as she carried the plates to the counter and set one in front of me along with a glass of orange juice. I had to force myself to look away from her so I could see what I was eating. I took a few bites but found that I could barely get it down. I drank some of the juice, and that was okay, but I couldn't bring myself to put any more of the solid stuff into my mouth. I heard Lola's voice beside me say, "Is there something wrong with it?" "Not a thing," I said. "I just can't seem to swallow any more food." I didn't look up from my plate. I was afraid of what she might think if she saw me staring at her the way I had before. "You are not hungry?" she said. I was starving. "Yeah, but not for this, I guess." This was a problem. I needed to get those earrings from Lola. She was still wearing them. I heard Lola move from her stool. "I know what you need." Actually, that's what I was afraid of. When I heard her fluffy housecoat fall open, I couldn't help but look. She wore nothing underneath it and those perfect, generous breasts called to me. I couldn't even make myself to hesitate. I practically leaped from my stool and shot into her embrace, latching onto a nipple and feeling that delicious goodness flow into me. It was a sensation beyond belief, better than anything in the world and it filled me perfectly. I didn't drink as much this time, nor did I feel sleepy when I was done, I just felt satisfied, complete. It was almost spiritual. As I stood up, I thought it odd that she seemed a bit taller. I took an inventory in my mind. It was amazing how much I actually knew about this person that I'd only, really, just met. Her name was Lola Maria Fernanda Barillas Chairez. She was born in Mexico and was a naturalized citizen. Her family was still well off, though I was pretty sure that she had belonged to a much richer family before. She was twenty-two years old and about five foot, five inches tall, weighing about 120 pounds. This was more than I reasonably should have known. Whatever magic was operating out of that shop had done its work on my friend, but what about me? I was still David William Spence, I was still twenty-five years old, I was still six foot, two inches tall and I weighed... This was getting me nowhere. I glanced over at Lola, who was cleaning up the dishes. She wasn't any taller than before, I was sure of it. Again, I found myself unable to look away from her. I realized that I didn't want What's-His-Name back. I wanted Lola to go on being her stunningly beautiful self. I didn't need a well-connected friend if I had her. I could conquer the world with a woman like that. But I also needed to be able to eat solid food. Sooner or later I would have to address that issue. It occurred to me that, even if I had to find a way to give up feeding from her breasts, there were other, more traditional ways for a man like myself to enjoy the company of such a woman. She had girl parts and I had boy parts and they still fit together just fine. Drinking her milk might be better than fucking but that didn't mean the latter wasn't as fun as it had always been. Now that I was full, I saw no reason why I couldn't take another stab at fulfilling my original intentions from the night before. I was getting hard just thinking about it. When she turned from the dishwasher, I stood up and said, "Don't get dressed yet, sweetheart. We have unfinished business." From my look and tone, there could be no mistaking my intentions. From the look she gave me, it was clear she agreed with my plan. ZZZZZZ *** End of 2 I woke up in the same double bed as before. The clock on the bedside table said 10:53 AM. More than two hours had passed since I had set out to properly consummate my relationship with Lola. Everything had seemed to be going as planned. I'd been as hard as a rock and ready for action and we had gone at each other with a wild passion. The next thing I knew, I was nursing from her breast and my dick was totally deflated. In the ecstasy of that moment, we had both completely forgotten about sex. Well shit! I got up and used the bathroom. My dick seemed a bit shrunken and my aim was off, forcing me to wipe up the floor around the toilet. I tried to pleasure myself, but it refused to get hard. In frustration, I looked at myself in the mirror. My beard was as thick and full as always. A six foot tall, twenty-three-year-old man who could only satisfy himself by suckling from his girlfriend's tits. This was unacceptable. As I stepped out of the bathroom, it occurred to me that I had some business to check online and that would give me focus, something I sorely needed. What it was had slipped my mind, but logging on ought to jog my memory. I found my laptop on the desk in the guestroom. Had it always had stickers of Hello Kitty, Disney princesses and lavender flowers all over it? When I put in my password, PrincessElsa, all I found were educational software and children's games. The browser seemed to be limited by some sort of parental controls that I couldn't figure out how to deactivate and I couldn't open my email at all. This was fucking frustrating. The Barbie dolls on the dresser seemed to be mocking me. In disgust, I decided to sort it out later. I had more immediate problems. I found Lola lounging in the back yard with a book. She had fixed up her hair and makeup and didn't look as though she thought anything was wrong in her world. She glanced up at me and smiled. "How are you doing, mi amor. Did you have a good sleep?" "Come on," I said. "You can do that at the beach." We headed back to the seashore and set up our chairs. I sat next to Lola fuming as I planned my approach to that crazy witch at the gift shop. There was no point in watching the ladies anymore. A gorgeous one, with her husband at