There was his bookcase along one wall, filled with books that were once of interest to him. His desk was in the corner adjacent to it, piled high with...papers that he no longer cared about. On one corner of it stood a dusty computer, many generations out of date. He never used it much even when it was new. Along the other wall was the memorabilia of his life, the evidence that proved his existence, now that he had been retired these past five years. His diplomas, his photographs of dignitaries. She still had her dick, which had never been particularly big, but it looked even smaller now. Maybe it just looked smaller because her thighs had grown so much."I'd hit that," she whispered about herself, then realized that her voice sounded different than usual. She spoke aloud, and yes, her voice was higher pitched and, honestly, quite sexy. She wanted to fuck herself. She had turned into her own dream girl. This was great.Or, was it?What if the, huh, the… the Juice? The Nectar? What if the. More

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