Alien Exchange Program
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The reality of the situation still
hadn't sunk in as they started back to the campsite, walking side by side.
"I can't believe this is
happening," said Craig. "This can't be real."
"It is real," she
said, tersely. "The question is, what are we going to do about it?"
"What can we do about
it?" he asked, helplessly.
"I don't know," she said,
"What are we going to tell Mom
and Dad?" he asked.
She thought. It was going to be
impossible to keep this a secret from their parents. She didn't want to tell
them, because she already knew what their response would be. They wouldn't
believe it. But if they explained their theory of what had happened, then at
least they could say they'd been truthful, should anything get out of control. She
couldn't think of what that would be, but the future was completely up in the
air at this point.
"We have to tell them,"
"Like they'll believe us?"
"I know they won't, but we
still have to tell them."
"Because when you have your
first period, and freak out, they need to have a basis to understand why you're
freaking out," she said.
"Fuck!" His jaw dropped,
but then he recovered a little. "That's going to happen to me?"
"Unless you get pregnant,"
she said. It was a joke, but he didn't think it was funny at all.
"No fucking way. I'm not going
out with guys. You're not going to date until this gets fixed."
"Yes I am," she said,
"Not while I have control of
your body," he growled.
"I'm not talking about my body,"
she said. "I'm talking about yours." She smiled. It was weird, but
she thought she might enjoy some aspects of being "a guy." She could do what she
wanted, go where she wanted. She didn't have to worry any more about guys
hassling her, or worse. She felt powerful. She raised her brother's arms and
flexed them. She watched the muscles bunch and felt the power in his body.
She thought, "I could get used
That thought was followed instantly
by astonishment that she could feel good in a male body. It was insane.
"You're not going to make me
look like a faggot," he said.
"I don't know what I'm going to
do," she said. "I have no idea what's going to happen to us. That's
why I think it might be a good idea if Mom and Dad know what happened, even if
they don't believe it at first."
"I think you're crazy."
"I think you'd better be more
cooperative, or I'm going to go up to Jerry Lindstrom and plant a big, wet kiss
on his lips," she said, calmly.
"Fuck!" he said, explosively.
"And I told you to stop cursing
with my mouth!" she snapped.
She saw her image slump, and her sad
face look up at her.
"Do we really have to do
this?" he asked.
"I think so," she said. "What
other option do we have?"
"They won't be able to fix
this," he moaned.
"No, but at least they'll
understand what we're going through." She sighed. "Eventually."
When they got back, their parents
were actively engaged in preparing breakfast. Today that consisted of scrambled
eggs and sausage, with salsa on the side. Bananas had been laid out, and yogurt
as well, as another option. Their mother looked up as they approached.
"Yeah," they said,
They looked at each other. That
simple response reminded them that they were still twins. They often said the
same thing at the same time. Secretly, both were pleased by that. They had
always been close, which nobody thought was unusual. The competition they had
engaged in lately had more to do with adolescence and peer pressure than any
real desire to lessen the bond they had always felt.
And now, the simple act of answering
together somehow made things better. They would get through this, somehow, and
they'd do it together.
Their dad stirred the eggs and moved
the cast iron skillet containing them off to one side, away from the active
flames. He stood up.
"Have a seat. We're
His meaning was obvious. They
weren't waiting for breakfast to be finished cooking. They were waiting for an
Craig looked at his sister. The fact
that he was deferring to her wasn't strange, in the sense that he usually
deferred to her when they had done something they were in trouble for. She was
better on her feet at creative bullshitting. But it bothered him, somehow,
maybe because he was in a girl's body, that he didn't step forward to take
charge. He watched her ... his sister ... in his body ... preparing to do what
she always did.
Except, for their parents, it wasn't
going to be what they were used to.
"You're not going to believe
what we tell you," said Carly.
"Why don't you let us decide
what we believe and don't believe," said their dad.