her side, pushed a stroller with twin babies past us. A group of pretty ones played beach volleyball not far away. A very lovely young woman was walking a reddish colored dog along the shore. Still, Lola outshined every one of them. I just needed the ability to enjoy all her charms. One thing helped my plan, she was wearing diamond earrings. I had the ones from the shop in the pocket of my shorts. Another thing concerned me, though, in my zeal to get my dick working, I didn't want to get reality shifted back so far that I would lose Lola. I'd just have to employ my considerable negotiating skills. When she decided to go for a swim, I told her I wanted to check out some shops. It was hard for me to walk away from her, but she wasn't bothered about it. She didn't know the stakes. I headed for the boardwalk. I found Tina's Gifts too crowded to carry out my plan, so I browsed for a while. Eventually, as if by magic, the store cleared out and I had a chance to have it out with the proprietor. Her tie-dyed shirt was blue and white this time. She was also wearing one of those fringed leather jackets that hippies and outdoorsy types used to wear. I set the earrings on the counter and said, "I'm not returning these, I'm paying for them." She smiled. "I dig where you're comin' from, but it wouldn't matter anyhow. The timer ran out on that deal around the time you and your best bud were gettin' it on." Her grin grew wider. "You're just gonna have to deal with it now." "And," I said, "by 'deal with it' you mean I'm going to have to drink God-damned breastmilk for the rest of my life?" "Not at all. No one just drinks milk their whole life. That would be pretty lame." "Then how long do I have to put up with this shit?" "When you're weaned ain't up to me, man. You shouldn't go stealing someone's merch." "Is there no way we can come to an understanding? I've learned my lesson." She looked at me as if she saw right through me. "I doubt that. However, I do have some rope to make judgment calls. Running this shop is a bit of a promotion from my previous gig. So lay it on me and make it real." "Look," I said in my most pleading tone, "I'll give you whatever you want for the earrings, I don't care how much. I have plans. I still have my whole life ahead of me." "That's truer than you think." "Is there nothing I can do to redeem myself?" She seemed to soften a bit. "Maybe, but I'm not so sure the dude who walked in here yesterday could be redeemed. We'll see." "I'll do whatever you ask." I hated myself for talking this way. "I'll be a changed man." "You got that right." Now I wasn't sure just how to put this, so I took a stab at it. "But I think Lola is better off the way she is." "I'm down with that." This seemed promising. "So can we make a deal? Maybe let this whole drinking from her...ah..." "Boobs?" "Yes, that. Could we have that at least be optional?" She smiled knowingly. "Enjoying the drinkies, are you? Better than free love." "I'm willing to give that up if we can make a deal." "Okay," she said. "Here's the deal. You'll have to 'turn on, tune in and drop out.'" "What?" "Drop out of college, man. Give up those humongous plans, get with the vibe and go fill the big hole in you by doing humanitarian work and do it real. If you try a fake out I'll know and you'll be even worse off. Also, if you ever drug or abuse another woman you'll be even worse off than that." "Humanitarian work?" This had to be a sick joke. She became a bit grimmer. "The only way you leave this town as you entered it is if you help others instead of yourself. You're a dangerously talented man, Mr. Spence, normally just a shark in a school of sharks, but your particular schemes are an existential threat to the future." "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" "It's the butterfly effect, big dude. You're like a stone dropped in a pond. The ripples you make will turn the whole world onto the road to wreck and ruin. We can't allow that, now can we?" I could not believe what I was hearing. "This is a fucking farce! The butterfly effect is random. Neither you nor whoever 'we' is could possibly know all that!" "Just like your best chum couldn't possibly be a sweet Latina that you can't suck enough from?" My face grew hot. "I could find other ways to enjoy her," I said through clenched teeth, " if I could get hard. It won't go up at all now." She guffawed. "Your whole future's at stake and you're freakin' about your boner? You got bigger problems than a limp cucumber, Mr. Romeo. "This is ludicrous!" I could barely hold back from punching her. "Just because you set up some stupid bullshit trap doesn't mean you have the right to demand that I give up everything I've worked my whole life for. Do you really think you have it on me because of some petty theft? You're full of shit! It's nothing, zero, zilch!" Her eyes turned to flint. "Nothing? You stole my merchandise." I slammed my credit card on the counter. "I'll pay for that a hundredfold! You will put an end to this now! No refugee from all that 1960s peace-and-love horseshit, who couldn't possibly have been alive when it was happening, is going to stop me from fulfilling my destiny! I've humped and dumped better-looking girls then you by the dozen. Why can't we just make a deal here and have done with it?" She slid off her stool and stood up. She was surprisingly tall. "No deal. You just blew it, bucko." "I can't believe that. Everyone has a price. I think you're just..." "I think you need to blow," she said. "I think you wanna leave real bad because you can't stand to be here or see my face. I think you need to find Lola, like pronto, and do whatever she tells you because she has a functioning conscience." "What the hell are you talking abo..." The horror seized me. It would