My lungs weren’t hurting particularly. I knew what had happened. I was dead. The murk was just the mess I’d made of my life. Maybe I would have et...rnity to clear it up. For some reason I remembered just when I’d lost Hope.My mid-life crisis hit the day I realized thirty-three was half-way through my life expectancy. Of course, technically, having already survived Viet Nam, I should have had a much longer life expectancy than the sixty-six that was estimated in 1982, but apparently I had. This was the first time hehad shaved his legs. He ran a hand tenderly along the right leg. It wascertainly different from being in the suit. His hand trailed up his innerthigh up to his crotch. It gently caressed the soft silky material on thecrotch. The white cotton bikini panties with pink roses outlined the softlips of his new sex. He pulled his shirt a bit to get a better look. Hismidriff was also hairless, just like his legs, chest and arms. Betweenthe hairless legs and the padded rear,. More

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