He said he hoped I found a smart man who respected me and cared, the one. I thought Richard would be the one. I was attracted to him, he seemed smart ...ith all of the things he talked about (nothing was more unattractive than a meathead), and he listened to me like he seemed to care. So I thought, I don’t know, losing it to him not have been so bad. Now, I didn’t know if I ever wanted to loose it. My stomach rumbled. I slid on a pair of basketball shorts and a baggy t-shirt. I put on my comfort. Ican't have been hit by a resonation, they would have sent someone toclean it while they held me in the stream. I can't have resonatedmyself, can I? You can't turn yourself female by going to a ball game.Can you? Surely female is significant enough a change I'd just havewiped out. What the hell has happened? And why isn't anyone herecalming me down about the consequences.'Dear, you're clear.' comes the voice again.Must be Steve, he's got this thing about rhyming sentences that hethinks is. That one. It wasn't technology but it sure worked.There was still mopping. We lesser beings got stuck with that. They did teach us a nifty though. Clove hitches run up a mop handle will let one hang a mop over the side and rinse out the guck. Works well with grimy children too.Just inside the Noorderbuitenkanaal there is a marina. We arranged for the haulage of the boat. We wanted a marine surveyor to look at the keel and we wanted the masts pulled and stored while we motored around Amsterdam. Nancy’s trimmed, brown bush dripped with juices as it peeked out between her thighs, the slit of her pussy framed by her lush legs. She looked over her shoulder at me, her brown hair spilling over her face.“I know you need it, too,” she moaned. “How much pussy have you gotten since this began, Clancy?”“None,” I groaned, pressing the tip of my cock into my sister’s cunt. Feeling the incestuous warmth of her juices. Her silky hairs spilled over the tip of my cock. “Shit, Nancy.”She had just.