have been easier to gnaw on a maggot filled corpse than stand there an instant longer. I had to fight the urge to vomit. I almost bowled over a passing family as I rushed out onto the boardwalk and ran toward the beach. The chairs were empty. The sensible thing would've been to plop down in one and wait for Lola, but I couldn't bear not seeing her. Frantically, I scanned about and spotted her coming out onto the beach. This was good. If she'd still been in the water, I probably would've plunged in, wallet, phone and all. I ran to her and gave her a massive hug. I didn't care that she was dripping wet. "Oh David, mi beb?," said Lola. "It has not been so long, has it?" I realized that tears were flowing down my face. I was a twenty-one-year- old man who was almost six feet tall and 195 pounds and I was crying like a baby. "I'm... I'm okay." This was too weird, I had to think fast. "I guess I was just having a flashback to the day my parents were killed." People do that, right? She held onto me tighter. "Oh mi querido ni?o! It will be alright." It felt so good to be hugged like this despite the horror of what had just happened. I had to figure a way out of this. Then I realized that I'd left the earrings back in the shop. Maybe if I sent Lola in there and told her what to say... An iridescent earring glinted from one of her earlobes. She was wearing them again. The magic of the abominable gift shop had struck again. For the rest of that afternoon, I could hardly bring myself to let her out of my sight long enough to use the bathroom where I was so shaken that I had to sit to piss. I couldn't bring myself to even look in the direction of that shop. We got some ice cream cones. I could eat the ice cream, but I had to toss the cone. Later that afternoon, when we got home, I found that I could stand to let her out of my sight as long as she was in the house. That evening she made herself a sandwich and then sat down and took off her top. The moment I took in the sight, it was as if I lost all voluntary control. I was on my knees between her legs and we were embracing each other as I eagerly fed. I found, as ecstasy flowed through me, that all my thoughts and worries evaporated away and all I knew was warmth and pleasure. This was beyond addictive. Afterward, I set drowsily on the couch and considered what it meant that Lola didn't even seem to think anything was odd. Sure, I understood that her memories were altered and she now remembered a very different life, I could barely picture what she looked like as a man myself, but how was it she didn't think it strange to be breastfeeding a twenty-year-old. "I do not like that beard," said Lola suddenly. "I don't like how it feels when you feed." "What?" I said. "I'd rather keep it. I look better with it." "I disagree," she said. She got up and went down the hall, coming back with a beard trimmer. "Let me remove it." I wanted to say no, but I couldn't. She put a towel over my lap to catch the hair and shaved my beard down to stubble. Then she told me to take a hot shower. The first thing I did in the bathroom was to check out my di...penis. It seemed to be even smaller than before and no matter how much I rubbed it or how much I pictured the most erotic thing I could think of, Lola naked, it stayed limp. Da...darn that hippie bi...chick! She was going to fu...flipping pay for this. In the shower, I was soaping down my right arm when I noticed the tattoo that ringed my bicep, an interweaving pattern of lavender flowers, just wash away as if it'd been applied with watercolors. When I turned off the water, I realized that I'd been crying again. That dumb, stupid gul-darn lady, she was going to get hers. When I stepped out of the shower, she came into the bathroom and applied some shaving gel to my face and, using my razor, shaved it all away. After she dried off my face, I found that she had just given me the smoothest shave I'd ever had. I couldn't feel any traces stubble. We sat down to watch some television that evening and ended up watching some sort of Mexican soap opera. Lola had said we should watch it, so that's what we did. Despite the fact that I couldn't understand any of it, I still enjoyed it. Lola had said, "You will watch it and you will like it," and I did. Just another bit of weirdness in a very weird day. When Lola said it was time for bed, I complained that it was too early. She insisted that we go anyway and so I had to. That was okay because it felt wonderful to cuddle, even if I couldn't get it up. That reminded me that I was in the arms of the most dazzlingly sexy woman on the planet and I couldn't make love to her like I wanted to. It didn't bother her any, in fact, I don't think it even crossed her mind. Thinking about this was so upsetting that I fidgeted until she finally told me to go to sleep. I don't remember anything after that. ZZZZZZ *** End of 3 I greeted the morning in Lola's arms. I felt so safe and happy. We didn't even get out of bed before she nursed me, which was a delightful way to start the day. After she was finished in the bathroom, I got up and checked out my face, discovering that it was just as smooth as the night before. I felt a little bad about that. I was seventeen and should've had some stubble. Besides, this long hair that kept falling in front of my eyes made me look girly. I sat down to pee, washed up and went to get dressed. I put on a lavender T-shirt with a pink teddy bear on it and skinny jeans that went very well with my powder blue sneakers. I was ready to go out and tackle my problems. My wallet didn't fit in my too-tight pocket so I put it, along with my phone, into a little purse I'd found. It must've been one of Lola's. For some reason, the lavender flower pattern on it really appealed