Riding our bicycles home Emma had ridden ahead and turned into a playground. She went over the see-saw which was well secluded down the back. No moonl...ight, a large tree and bushes shielding most of the light from streetlights ensuring a fair amount of privacy. She told me to lie on the timber plank of the see-saw. I lay there looking up at her while she stepped out of her dress and panties then took off her blouse and still with no bra, she was naked apart from her sandals.She removed my shirt. It was in there and wanted to come out and say hello.Back to 4th grade. I know for years I would encounter run on sentences. I wrote as I spoke. Try to get me to stop. But I somehow learned from one particular teacher. She would suggest that when I was writing, to pretend I was talking. Take a breath. Anywhere you take a breath put in a comma. I still sometimes wonder if I use the semicolon correctly; such as here?I became a drawing fiend in my class this year. I would draw top down views of. My hair, my makeup, and my outfit looked proper. I wasn'toverdressed. I looked fine.Of course, this was the oddity. Until this morning, I was the husband, aman, to the beautiful woman at the door. I remembered that this was mybirthday. This whole transformation was my gift from my wife. Afterreading the stories I had bookmarked, she'd created this present.As I came up to her, she turned and kissed me on the cheek and huggedme. "Hi, honey! She gave me a girlfriend hug and grabbed the crook ofmy. He’s a good kisser, but I guess something about your prissy little innocent ass gets his pervert motor running. I’ll just watch, since I never do well being second choice.”Sharon said, “Thanks twin.” Then we were kissing again. It was the same as the first time, fireworks and earthquakes and volcanoes. She started taking off her clothes. I gasped involuntarily when I saw her lovely teenage breasts sticking straight out from her chest like perfect volcano cones. Before I knew it my hands were.