Not only she could not hide what she was now, she was actually forced topoint it out.Seen in this way, a likely very long life didn't look like a bles...ing,but a curse.Damned in life, in her own personal estrogen hell.As she walked, many people gave her puzzled looks. But many more werethe hostile or frightened stares. The news of her Twist had obviouslybeen spreading around, no doubt with the help of her uncle and aunt, andall the "normals" in town were always interested in gossiping about. Once we reach our destination, he pushes me up against the cold brick wall and immediately begins to kiss me.It’s been so long since I have been kissed that I worried I would forget how to do it, but right now, I don’t have time for these thoughts. All I have time for is the feeling of his lips crushing mine, the sensation of his hand trying to slip between the buttons of my blouse and the hardness of his cock pressing through his pirate costume.He’s almost managed to free my left nipple from. But it’s also something else, something much more magical. No, literally, it’s a magic book.That’s right, hidden throughout the world are these special little hardcover books with slightly worn red leather bindings just begging to be found. They look inconspicuous enough, and most people won’t even remember how they ended up with one, but when they are opened, only a single phrase is printed on the first page a prospective reader opens to.A new erotic fantasy is born…And that’s it. The reader. However, while neither was present (Really, they were both but little older than I and quite unknown at that time!) both had friends who were, and I cannot but think that they both heard of the exchange through them. Regardless, as we separated after the meal, the gentlemen to retire for brandy and cigars and we ladies for a more genteel sherry, the talk of the evening was most certainly the renewal of the War of 1812 we had all just witnessed.Within the hour, James had found me in the parlor.