to me. It was just so cute. I figured I could get away with carrying it if I didn't draw too much attention to myself. I sat on the bed for a few minutes and thought about how I could get my old solid-food-eating self back. I had obviously blown it at the shop. I figured, though, that if I could convince Lola to go back there and pay for the earrings, maybe there was a chance she could sweet-talk that terrifying woman into looking at me in a kinder way. I knew it was a longshot, but it was all I had. I racked my brain for the words I should try to get her to say. Once I had something worked out, I headed for the kitchen. I found Lola cleaning up after her breakfast and decided this was a good time to try my plan. "So, like anyway, you know that shop where I got you those earrings? I think I might have forgotten to pa..." "Oh, forget about that for now, I need to go shopping. You may eat here," she tapped her chest, "but I need groceries." I felt a rising sense of panic and said, "Can I come?" "Of course, Mi peque?o Davy." Relief flooded through me. I couldn't stand the thought of being separated from her. I wondered why. There was something I'd been thinking about, but I couldn't remember what it was. That was okay because I was going shopping with Lola. Even with her hair tied in a ponytail, wearing a plain blouse and black leggings, she was still the most totally beautiful sight in the whole world. She really made the look with a pair of metallic gold stiletto sandals which went perfectly with her jewelry. They were not really the most appropriate shoes for shopping, but they were stunningly gorgeous on her. I was a little jealous, though I couldn't understand why. Mostly, I felt content. Just looking at her made me calm and happy. Before we left, she insisted on tying my long, black hair into a ponytail exactly like hers. I protested that it wasn't manly, but she told me not to worry about it. Anyway, it would get my hair out of my face and show off my cute earrings with the purple stones. I almost wished I could have shoes like hers, but banished that thought. As she did up my hair, I realize that we were the same height. Wasn't I supposed to be taller? I knew that she was five foot, five while I was five foot, five... No that wasn't right, I was closer to five foot, four. So I was actually totally flattering myself to think I was even as tall as she was. Something didn't seem right about that, but I was still going shopping with Lola so everything was great. I was very self-conscious at the grocery store. Lola said I could push the cart, which was a relief because that kept me near her and I was afraid I'd look very clingy to onlookers without that excuse. "Mi Davy," said Lola as she picked through some fresh tomatoes. "Is something bothering you?" "Nothing," I said, though my body language surely said otherwise. "Do not try that with me. Tell me what is bothering you." "I feel totally funny because I'm afraid to let you out of my sight and I get scared when I can't see you. Other people might notice this and think I'm a weak mama's boy and I don't like that because I'm afraid that it's true. I'm confused and frightened because don't know why I'm that way or why I feel so tiny. I think I'm supposed to be, like, big and manly or something." I knew being big was a distant dream. I was only about 105 pounds soaking wet, though I couldn't remember the last time I'd weighed myself. "Oh ni?o tonto," said Lola, "you worry too much about what people think. No one is looking funny at you. You should not worry about what might happen. From now on you must live in the present." That makes sense. I feel relief because I'm not worried about what other people think anymore. Lola gets me a bottle of cola as a treat. I can drink that. I think I could enjoy a chocolate bar too; if I let it melt in my mouth. When we get home, I help her put the groceries away and then she says, "Now, Davy, your room is a mess. It needs to be cleaned up." "But it looks fine," I say, "I have everything where I want it." "No. It looks like a pigsty and you should be ashamed." Shame washes through me until I can't look at her anymore. "Now," she says, "go and clean it up and organize it properly." I go to my room and start picking clothes off the floor and organizing things. As I throw dirty clothes into the laundry basket, I realize that I'm having a hard time remembering making them dirty in the first place. I think about it and the memories come to me and I stop worrying. After my noon feeding, we spend the afternoon in the yard. Our bungalow isn't very big but we have a good size yard, a garage for our old used crossover and a big garden that needs to be weeded. When Lola says the garden needs weeding I groan. She then says, "You will weed the garden and you will enjoy it." I have a great time weeding the garden. By evening, I'm pooped and happy to take a bath. As I lay in the water, I notice that my penis looks awfully small. I'm fourteen and my wiener is no thicker than my little finger and half the length and I have thin, fine-boned fingers. I'm pretty sure it should be bigger. Also, shouldn't there be something in the tiny split sack under it? I'll have to ask Lola-ma about that. I forget all about it, though, when I see her on the couch with her maternity bra open. My noon feeding was just a sip and I'm ravenous. I get lost in drinking my fill of the warm goodness. It satisfies and fills me and I feel complete contentment. After she's finished eating her own meal and we sit down to watch some TV, I turned to her and say, "Mama, like, how come my pee-pee is so tiny?" She smiles and says, "For Dios sake, what a silly question. Do not worry about such things." I cuddle up with her and watch the soap operas