"First I must ask you a personal question, Miss Bollington," he began, "Are you aware of any ... shall we say, ... erm ... that is, ... family history... of your mother and more especially of your father?" If you mean, do I know that the father named on my birth certificate is not my biological father, yes," she replied, "My mother told me that years ago, when I was about nine or ten, but I have no idea who my real father is. My mother would never tell me, but she insisted I was conceived in love. We really were looking like twins, female twins. Mymind was racing; there was a surreal aspect to it all.While it seemed as though we were in the home stretch we were only justbeginning in the quest for realism. With my hair and hers still up inpin curls we began the makeup phase including foundation, powder, rouge,eyeliner, eyeshadow, and mascara in three coats. My girlfriend took thetime to touch up my eyebrows as well. Perhaps the most erotic part ofthe makeup was the bright red lipstick,. They had been much more impressed with the speed and efficiency with which the plans had been adapted and resources shifted to deal with the discovery.The plans for the inn were quickly modified, and a 'utility wing' was added that extended the side of the kitchen out the additional eighteen feet to the old well site. The utility wing would have a fourth floor with huge boilers which would allow them to deliver hot and cold water to every room in the inn.The expansion plans were looked on with. ..Over?”Aranel could only speak at the peak of the cocks when her breasts and her belly were almost their standard shape, and she was getting impaled relentlessly every two seconds.Her uncle Gwydion, useless as he was, seemed to be the only apologetic elf in the garden. “I...err... I don’t think this is part of the ceremony anymore, Princess... or should I say My Demon Queen. You are officially married.”“So...This...Is...My...Life...Now?”“I’m afraid so.” Gwydion shook his head and walked away.