"I'm just warning you that the
story will seem fantastic, and unbelievable," she said. "You're going
to think we're pulling a prank, or telling a tall tale, or maybe even outright
lying, but everything we're about to tell you is true."
Her mother moaned, "Oh, Jack,
they really are on drugs!"
"Be quiet, Fran. I want to hear
this," said Jack.
It struck Craig, inside his now
female body, that his mother did exactly what she was told to by their father. She
didn't look happy about it, but she followed his orders. It was the first time
in his young life that he actually saw the dominance of a man over a woman in
such a subjective way. He suddenly felt helpless. It was an unusual and
somewhat terrifying feeling, and when the tears began to spill out of his eyes,
he was suddenly glad he was in a female body. It was the first time in his life
that he felt like crying was normal, and that nobody would make fun of him for
He thought, "I don't want to
stay this way, but maybe it has its compensations."
"We don't know
everything," said Carly. "And we understand even less, but we were
sitting here last night, roasting marshmallows."
"I found the bag, still half
filled, ground into the dirt," Jack commented.
"I don't know about that,"
said Carly. "We were sitting here, and suddenly there was this light all
around us, like a beam, except it was like a hundred cars with their headlights
on high." She took a breath, but nobody interrupted her. "And then we
woke up and it was morning. We couldn't remember anything. We don't actually
know if we slept in our chairs ... or not."
"That's ridiculous. If you woke
up in your chairs, where else could you have slept?"
"There's more," said
Their parents just stared at them.
"I'm not really Craig,"
"Of course you're Craig,"
"What I mean is that the person
you're talking to right now, is Carly. Somehow, my mind got transferred into
Craig's body. And his got put into my body." She pointed at her body.
It was silent. Their parents kept
staring at them. It went on so long that she had to fill the silence.
"That's really all we know. We
don't know how it happened, or where we were when it happened. We think maybe
aliens abducted us, and they caused it. I know that sounds crazy, but that's
all we can think of to explain all this."
Jack looked at Fran. He opened his
mouth and started to speak. Then he closed it, and remained mute. Fran looked
at him, and her face showed only confusion. At length, he opened his mouth
again, and finally spoke.
"Maybe you're right. Maybe they
are on drugs."
The pan of eggs sat over ashes, its
contents uneaten, and grown dry and cool as time had passed.
The interrogation had been
unrelenting for a full hour. The kids had sat, helplessly, unable to answer
"Was it acid?" asked Jack, at one point.
"Did you take LSD?"
"No," they groaned, again
together. Now Craig spoke up, in his sister's voice.
"We're not bullshitting you, Dad. I've never taken drugs in my life, and I'd bet my life that Carly
Jack blinked. Both of them had been
talking about each other like that, referring to the other as if it were the
person who should be making the noises coming out of their mouths. It was
eerie, because they never screwed up. It was like they had practiced this
bizarre prank for ages. He clung to the idea that this was all some kind of
joke. Except that no crack had shown in their defenses for an entire hour. His
stomach growled, and he glanced at the eggs. They were ruined. They'd chew like
rubber now. And the sausage had had time for bacteria to grow on it that nobody
should eat. He unconsciously used a coping mechanism by reaching for the pan
and dumping the contents into the coals of the fire. It would be a cold
breakfast for them all, this morning.
Fran suddenly spoke, addressing the
person who looked like her son.
"If you're actually Carly in
there, tell me where we went that day after I bought you your first bra." She
looked over at the form of her daughter. "And don't you utter one
word." She looked back at Craig's body.
"You mean to Zales?" asked
Her mother looked tense. "Why
did we go there?"
"You said it was to celebrate
me becoming a woman."
Fran blinked, and leaned forward.
"What did you want that I
wouldn't buy for you?"
"I wanted to get my ears
pierced, but you said I had to wait until I was fifteen."
Fran leaned back, so hard that the
lawn chair rocked back, lifting the front legs off the ground an inch.
"Good Lord, Jack, they may be
telling the truth!"