that don't make much sense but I like them because she likes them. After we're done watching, she says, "Come, Maria, let me do your hair so we can go to bed." Mama braids my hair and I put my nightie on and climb into bed with her. I know that I should be sleeping in my own bed. I'm almost fourteen, but I need to be with her. Besides, she's always calling me "Mi peque?a ni?a," and I think that means "my big boy," so it's fine. ZZZZZZ *** End of 4 The next morning, after I suckle from Mama, she does my hair and gives me a pretty lavender dress to put on while she goes and does her own hair and makeup. At first, I'm reluctant, though I'm not sure why. Wearing it makes me feel like a princess. While Mama is eating her breakfast and reading a Spanish-language newspaper, I go to my room and play some fun games on my computer. I get some notifications from an email program I totally don't remember using before. I look at them, but they're just full of numbers and junk I don't understand so I deleted them. Still, there is something about them that seemed sort of familiar and that bothers me. I sit down on my bed with my frilly dress spread around me and look at the top of the dresser where my Barbies are lined up in their own frilly dresses with lavender trim that Mama added. I have a blonde American one, an African one, a Japanese one, a Caribbean one, a Polynesian one, a Native American one, a Ukrainian one and a Latina one that looks like Mama. Still, something doesn't seem right. Aren't I supposed to be a boy? I feel down there. No, I'm definitely a total girl and I'm real excited that I'm showing the first signs of puberty. I remember experimenting with Mama's makeup and trying to look all grown up and stuff. Then the wrongness of that memory hits me. I think harder. I'm eleven years old and yet I'm still being breastfed and I totally love it. Isn't that wrong? Why does it feel so good? How come other girls my age are eating cake and churros and empanadas and hamburgers and tacos and quesadillas and macaroni and enchiladas and spaghetti and chilaquiles and pizza and tamales and I can't remember eating any of that stuff, yet I do somehow remember it. There's a mystery here. Something about a shop leaks into my mind. Yeah, some sort of gift shop down on the boardwalk. A memory flashes up of Mama saying, "...forget about that for now... for now." That's the loophole. Time is up on that order. With the memory of the shop comes other memories, bits and pieces of them anyway. It all seems disjointed and confusing but one thing is clear. I was a grown man before and Mama was a man too, I think. Something happened at that shop that changed us. I realize something else too. I'm getting younger instead of older. I'm not entering puberty, I am backing out of it. I'm not sure, but I think this might be the first time that I've noticed it. It's awfully scary and I have to find a way out of this before I end up in preschool or diapers or worse. I can't go back to that gift shop, the very thought of it makes me recoil in terror. What else can I do? Mama can order me to do anything. Her commands are magic. The shop had to be responsible for that somehow. Another flash of memory comes to me: "...you need to find Lola, like pronto, and do whatever she tells you..." I find it impossible to picture the one who said that. She must be a monster that will kill me if I see her, but this confirms that Mama's words are magic. Could she order me to grow up instead of down? Could she order me to be a man again? Could she order me to become a dog or a toad or even one of my Barbies? Turning me into a doll would be the same as killing me. I'm sure there's something here I can use, but I have to be very careful. Maybe if I had all my memories and not just this confusing dreamy stuff, I could plan better. I can't even remember my old name. All I know is that I'm Maria Fernanda Josefina Hernadez. That last name came from my Papa. Mama divorced him after a really short marriage. Those are fake memories and I'm certain that the longer I sit here, the more of my real ones will float away like little lavender clouds. If I can just figure out a way to get Mama to give me the right command. It'll be tricky and dangerous but something tells me that the old me was a risk taker. As I walk into the kitchen, Mama looks up from her newspaper. "Oh mi ni?a hermosa," she says, "Why are you just wearing underwear? Where is your dress?" I look down in seeming confusion. "Oh," I say, "I just, like, wanted to change into my panties with the cute flowers on them. I guess I forgot to put my dress back on." She shakes her head and says, "Ni?a tonta." Before she can order me to, which would spoil everything, I say, "I'll just go put my dress on." I head back the way I came. A few minutes later I walk back into the kitchen and Mama says, "What now? Where is your dress?" I look down, again in fake confusion. "Oh darn," I say. "I decided to switch to my pink panties and I totally forgot about the dress again." "What is wrong with you today? Is your mind going?" I go back and do the same thing again with my lavender panties. This time, she comes out with a stream of Spanish that seems to go on for a solid minute before saying, "Shall I take you to the doctor to have your head scanned?" I shake my head and say, "It's no big deal Mama. So I'm being a little forgetful. You don't want me to remember, like, everything, do you?" "Of course I do!" I say, "Are you saying I have to remember everything?" "Yes! You must remember everything. Now go put your dress on." I rush back to my room as it all starts to flood into my mind. I'm barely aware that I'm putting on my dress, as ordered, while so many memories pour in and reorganize themselves. This worked