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.. and getting better every second ... my ... umm ... doesn't care she's my sister, no more than I care you're married to my dad ... I get hard ... I'll get hard ... it's part of growing."This was my two past lives speaking ... the teen was turning red and trying to conceal the rampant member ... three of me in this body was getting crowded. My old brain knew what was going on ... my young body couldn't stop it ... didn't want to stop it ... couldn't wait to sink that pole into warm hot soft grasping fluttery ... accident in my pants.Lucy Lou saw the spreading stain. There was a sudden smell of woman. She blushed bright red and fled the room. I heard her shout, "Charles! Charles! I need you! Now!" Lucile Louise what has come over you..."The bedroom door slammed. Seconds ... well ... minutes ... daddy didn't have teenage hormones or instant recovery ... the bed headboard started banging the wall.Wicked Stepmom hollered out... "Grace, David, wear warm clothes! Charles William Austin! I. For the first time in his life he felt a "control" that he had not previously experienced. He could be "Alice" as often as he liked. His wife had even been helpful in establishing her existence but he knew Alan. Alan controlled "Alice". He had thought for sometime that his wife controlled "Alice". He realized that he wanted "Alice" to be but did not want to give up Alan's masculinity. He had the best of both worlds and his wife in her own way had helpedhim to see the possibilities. Alan realized the way he would get pregnant was to have a date. He knew it would be one that his wife arranged and he wasn't sure exactly how it would turn out but he knew it was the next step in his progression. For Alan the "periods" continued. Each month with disheartened acceptance he found "pads" in Alice's dresser drawer. Again he added a fresh supply to his briefcase and longed for "next month". Alan was having a particularly bad day. He had begun to understand what.
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She said nothing about the note but she had a slight smirk, I thought. When we finished the wine I went into the kitchen to get some more. Although it was red I was after, I opened the fridge out of curiosity. She had written on my note. I picked it up and saw in a neat, swirly hand, “How old are you?” I took the wine through and Carol said, “No dessert, I’m afraid. Shall we go into the sitting room? This room’s very nice with all the light, but it’s cold, isn’t it?” The sitting room was indeed warmer and more comfortable. It was full of furniture: settee suites, leather armchairs, footstools and a long wooden coffee table. Carol sat on the big sofa and I joined her there. We sat in silence for a moment and then she said, “Cryptic notes in the fridge, eh?” “Well, I have,” I replied. “You have what?” “Always wanted to pull your pants down. When I used to see you on the beach.” “You were in love with Stella Sims,” she said. “Infatuated,” I said in my defence. “But I used to lust after.

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