"And then he was back again. He glanced down at his body, at his breasts.His ass felt so heavy hanging over the edge of the bed. What hadhappened to...him? What was he becoming? "My ass is so big," he moaned."It doesn't matter. You're Greg, no matter what." But it's different." It wasn't just that his ass looked different. Ithad a different purpose. It was there to feed an unborn child, to helphim make babies. That was his whole purpose now. It was all he reallywanted. "Brigand, I want. And Mrs. Smith for as long as he could remember. She and her husband had been nice enough people. He even mowed their lawn a few times for extra money during the summer. John always noticed how Mrs. Smith would go jogging every morning, in her jogging shorts and athletic top. So did every other guy in the neighborhood. After John turned 15 he had fantasies of having sex with her and would masturbate with those dreams.After John turned 16, Mr. Smith had died of a heart attack. Mrs. Smith took it. More

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