way better than I thought it would. I sit down on the bed to think about things, again with my dress spread around me. I now have two parallel sets of memories, one set for Maria Fernanda Josefina Hernadez and one for David William Spence. I was twenty-six years old when this started. The person I used to be was friends with a fellow who had a really dumb name, Lord, so I called him Lucky. Now he's a she and she's my Mama. I remember all the stuff adult- guy me knew, how proud he was to be so greedy and selfish, what he and Lucky looked like, everything. The thing is, that doesn't change the fact that I'm still eleven-year-old Maria Fernanda. I don't think like David, I think like me and I'm not him anymore. Do I want to be? He had all kinds of knowledge from his college education that makes me dizzy when I think too hard about it with my child-brain. Also, my mind recoils from the memories of what it felt like to be a man having sex with a woman. It's just so totally disgusting. I climb off the bed and go to the mirror and consider my reflection. The person staring back at me is a very cute little brown-skinned Hispanic girl in a frilly lavender dress. Metallic purple clips keep my hair out of my huge brown eyes as it flows down my back. I somehow know that I'm going to be every bit as beautiful as Mama someday. I want that. I don't want to be a big smelly man with his stupid beard and all those nasty, grabby plans. He was mean to women like Mama. He sometimes put stuff in their drinks so they would be sleepy and he could do awful things to them. The memory is sickening and my mind withdraws from it. Then a cheerful thought comes to me. As long as I exist then David is gone as if he never lived. Maybe all the bad things he did will be gone like they never happened. Maybe his parents will have had a nicer kid that grew up to be sad when they were killed. Maybe that butterfly effect will happen and they won't have to be dead at all. It isn't rational, but something seems to reassure me that that is how it will be and I feel much better. Suddenly, I realize that I'm now ten years old and not eleven anymore. I've just crossed another boundary. When will it stop, when I'm a zygote? Another realization comes to me: when my age changed, Mama went from thirty-one to thirty, which is strange because I had thought she was twenty-two. My eyes grow wide. She is twenty-two and thirty at the same time because twenty-two is too young to be my mama right now. Her age has become like Schr?dinger's cat as long as I keep getting younger. My child-brain spins as it tries to grasp this strange paradox. If I really want to grow up to be like Mama, this needs to stop. Time is slipping away and I need a plan. I wonder if I can figure out how to make liquid meals so I don't need to feed from Mama. Maybe, if I do that, I can grow up and even eat real food again. I try to think up more plans, that might help, but my mind keeps wandering. If I could just grow up again, I could be like Princess Elsa only with darker skin and black hair. With that thought, I go to my computer and watch Frozen for both the first and the hundredth time. I'm entranced and forget about everything else. After that, I'm not any closer to a solution but it's getting harder to care as much about it. At noon, Mama opens her blouse and her maternity bra. I stare at it for what seems like a full second before I throw myself at her breast and am lost in the bliss of the yummy, goodness. I feel floaty and bubbly inside. In the afternoon we put on our bathing suits and get ready for the beach. Mama is looking so elegant in a red string bikini and I'm wearing a one- piece in the same color with lavender butterflies on it. I like the butterflies. Lavender is a kind of purple and it's my favorite color in the whole wide world because it's so pretty. Mama paints my finger and toenails the same as hers, which is so cool. When we get to the beach, Mama sets up an umbrella and her folding chair and sits with a romance novel in Spanish. If Lucky could only see himself now. The thought makes me want to run and throw my arms around Mama and hold onto her. I'm still scared to let her out of my sight. I knew it's stupid but I can't fight it. This reminds me of my getting-younger problem and makes me sad again. I grab the plastic pail and shovel that I brought from home and start digging and making a sandcastle while I think. Every now and then, I find myself glancing in the direction of that shop on the boardwalk. A shudder goes through me every time and I need to look at Mama for comfort. I feel trapped. I don't know what to do. If I could just stay the way I am, and not shrink anymore, I could be happy. The memories of the old me seem unreal, like a dream. They're sort of fuzzy when I think about them. A cluster of a half-dozen little girls walks up to me. Some grownup women are sitting on beach blankets nearby. I suppose that's their moms. The biggest one says, "Hi." "Hi," I say while I continue to dig. "Whatcha doing?" "I'm diggin' and stuff." The smallest one boldly walks up to me and puffs out her stomach as she says, "I'm Kaylee. I'm five. What's your name?" "I'm Maria." Then I add for good measure, "I'm ten." The oldest one says, "I'm Chloe and I'm eight. I bet you're not really ten " "Am too," I say. "Well, I'm almost ten." "You don't look bigger than me," says Chloe. "That's 'cause I'm a kinda little for my age." I realize that it's true as I stand up next to Chloe. I know I'm almost ten, but she's as big as me. My memories of Dave seen even more far away. I think I'm forgetting stuff again. I wonder if I should get Mama to make me remember more. "My daddy took Chris and Kyle to the woods," says Kaylee. "Where's your daddy?" "He moved away," I