There was a porch swing that she often sat in during warm evenings. Also beneath a huge, ancient oak were some lawn furniture, wrought iron with pads, a fairly large table and a couple of benches. The house sat off the road perhaps a hundred yards, totally isolated from those who passed by the thick orange trees. Privacy was assured by the original owners.Wearing her familiar western shirt and tight jeans, Joyce sat on the swing as the sun started going down. Her thoughts, as they had been all afternoon, were on this recent development in her life and her childrens' lives. Finally she got out of the swing and walked down the steps. There were bits of paper scattered on the lawn, and she started picking them up. Standing in the doorway of the house, Bobby watched his mother. He loved the way her jeans fit, and he was always gazing at her thighs and ass when she wore them. All this did right now was make his cock harder, throb almost painfully.The full, round, tight curves of his. Asthey consumed the magic figs, Cornelius explained, the Amphora would fillwith the golden nectar of male essence, which we could use to restoreAlexios and me to our old shapes. His logic may have been faulty, but wewomen were unable to disagree with him.For my part, I returned to my wife and my insula, dreading theconfrontation with Flavia. I had been unfaithful to her; I had left herfor two weeks with little prior arrangement. I had abandoned my positionwith the centumviri to chase after holy relics. Finally, I was a womannow, and pregnant. She was legally free to divorce me. Nevertheless, theconversation was worse than I had predicted.When I arrived home, Flavia recognized me, even transformed as I was. Shedid not ask my name, or disbelieve my story, but proceeded directly toventing her irritation after the briefest moment of hesitation."Well, my wayward husband returns at last," Flavia said. "I wondered whathad become of you, departing Rome without even a word. You.
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