We stood in the kitchen making drinks. I stole a quick glance at your ass as you bent over to look in the fridge. You sighed. “No juice left.” �...Sure I could find you some somewhere,” I said. You gasped and I wished I could take it back. “Don’t tease me now,” you said. “Because I’d love some of your juice.” You turned to face me, flashed me a seductive smile and sauntered out while I stood there gaping. A few days later we stood by the copier. “How about you hop up and let me copy you,” I. He lay with his eyes closed while she cleaned him. She had already washed his hair, and shaved his legs ? unusual, but better than being a transsexual with hairy legs he mused. His attention never escaped how she was making a conscious effort to avoid his new assets, and he could sense how much she wanted to grab them since the hospital.She had always been sensitive, if a little random. He reached out blindly, found an arm, and guided her hand home. The next few hours turned into minutes. More

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