say. I don't think she would understand divorce. It doesn't mean much to me either. I know the memory is pretend, unless it isn't anymore. Still, I remember Papa and I miss him. "Our dads have taken our brothers camping," clarifies Chloe, "except for Riley's dad. She only has a baby sister. You wanna play with us?" I look at the clump of expectant girls. I want to play with them. "Okay," I say. And off we go into the water splashing and screaming. I learn the names of the four other girls in the group. There's Madelyn. She's seven but she's almost as big as Chloe. There's Riley. She's also seven but she's smaller. There's Mia. She's six. She's black. Her hair is all tiny braids and colored beads. It's pretty. Also, there's Lily. She's five. She's bigger than Kaylee. This is fun. I know old me would be bored with splashing around like this, one game quickly changing to another with no plan, just little girls pretending to be dolphins and then mermaids and then princesses and then some get to be mommies and some get to be babies. Sometimes we break up into different groups and then mix back together. We dig in the sand some. We kick a blowup ball around and then jump back into the water splashing and screaming some more. I feel free. I don't care what time it is. I just want to play with my new friends and never stop. I look over and see Mama visiting with the other moms. That should keep her busy, talking about grownup stuff. Riley comes up to me and says, "Are you Afucan-'merican like Mia?" "No," I say. "You're almost as brown as she is." "Mama is from Mexico and Papa is from Texas," I say. "We're Hispanic." Riley becomes serious. "Are you a my-grunt? Daddy says my-grunts are bad and we need to build a wall to keep them out." "She's not a migrant," says Madelyn. "She's too little to be a drug dealer and everyone knows that migrants are drug dealers. Her mom might be a migrant, though." "She is not," I say. "She's a naturalized citizen." "A nachulized citizen?" says Riley. "Yeah," I say, "a legal immigrant who got citizenship. She took an oath and everything." "Oh," says Mia. "I heard of immigrants. My uncle Petey says they have the right to let white people stop them from voting." "What's voting?" asks Lily. "That's where grown-ups get to pick who makes all the laws and stuff," says Chloe. "But that's stupid and boring so let's go be mermaids some more." We cheer and follow her into the water. Chloe takes the lead in our games. She's real smart and pretty. She has pink nail polish and a pink bracelet to go with her pink swimsuit. Her ponytail is tied with a pink scrunchie. She has blonde hair, like gold, and blue eyes that are so blue. Mama comes and say's it's time to go home. I don't want to. Then she tells me that the other moms will be coming to our house for a barbecue. She says that all the girls will be there so I'm excited. I get to show off. I know Chloe is so cool but I know lots of stuff she doesn't because I can sort of remember stuff Davy used to know. I'm so eager to see her and all my friends some more that I don't care about anything else. As we drive back home, I tell Mama about the fun I had and how much fun it was to be a dolphin and a mermaid and stuff. I'm glad the boys are all camping. I can remember a little of what old-me was like as a boy and I don't want anyone like that ruining our fun. When we get home, Mama takes off her bikini top and I climb up onto her knee and slide forward. Mama puts her arms around me and I hug her as hard as I can and suckle. The warm, yumminess fills me up and makes me forget everything except I'm safe and happy. After I'm done, mama says I should leave my bathing suit on so we can run through the sprinkler and have water fights. I dance with joy at the thought. It's funny how much lighter I feel after feeding. I think maybe mama looks taller again but I don't care about it. I'm too excited to see my friends again. I hurry to use the potty before they come. Soon the other moms are here with the girls and I can hardly stand still, I'm so happy. I can't wait to show off my room and all my dolls. They're going to be so jealous. I meet another girl, Riley's little sister who stayed with her mommy at the beach. Her name is Ivy. She's shy but I want her to be part of the group so I say, "Hi Ivy, how old are you?" She continues to suck on her soother as she holds up two fingers. "Wow," I say, "You're big." She pulls out her soother and says, "How owd aw you?" "I'm seven." I feel small. Both Madelyn and Riley, the other seven-year-olds, are bigger than I am. Even Mia is a little bigger than me and she's only six. I have a memory of Mama weighing me on a scale and saying I'm forty pounds. In the memory, I thought that was big, but now I don't know if it is. I show the girls my room and all my toys. We play with my dolls for a while. There is one of each of us. Even Ivy gets one to play with. They have dresses that are trimmed with the prettiest purple in the whole world, which Mama says is called lavanda. I love lavanda the most of all. I keep looking at Chloe, hoping she'll be impressed because she's smart and mature and pretty and I want to be just like her because she's so cool. Later while the grown-ups are barbecuing, we run through the sprinklers and chase each other around with pails of water and squirt guns. It's fun and I try to get Chloe but she's too big and fast for me. After that, we eat hamburgers. The other girls eat hamburgers and I pretend to nibble mine until Mama comes and sneaks it away so everyone'll think I finished it. I have to spit out the bits I nibbled because I can't swallow them. That makes me mad at that stupid lady in the shop, but I don't really want to stop suckling from Mama. After that, we play tag but the