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MetaMorph Ch. 01

By: jezzaz



Hey Folks. So yeah, this is an attempt to write something in a different style from how I normally write. It's an experiment, and I'll be returning to my usual style for the next set of stories.

This is NOT an Ingrams & Associates Universe story – this is a stand alone story.

Thanks Darknicaid and PennLady for looking it over.

Chapter 1

Dan Perry was plodding down Ventura Boulevard when the black car stopped next to him. He barely glanced at it – in LA there are all sorts of blacked out SUV's with god knows who in them; you learned to ignore them pretty quickly. He returned his attention to the churro he'd just bought off a street vendor, munching on it with a fierce intensity. He honestly had no clue what to do next with his life. Everyone had ended last week and he was still recovering, and he was doing what he always did when he was stressed; eat. He was bewildered, angry, frustrated and deeply, deeply hurt. He knew that some of the blame had to lie with him; he could almost not blame his wife for what she'd done, but still, that didn't make it right. He was the aggrieved party here and the biggest issue was he simply had no idea what to do next, how to combat his feelings of worthlessness and humiliation.

Dan was large. He knew he was large. He knew that, if he really thought about it, he wasn't just large. He was fat. He was obese. He was two hundred and ninety seven pounds – he knew because he'd weighed himself that morning, and then cried in the mirror. He was a lard ass and finally, he was facing that fact. Everything that had been said to him was true and he hated it being true. His life had collapsed, the plan, in so far as he had a plan, had ended abruptly and while he wasn't strictly speaking to blame – she'd cheated on him – he wasn't entirely sure he could blame her.

In a way he'd been expecting it for years. June was just too hot for him. He couldn't quite believe that she'd married him in the first place. He was a world class nerd, large and not got enough ambition and yet, she had. Nine years of marriage, and then, well... it had ended. Pretty un-nicely. About as un-nicely as it was possible to get, in fact.

He stopped for a moment to finish up the churro and throw away the waxy paper, and noticed that the black SUV was also next to him. Was it keeping pace with him? Nah. What would it do that? 

He idly wondered who was in it. Some celebrity no doubt. He was squinting at the windows to see if he could make out a shape within when the doors opened and two very large guys, in skin tight T-shirts, showing off large pectorals and arms, jumped out.

They looked directly at him and said, "Dan Perry?" He just looked back at them, not quite comprehending what was going on. 

His brain kicked into gear and he said, "Um...what?"

The two guys looked at each other nodded and walked over to him. One put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Our employer would like a chat with you, Mr. Perry. Trust us, this is to your advantage, sir."

Now Dan was a large man and he had often felt that his weight could be a positive in situations like this. Two hundred and ninety seven pounds that did not want to go in a specific direction would be hard to resist, he often thought, but these guys just propelled him towards the car with barely any effort at all. 

Dan wondered if he should make a scene? Do something to stop these guys? But then, this was straight out of Men in Black, one of his favorite older comics book series, and he was interested enough to see where it was going to go. Right now, he had nothing else to do and nothing really going on, and it was hard to see where the next week was going, let alone the rest of his life. It just simply wasn't much of a risk – the worst they could do was hurt him physically and right now, he just didn't care about his physical well being, so what the hell.

So he allowed himself to be pushed into the car, the doors shut and off they went.

Once they got in the car Dan attempted to start a conversation. "Whose your employer?" he asked the large man squeezed in next to him.

The man looked at him, ignored the question and offered Dan a bottled water. Dan accepted, and the man looked away. Dan got the distinct impression that the large man considered him to be unworthy of conversation – there was a distinct 'you maggot' look in the man's eyes and, as it was not something Dan was unfamiliar with, he just shrugged it off, took a drink of water and watched the world go by outside.

While the car drove, Dan went over his life. Wondering if he was on his way to the end of it, or some kind of incredibly bad situation. Had he made a huge mistake getting into a car with large guys who obviously looked down on him? Well, obviously he had. It was a stupid thing to do, but then he honestly didn't have anything to lose right now anyway. If it ended badly, who would care? June? She'd already indicated in her actions that she didn't. He had friends – he was staying with one now, - but he also knew he wasn't special to anyone. He had no family remaining, no one to miss him. His life, to date, wasn't anything to write home about – the best thing in it was June and now that was gone too.

