There is the mirror - where he should have been - was a girl. A prettygirl - maybe 16. She was about 5'5", very thin, pretty (though smallish)breasts,...a pixie-like face with the tiniest button nose he'd ever seen.The hair was short -- about as short as Rob had ever had it - but veryfine, and maybe a few shades lighter brown than Rob had. "Is that me?" he asked Deb, his voice quivering in fright.Logically, Deb knew she should be suspicious. But seeing the scared lookin her eyes, the honest. .in a sea of bliss. I woke up every morning with mom by my side, now mobile enough to roll over and mount her, though most often she preferred sitting on me, or occasionally fucking doggy-style, particularly if we positioned ourselves there on the bed so we could watch one another in the mirror.I had now gotten one cast off my arm entirely, the other more of a short wrist brace that I could at least remove from time to time as I built up my strength again, though the rehabilitation I was going. More

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