He stood up more firmly with his back straight.“Fuck. Um, I’m sorry.” Brooke said now looking at her card and seeing she had misread her number....“I have all this crap with me and I have to go up two more floors, my feet are killing me.” Brooke said complaining more than she had wanted to. She looked up at him and got another look at his muscular build as he stood back looking at her with a look she knew all too well.“Well if you’d like you can rest here for a moment and when your feet aren’t. She imagined herself a strong muscular boy like her boyfriend while he became smaller and feminine. She would show him how to wear dresses while he taught her to play sports like a boy. She could fix his hair each morning for him and she could carry his books with the new strength in her manly arms. The more she thought of it, it sounded like a lot of fun.So the next day, Jack and Francine were sitting in their tree, doing what they usually did up there. When they stopped for a break,. He did something that seemed strange but evocative: he slid the neck of his beer bottle as he pulled it away sliding it up against the neck of my beer bottle and toward his embrasured lips. He quaffed the golden brew and smacked his lips with pleasure. The twinkle in his eyes made my dick jerk and slowly snake into a noticeable round swelling. I don't remember what we talked about but I do recall that each time he leaned in-- because the raging music the band played would otherwise drown out. "I'm 80% sure it will work. It it doesn't work you and I won't have much time to think about why it didn't work. We most likely will be dead." I replied."That isn't very reassuring," Hugo said."Would you rather I lied to you, as if you were a ten year old," I asked."No of course not," he said."I can make a plan that will get your stones to New York and odds are 50/50 the bad guys will leave you alone when they realize they have been duped. They may or may not come back next month to try again..