"Come on, Fran," he said. "It's
"I never told you about that
trip to Zales. I never told anybody about it. It was something I wanted to be
one of those little things between a mother and daughter."
"You got her a charm
bracelet," said Jack. "I remember that."
"Yes, but I didn't tell you
where we went ... or that other part."
Jack looked at the image of his
"She told him about it. You
know how they are. They tell each other everything. They act the same. They say
things at the same time. They're twins, Fran!"
"Ask him something only your
son would know," said Fran, gesturing to their daughter's body. Her usage
of the pronoun "him" was observed by all present. It was profound, in
the minds of the two teens, and gave them their first spark of hope that
someone might actually believe them.
"Okay," said Jack,
aggressively. Then he went silent.
A full minute later Fran spoke
"I'm thinking," he
growled. "It has to be something only Craig would know."
"Ask me about one of our
hunting trips," said Carly's body. Carly had never been hunting. She
didn't like guns. It was something her brother had teased her about.
Finally, Jack spoke.
"How many times have I taken a
shot at a deer and missed?"
"Over all three hunting trips
we've been on?" asked Carly's body.
"Yes, all of them." Jack
folded his arms across his chest.
Carly's body ticked them off on her
"Four," said Craig, with
Fran goggled. "You
missed the target four times? Where did those bullets go, Jack? You told
me you always hit what you aim at."
Jack looked uncomfortable, but
ignored her. He looked at his daughter.
"How many times have you missed?"
"Once," said Craig. "Unless
you include that first time, when you said I had buck fever and couldn't shoot.
You said I'd missed the perfect chance. Does that one count?"
"Jack, you never told me any of
this," complained Fran. "I let you take him out there because I knew
it was important to you, but you assured me that nobody could get hurt except
the deer. If you two are just shooting willy nilly, those bullets could end up
"Nobody got hurt!" snapped
Jack. "We were in the middle of the woods, for Christ's sake. It's no big
"If it's no big deal, then why
didn't you tell me?" argued Fran.
"Because no man wants to admit
that he missed," he finally said.
"So you lied to me because you
wanted to look all macho." Fran looked disgusted.
"I didn't lie. I just didn't
tell you everything," he complained.
Fran looked at her son's body.
"Did he tell you that he
couldn't shoot a deer, or that he missed when he tried to?"
Carly shook her brother's head.
"We never really talked about
the hunting trips. I mean he said it was fun, and that cleaning the deer is
messy. I think he just told me that part to creep me out. He said they ate the
heart raw, because the Indians claim that will make you more of a man, or
"That wasn't really true,"
said Carly's body. "We never really ate anything raw. You were right. I
was just messing with you."
"Son of a bitch!" barked
Jack, who was suddenly ghost pale. "It's fucking true!"
That fact affected the adults so
much that Fran didn't even scold him for using language like that in front of
It is one thing to accept a premise
as fact, on a cerebral or academic level. It is another entirely to accept it
on an emotional one. This phenomenon leads to situations in which you know
something is true, but have a hard time believing it anyway. If you need more
detail, or are a researcher, I'll hook you up with the Austin family. Well,
I'll tell them what you want. Don't be surprised if they aren't interested in
trying to prove things to you that took them months to adjust to
During that first day, there was
very little "adjusting" and a lot of questions. Pretty much everybody
asked questions. Both teens and adults had questions, but of a different
variety. The kids were asking questions from a viewpoint of, "What do we
do now?" For the adults, there wasn't anything to do, except try to
understand how this had happened. And that diversity of viewpoints was, quite
possibly, what led to the eventual resolution of the whole mess.
What was that, you ask? Well, you
will learn of that in due time. To be fair - and by "fair" I mean to
put you on the same shale-covered mountainside that the kids were on, where
every step might cause you to slip and fall off the mountain - you are going to
have to take the same journey they took. Thank your lucky stars it isn't literally
the same journey. But don't get all miffed and stop reading because you're
too impatient to know how things turned out. As I said earlier, this could
happen to you, and it would be handy if you knew what to do about it.
