The only way I could ever have a c***d would be to have an egg extracted and implanted into a surrogate so she could carry the c***d. So you see, you ...ould cum inside of me freely and never have to worry about me getting pregnant. It's not even possible."I could feel his tears dripping on to my shoulder and pulled back to look at him. "Don't be sad big br0ther. I'm not saying everything is perfect, but I'm not upset about how my life has turned out. It just means you can love me freely without. .. prettier ... Meggie. See you when you get back.”“Aye-aye, Sergeant Jack!”“That’s ‘Master Sergeant Jack’ to you, kid!”Meg stuck out a surprisingly long, pink tongue, then flounced off down the hall.The pizza arrived. I paid and tipped the kid, then got out plates and napkins and put them on the breakfast table in the kitchen.“Soup’s on, Sis!”“Coming!”Meghan came into the kitchen barefoot, and still in her swimsuit, a very skimpy bikini. The triangular top – some shiny, stretchy material – was. She also changed her food shopping habits. I couldn't find a potato chip in the goddamn house! We had cauliflower, granola bars, and other weird shit for snacks. Meals were smaller and always included salads. Judy didn't starve herself, or me, but she certainly cut our caloric intake.We would meet at the gym after Judy finished her classes for the day. She told me all about her day as we used the treadmill. I had to wonder how she could walk that far, that fast and still be able to speak. I was. She immediately reminded me of carved figures I had seen on the prows of warships. I tried to conjure up a synonym for voluptuous but only managed luxurious which was hardly the same thing. And she was young, very young indeed declared the soft lines of her face, certainly not yet thirty.She was dressed in high-necked, tight-waisted, unadorned black that was certainly far from stylish in those days, a bit old-fashioned perhaps. She waved me to a chair, asked my name, said she was Mrs. Shoemaker.