only ones I can catch our Kaylee and Ivy. I remind myself that I'm really smart because I can remember being a great big grownup man named Daisy. Anyway, I'm bigger than Ivy, because she's only two and I'm almost five. Later, while all the mommies sit around the fire, us girls watch a princess show on TV. Ivy isn't there, she's sitting on her mommy's lap. The channel is one that Chloe picked out and it's fun. We also watch a cartoon about some ponies. Then we watch another cartoon about three little girls with superpowers. Then Chloe says we have to watch this cartoon about more girls with superpowers only they're called sailors. There's a kitty in it. I'm having a hard time understanding it and I miss Mama, so I go look for her. All the mommies are still around the fire talking about stuff. Ivy is taking a nap on her mommy's lap. She looks real comfortable so I go to Mama and climb onto her lap so I can listen to the grown-ups. One of the mommies is talking."... He told me it was going to cost eight hundred dollars to get it fixed. Carl told me that you really need to be careful and get a second opinion..." They keep talking about boring stuff, but I feel safe on Mama's lap. I try to listen so I can feel grown up but I don't understand most of it and I'm tired, so I put my thumb in my mouth for comfort. ZZZZZZ *** End of 5 I wake up and my thumb is still in my mouth so I suck on it some more. Mama stands up and is holding me in one arm and saying to one of the mommies, "Thank you for coming. It has been so nice getting akwainted with all of you. We just moved into the nayborhood a few munths ago and now it feels like home. "Don't menshun it," said a mommy, "I'm sure you'll be a grate adishun to the asoseeaashun. It seems like half the peephole moving here are imigrints these days so I'm sure you'll fit interifiklee." Mama carries me into the house where all the other mommies and the girls are saying goodbye. I wiggle and say "Down, Mama. Wanna say bye-bye to my fwends." When Mama puts me down. I run to the girls, but then I'm shy and I suck my thumb. Chloe comes up to me and hunches down and says, "Thank you for your hospitalatee. It's been nice playing with you,skwert." I like her lots so I pull my thumb out and smile and say, "Bye-bye. Peez come 'gen so we ca pway mow." Ivy gives me a hug. I like that because I'm almost as big as she is. As they go away, I stand in the door and wave as hard as I can and say, "Bye Kwoe! Bye Madiwyn! Bye Wiwey! Bye Mia! Bye Wiwy! Bye Kaywee! Bye Iwy! Bye Mommies!" I'm so happy because I can remember all their names. After they're all gone, Mama starts to clean up. The back door is open so I go out. I look for the fire. There's no more fire. There's lots of black with smoke coming out. Mama picks me up. "No Bebita," she says, "that's hot. No touch!" I try to say I was just looking at it, but I cry. She rocks me and carries me into the house. I stop crying because I like it when she rocks me. She sits me down on the floor with some toys. The floor doesn't feel hard because I have lots of softness on my bottom. Mama walks away but I don't like it. "No Mama," I say, "Up, up." I raise my arms. "Mama 's busy," she says. "Stay there." A voice I don't like comes in my head. "Don't be bummed little sprout but you're almost there. I think you're turning out groovy. Have a good life and don't be evil this time." I climb up onto my feet and stamp them because I'm mad. I think as hard as I can so I can say, "No! Bad! Not asposta be little. Aposta bebig. Not wight! Nowight!" Mama's expression softens and she picks me up and walks over to the couch. I hit at her and say, "No! No! Gota beach! Find sop a boawdwa... boaw... beech! Needta makeawbettow! " Mama sits down and puts me on the couch next to her while she opens up her front and reaches for her bra. "No Mama. Needta fix. Nedtafik! Dunwonabeebaybee!" Mama stops opening her bra and says, "Wut iz rong, mi ni?a peque?a?" I tell her what we need to do. "Finladee! Mabeto! Mama shakes her head and talks soothing. "No!" I say, "Badwagadabwo!" I try to stand up but forget how and fall down. I cry. Mama coos and sets me up so I sit. I sniffle and say, "Ogobawuukup." Mama smiles and suddenly disappears! Where did she go? "Mama!" I say. All I see are her hands. Her hands go apart and she is back and talks. "Peekaboo!" I squeal and giggle because I see her and it's funny. She disappears again. I watch the hands because that's where she came back before. I hear her voice, "Wairs Mama? Wair iz shee?" I look around. I can hear her but I can't see her. I look back at the hands. The hands go apart and Mama comes back and talks. "Peekaboo!" I squeal and laugh more. She does it again. I laugh more. She does it more. I giggle. She does it more. I giggle lots and lots. She talks with happy voice. I feel happy. I am safe and calm. I tell Mama all about everything, "Mama, dabadabagowabbagombaba. Ba! Ba!" She smiles. I smile because I like that. She opens her front and picks me up. I am hungry so I get my mouth on a nipple. The yummy warm goodness goes in my mouth and fills me. I am love and happy. ZZZZZZ *** End of 6 In soft-dark with Mama. Feel bad-squishy on bottom. Smell it. Cry. Mama sits up. Mama talks with nice-happy-voice. Safe. Mama carries to big-comfy-sit. Feel the squish-stinky go away from bottom. Warm-wet goes over bottom. Giggle, smile, squeal. Go, "Bababababababababa." Mouth makes bubbles. Get new puffiness. Mama sits on the big-comfy-sit. Mama picks up. Mama rocks. Mama talks with nice-happy-voice. Safe, love, joy. Mama opens front. See big-softs. Wiggle for happy. Suckle goes in mouth. Fill with yummy-goodness. Mama fills. Mama is warm-safe. Love, love Mama. Filled. Safe, happy, good. *** End of 7 *** The Beginning.