The adults ran out of questions
first. Unfortunately, the plethora of questions - from both viewpoints - did
not generate many answers. To distill it all down to the common denominator,
we'll just say it was basically like this:
"What are we going to do?"
asked the kids.
"The only thing you can do is
go on with your lives until we can figure out whether or not this situation can
be resolved somehow."
"I can't live life as
Carly," groaned Craig. "She's a girl!"
"There's nothing wrong with
being a woman," sniffed Fran. "You're a beautiful young woman, now. You
should be proud of your femininity."
"I am not a young
woman!" barked Craig. "Being stuck in my sister's body does not make
"Well you're going to have to
learn how to act like one," said Jack. "Because if you don't, people
are going to think there's something wrong with you."
"There is something
wrong with me!" wailed Craig.
"What I meant," said Jack,
calmly, "is that if you can't act like your sister, you're going to end up
in the loony bin, and there won't be anything your mother or I can do about it.
Not right away."
This gave Craig pause.
It was clear that Carly wasn't excited about impersonating a male either, when she said, "And that means I have to act
like Craig?" His voice, powered by her mind, sounded sad about that, but both Fran and Jack had
already begun adapting to the situation, and their reaction to the bizarre
visual things going on around them had already lessened.
"Yes," said Fran. "At least for now. Don't worry. Your father will think of some way to fix all this,
and then you can have your body back."
"Me?" croaked Jack. "I
have no idea how to fix this!"
"You'll figure it out,"
said Fran, with complete confidence.
"Really?" That was Carly,
making Craig's voice sound like an alto.
"No pressure there," said
Jack. Sarcasm dripped in his voice.
"What if he can't?" asked
Craig, who had tensed Carly's entire body. "What if this is ...
"Then you'll just have to do
the best you can," said Fran.
"What does that mean,
Mom?" asked Craig.
"What it means is that, if it's
permanent - and it could be some temporary result of the al-" She stopped.
Everybody knew she'd almost said "aliens" and everybody knew why
she'd stopped. "It could be a temporary result of whatever happened to
you," she finished. "But we won't know which it is until some time
passes. So until then, the two of you need to teach each other how to act, so
that nobody outside this family finds out that this happened. It's hard enough
for your father and me to believe this. Nobody outside our family ever would. And
I do not want my children confined in some institution."
"The booby hatch," said
Jack, as if her statement needed clarification.
"Stop that!" snapped his
wife. "You'll scare them."
Jack laughed. It was both explosive
and completely inappropriate for that particular situation. The other three
were shocked, and it was obvious on their faces. He didn't bat an eyelash,
though. Instead, he just stared at his wife.
"You think they aren't already scared?"
"You're not helping," she
said, her voice level.
"Listen to me," he
replied, his voice just as firm and level. "The single thing they need to
concentrate on most in the world is that they do not want to end up doing
something that will lead to the kind of questions that will, in fact, land them
locked up in a room with rubber walls. Political correctness isn't what's
needed here. Raw truth and a clear understanding of the dangers they face is
what they need to guide their actions right now. And this beginning time is the
most dangerous time of all, because they aren't used to this yet. They need
time and training to be able to pull this off. We can't just hide them away,
because that would cause its own set of questions. They can't avoid their
friends forever, because that would cause questions. In fact, the only way I
think we're going to pull this off at all is to just move, where nobody knows
us and nobody will see any differences between how they used to act, and
how they act now!"
"Calm down, Dear," said
Fran, soothingly. "It's not as bad as you think. Both of them are bright,
intelligent kids. They understand the stakes. They'll do whatever is necessary
to protect themselves. And everybody knows that teenagers are erratic and
unpredictable. If there are any little slips, people will think it's
"Or we can say we were messing
around," said Craig, who was already imagining what kind of
"slips" he was likely to make. Like going into the guys bathroom in a
public venue, without thinking about it.
"See? They'll be fine, Darling.
