. right? The odds of that..."I was still thinking pre-change.Since the change, everything had been ramped up, science had removed theinefficiencies of...the systems, every sperm was engineered for onepurpose, the intricacies of the female reproduction system had beenreplaced with genetically perfect baby-making machines. There was reallyno doubt that I'd have a fertilized egg inside me by morning. In a fewweeks I'd start showing at least to myself, a few weeks after that theworld, or at least my. I know we can do this; I can feel it in my bones.“I just wish I paid more attention in all of my English classes. I don’t have a big vocabulary; I don’t use fancy words.”“You won’t have to worry about that; that’s going to be my job. I’ll be your editor and I’ll help you with your vocabulary, too. Besides, you don’t have to use fancy words to get people to read your stories; in fact, today it’s probably just the opposite.”“We’ll have to get a personal computer and a good word processing program. I could feel every stroke of his fingers, goose bumps breaking out, leaving a visible trail of tingling sensitivity behind. More wetness started to pool between my legs as he licked around my slight breast, never actually touching the nipple, but teasing close enough that I hoped he did. One of his hands guided my hand to his bulging zipper. I took the incentive and undid his jeans, wrapping my hands around him and slowly moving up and down. He groaned and closed his eyes, hips moving forward. She should have listened to her own instincts. Because Jack had turned out to be a total loser. She couldn't imagine herself ever wanting to go to bed with him. Much less spending the rest of her life with him. At that time, Jack was 43 and still lived with his mother. He drank too much, smoked like a chimney, and was a real cheapskate—he was reluctant to spend money on her, not even to buy her a fast-food burger without strings attached. And he pretty-much ignored her son Bobby, showing no.