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In fact, his entire body felt strange . . . different somehow.He was finally able to forced his eyes open to see his wife, Maggie, hovering over him. Her face was aghast, with a mixture of horror and confusion."W-who are y-you?" she was able to blurt out. "W-where is my husband? Why are you wearing his pajamas?" Odd questions, wondered Harry. What was she talking about? Harry open his mouth to speak, but the instant that he did, he knew that something was seriously wrong."What are you talking about, Honey? I am your husband . . . Harry?" His voice was extremely high, soft and sweet. It was the voice of a . . . . ."Little girl? This isn't the least bit humorous. If this is a joke, it isn't funnyat all. Now tell me where Harry is."Harry tried to it up, but his pajamas hung on him like a sack. Long blonde hair ell into his eyes and face."I'm not a little girl, Maggie. I'm really your husband!" Harry insisted, although it sounded exactly like a whining child. Just then, Mark, who had. "---The rest of the day went normally enough. I had some schoolwork to do, I spent a little time with some friends over at our teen club. It was awkward being around my stepmother, although everything was perfectly proper between us. The image of her naked body and her calmness as she spoke to me and then turned to leave the bathroom that morning was still very bright and clear in my head. But she continued acting as if it had never happened, and I had to take my cue from her. It had been an accident after all, I kept reminding myself. I should just be happy I'd gotten to see her like that! What an amazing, surprising, wonderful treat! Not everyone had a pretty and sexy young stepmother like Emilie, I reminded myself, and smart and thoughtful too! I again congratulated myself on my good fortune at getting to live with her and my father.Supper was just with me, Emilie and my sisters; my father wouldn't be back until the next day. Guard duty like that wasn't uncommon; at least.
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Shocked, and a little surprised, you turn to see if the assholes across the hall learned how to pick the locks. Instead, standing in the doorway was Lucy and she looked awful. The short skirt and tight shirt she had bought specifically to impress Keith on their date tonight was soaked from the rain. Her long hair was wet as well and it dropped down in front of her face, almost obscuring her downcast eyes. You guess it was probably intention after you see how red and puffy her eyes look. She must have been crying; her face was wet but it could be the rain just as well as it could be tears. A spark of rage surges through your body. This was Keith's fault and you knew it. She probably ran back over from Keith's apartment in the rain. You momentarily wondered why she didn't call you, but it was easy to realize. She never did like you to see when she cried. She always hated feeling weak in front of you. Eventually she lifted her gaze, looking at you. She was doing her best to stay strong,.

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