Don't get your blood pressure up."
"If this isn't an excuse to
have high blood pressure, there is no good excuse," said Jack,
still fired up.
"Of course there's no excuse to
have high blood pressure," said Fran, firmly. "Don't be silly. Speaking
of which, did you take your medicine this morning?"
"No," he said, a little
grumpily. "My morning routine was, shall we say, interrupted?" There
was more sarcasm in his voice.
go take it," she said.
"I don't want to have to deal with this alone, and have the fuss of
burying you piled on top of it."
Her calm, matter of fact attitude
was a little unnerving. It almost suggested that possibly having to bury her
husband was the least of her concerns, at this particular moment.
He stalked off towards the tent. Fran
turned back to her children.
"This isn't the end of the
world," she said, her voice low. "You two might as well have been
each other anyway. You know what I'm talking about. You finish each other's
sentences. You like the same things and you think the same way. With a little
practice, this won't be as hard as you think. And it really may be temporary,
some kind of shock to your psyches or something. For now, just talk to each
other and teach each other how to be each other."
She looked confused. "Did
that make sense?" she asked.
"Yes, Mom," said both
They looked at each other. They were
used to doing that ... saying the same thing at the same time. It was not
something that had genetic roots, regardless of what their parents thought. When
they had been small, they had noticed the reaction of the adults around them
when, occasionally, completely by accident, they said something together. They
thought that reaction was funny. And it got them extra attention. So they
practiced doing it. And, perhaps, unknown to them, there really was some
genetic component to it, because after a while, they didn't have to glance at
each other, or make any signal to pull their pranks. After a while, it just
became natural. It wasn't magic or anything. They simply understood what the
likely answer to a question was, or the likely remark to some stimuli, and then
said it at the same time. If they were right, it sounded like "Twin
Speak" and if they were wrong, nobody noticed.
The same thing happens with siblings
who aren't twins. They answer or say things at the same time. Sometimes they
say the same thing. If you're the parent of multiple children, you've heard it
happen in your own family.
In any case, not to belabor the
subject, by the time Jack got back from taking his blood pressure medicine, Fran
had more eggs cooking, and the kids had their heads together, talking quietly.
"We're not going back home
early," announced Jack as he approached his family.
"I don't remember anyone saying
we should," said Fran.
"Don't you want a doctor to
examine them?" he asked, frowning.
"What good would that do?"
she asked. "Their bodies aren't injured, and a doctor can't see their
minds. A doctor wouldn't believe them anyway. You know that."
"I don't want to take them to a
doctor," he said. "I just thought I was going to have to talk you out
of that. And I assumed they'd want to go home."
"Why? What can they do at home
that they can't do here?"
"And without any of our friends
showing up before we're ready for that," added Carly.
"Oh," said Jack, trying to
salvage his dignity. "Good, then."
"And we mustn't let this
destroy our vacation," said Fran. "We haven't finished recharging. We
may as well try to get used to it as soon as possible."
"Isn't that what we're
"We planned to hike the Cascade
Canyon trail today," said Fran, ignoring his barb. "I think we should
still do that."
"So do I!" argued Jack.
"Then stop stomping around and
making decrees, like you're the king of the world, or something," said
Fran. "The children have enough to worry about without their father going
all macho on them."
"I'm not going all macho!"
She gave him a long, level stare. "Oh
yes," she said. "I forgot. You already went all macho on me
back after that hunting trip."
Jack stomped over to his son and
took him by the shoulders. Then, remembering that this wasn't his son,
he moved to Carly's body and did the same thing. Still, it was very strange,
and it gave him pause.
"Craig?" he asked.
It was Carly's voice, but the
instant reply reassured him that he was, in fact, talking to his son.
"Let this be a lesson to you. It
is impossible to understand a woman. My children have been abducted by aliens,
and their minds have been switched, and what's my wife all fired up
about? She's all fired up because one day, five years ago when I brought home a
deer to put meat in the freezer, I forgot to tell her I missed when I fired at
the first one!"
