My father stood in the doorway. He was 44, he didn't look bad, either. His blonde hair was still full, his green eyes still twinkly. His skin was tann...d. Women would always admire him whenever he went out."Hey, sweetie," he said, drawing me into a hug. I thought I felt something hard press against my groin, but I guess it was imagination."Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Yeah, but Matthew was sick so the meeting was cancelled, so I thought I'd come to see you. How are you?" I thought I saw. "You need to get up, you have a busy couple of days ahad of you." Who is this?" you replied, yawning sleepily as you blinked awake slowly."Oh it doesn't matter who I am, it matters who you are! Or rather, what you are!" came the cheerful tone again before adding "Notice anything different, dear?"What the hell was all of this about? It was the middle of summer vacation, your parents were away on holiday, and you had the full intention of enjoying yourself on these lazy days without some cryptic. More

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