Fran sniffed. "You didn't forget to tell me ... you decided not to."
"It was four years ago, Dad,
not five," said Craig, who couldn't have told you why he corrected his
father in this situation.
Jack stepped back. A look mild
horror came over his face. In his mind, the same thing he'd just complained
about, concerning his wife, had just happened again.
"Oh my God!" he gasped. "He's
turning into a girl already!"
"I'm not turning into a
girl!" growled Craig, for perhaps the ninth or tenth time.
"I know," said his sister,
soothingly. Then she grinned. "You already are one!"
"Stop that," came their
mother's voice, from behind them. Their father, who was leading on the hike,
neither turned around or said anything. He had apologized to Carly/Craig, (he
looked like Carly, but was Craig), saying it was the stress of the situation
that had made him say that, but hadn't said much since then.
Carly walked behind
"herself" in the line. It had been quite interesting, because, for
the first time in her life, she'd gotten the chance to see what her body looked
like as it performed various tasks. Give a girl a mirror, and she'll watch
herself for hours. A guy generally looks only until he's convinced everything
is perfect (or that nothing else can be done to improve on the train wreck he
sees), and then walks away. But girls love a mirror.
And this was even better than a
mirror, because she could see all sides of herself. She could see how the
muscles in her calves tightened and relaxed, as Craig put her body through its
paces. She could see the swell of her hips, and how her butt cheeks rose and
fell as he walked. She'd had to help him get dressed. She'd chosen her favorite
jeans shorts for him to put on, with the thin checkered shirt.
It had been comical. When they got
into the tent, and began disrobing to change clothes, he couldn't get the bra
undone. He could get her arms behind her, which he said was amazing, but her
muscle memory was overcome by his inexperience and his fingers couldn't make
the catch of her bra work.
Then, after she helped him, and he
pulled the bra off, he stood stock still, looking down at "his"
"Wow," he whispered.
"They're just breasts,"
she giggled. "See if you can put this on." She handed him a clean
That was comical too. In the end,
she had to help "her" fingers complete the task.
"I'll never be able to do
this," he groused.
"Yes you will," she said. "Now,
put this on, but leave the top two buttons undone and tie the tails in a knot
just below your breasts."
"Stop calling them 'my'
breasts," he complained.
"They are yours!"
she hissed. The look on his face made her moderate her attitude. "At least
"So I can do this?"
He reached, cupped the breasts in
question, and squeezed them.
It was quiet in the tent.
"I guess you can," she
"Wow," he sighed. "That
is so weird!"
"You'll get used to that
too," she said. "They're just breasts. Every girl has them."
"I'm fully aware of that. But I've
never had any. And I certainly never had access to any I could look at and
touch and play with whenever I feel like it."
She tilted her head.
"I guess they are fun to
play with ... sometimes." She looked down at her crotch. "I guess I
have something new and interesting to play with too. Isn't that right?"
"Shit, Carly!" gasped
"Well if you get to play with
my breasts, then isn't it only fair that I get to play with your penis?"
"Oh, man," groaned her own
voice. It was still shocking to hear her voice saying things that she wasn't
"Maybe we should move on,"
she said. "Tie the shirt like I told you to."
"That will leave my belly
bare," he said.
He stood still.
"I get it," he said. "I
mean I know why girls do that. They want to show off their bodies. But this
feels really weird. I think I'll just leave the shirt regular."
"No. You'll make me look like a
tomboy, and I don't want to look like a tomboy."
"It isn't your body
anymore," he countered.
"So I can wear a pastel pink
shirt with a shawl collar and white bell bottomed pants?" she asked,
"Okay. I get it," he said.
"But this makes me feel gay."
"I know you're not gay,"
she said, firmly. "And nobody else is going to know there's a boy in that
body. Nobody will pay any attention to you."
"Except all the guys who stare
at me," he said.
"Guys don't stare at me that
much," said Carly.
"Yes they do. I see them do it.
You're kind of a babe, Carly."
"Aww, thank you," she said.
And then it was time for her to
change. She didn't have any trouble getting undressed, or redressed, but she
still paused, when she was naked, and stared at the appendage hanging between
"Talk about weird," she
"You'll get used to it,"
he said. "I don't even think about it unless I get a boner."
She looked startled.
"Do you think that will happen
... to me?"
"I don't know. Maybe. I mean
sometimes they just happen to me, and I don't even know why."
"What do I do if that
"You just move it up and to the
"To the left?"
"It points a little left when
it's hard," he said. "It's more comfortable if you put it up and to
"This is so weird," she
"You're telling me?"
Now, as her body walked in front of
her, and she got the chance to see what her butt looked like, and how narrow
her waist looked, compared to the swell of her hips in those jeans, she liked
what she saw. It was completely different from looking at herself in a mirror. She
couldn't explain why, but there was no comparison. She looked good, and
that made her full of both relief and happiness!
Suddenly she stopped. There was
something wrong in her groin. Strange tingling things were happening down
there. It was almost like what she felt when she got turned on, but different
in ways she had no frame of reference to use to describe it.
"What's wrong?" asked her
mother, who had stopped behind her.
The other two had kept going,
unaware she had halted, but then stopped and looked back when Fran spoke.
"I don't know," said
Carly. "I might have pulled a muscle."
"No way," said Craig,
bringing her body back towards her. She looked at her bare midriff. Even her
belly button looked good. "I'm in too good of shape to pull a muscle just
walking along this trail."
"It's your sister who
something's wrong with, not you," pointed out Fran to the person who
actually looked like her daughter.
"I meant my body ... my old
body ... is in too good a shape to have pulled a muscle," said Craig.
"Well something's wrong,"
"Where?" asked Fran.
"Right ..." Carly pointed
with one finger at the zipper of her pants. That zipper was bulging for some
reason. "... there," she said.
Her body moved toward her. Her brain
told her it was Craig, but she still thought of that body as her own. She saw
her hand reach and felt it squeeze the front of the body she was in.
That squeeze felt good!
"I told you that happened
sometimes," said Craig. "It's just a random boner. Do what I told you
"You two talked about erections?"
"And what to do about
them?" Jack joined in the astonishment.
"Not that," said Craig. "I just told her where to move it, so it would be more comfortable."
"And that makes this
better?" asked Fran, sounding almost hysterical.
"Just move it," said Craig
Carly moved her hand to the material
that she had to admit her penis was pushing against. The jeans were
tight. She had no idea how to make the thing under the cloth move.
"I don't know how to do
this," she complained.
"You want me to do it?"
"No!" gasped both parents,
again in tandem. It had been bad enough to see their daughter walk up to their
son and casually reach to feel his crotch.
Neither twin noticed their parents'
consternation, nor would have understood, had they seen their faces. They
reacted as twins, now, who just normally wanted to help each other if there was
a problem to get through.
"You can suck in your stomach
and reach inside to move it," said Craig. "But you don't want to do
that in public. If you don't want anybody to see what you're doing, you kind of
push on it to make it shift a little. But if it's pointed down when it gets
stiff, you're screwed. In that case, you either go to the bathroom to do
things, or duck into a doorway or whatever.”
Carly sucked in her stomach, which
felt different than she was used to. But everything felt different than
she was used to, so she didn't really dwell on it. Carefully, she put her right
hand into her jeans. She slid by the waistband of her jockey shorts, but without
the thickness of the jeans in her way, it was easy to find and grasp the
offending member. It moved easily, at least a little bit, until the jockey
shorts wouldn't stretch any more. But when she let go, it seemed to settle into
a comfortable position, as if it actually knew where to go.
She pulled her hand out.
"That's better," she said.
"I'm not sure I can take
this," said Fran.
"Yes you can, Dear," said
Jack. "I'm not doing this alone, either."
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