He looked back on his early life, considering what he should have done different.

Dan was brought up in Madison, Wisconsin. He was a cheesehead, born and bred. His mother, Grace, was a teacher on the west side of Madison, on one of the new schools there. His Father, Bruce, worked for a company that supplied heavy farm equipment for the local farmers. Neither was exotic, but the two loved each other. They'd had one child before Grace had a problem with her tubes with an endoscopic pregnancy, and required surgery that had saved her life, at the expense of having more children.

Dan was, therefore, an only child. He grew up in a fantasy world of his own devising. Dungeons and Dragons, Lord of the Rings, comic books, stories, he was an unusually imaginative boy. He wrote, he read, he played games, video games and generally immersed himself in every creative outlet he could find.

Girls played second fiddle to this, although not consciously – he just didn't know how to even talk to them. He went red when a girl talked to him, stammered out the wrong words and fled. Given he, nor his group of friends could talk to girls and that most of them looked down on him anyway, he just gave up and went deeper into the fantasy realm, writing scripts and plays instead.

This lasted until Dan got to the University of Wisconsin. He went on a full scholarship, studying English. He had already made up his mind that he wanted to write scripts – he didn't aspire to the fancy 'playwright' term – he wanted to write scripts for TV shows, with lots of violence, sex and fantasy. While we was at University, he had his first sexual experience, and boy, did it suck.

He was on the DJ circuit while at University, since it paid well, the work was easy and he had a flair for it. He DJ'd at various functions, frat parties and so on, and enjoyed it. At one party, he met Amy. She hung around his DJ booth and when the party was done, took him home. It was his first time and he felt like it was a disaster. They had a good time, but he fumbled, couldn't get his cock into her hole from the correct angle, lent on her hair; all the things a first time virgin struggles with.

The following week he took her to a frat party he was DJing, and while he was peeing in the bathroom, he could hear a couple of the frat guys outside talking, while they waited to use the bathroom.

"Wow, did you see who Amy is with tonight?" said one. 

"Yeah, the man mountain. Man that girl is such a whore. I had no idea she was a chubby chaser!"

Even then, Dan was large – not the size he was now, but still, he was packing the pounds.

"Man, I gotta tell you, seeing her with him makes me seriously revaluate whether I am going to continue to do her. I mean, she's fun and all, but who the hell wants to be seen hanging out with a chick that would do a guy like that?"

"For realz man," replied the other guy.

And that had basically taken care of that. He'd gone back to the party, put on a couple more records, and when Amy came over to talk, he'd just looked at her and said two words, "Chubby chaser?"

Dan was about as non confrontational as you could get. He couldn't handle conflict – he got clammy hands and sweated and didn't know what to say. His fight or fight reflex always chose flight – the only time it hadn't, when he was 12, he'd got a hiding off a 16 year old and he'd never forgotten it. And so now, he felt it again when she looked at him.

She'd bit her lip, spread her eyes wide and said, "So what?"

He'd turned to put on another record and when he turned back to her, she'd gone.

He looked around for her and 15 minutes later, he'd spied her walking up the stairs, hand in hand with some other guy. He'd managed to catch her eye as they went, and she smiled at him and shrugged, and that was the end of that. He'd see her around campus on occasion, but every time he did, he got up and walked the other way. Dan realized he was a large man, but he also realized he did have some pride, even if it wasn't as big as his body.

And then he met June. He'd been working in the admin building – more side jobs; the scholarship had paid for his tuition but not much more and if he wanted spending money, well, work was calling. 

Dan was handy with computers – he'd done a preliminary course in python coding and was helping out with the admins process. The auto generation of new students accounts had bugs in it and emails addresses weren't being generated correctly, and he was determined to fix it.

He'd been working on it a few days and had noticed some of the other people working in the office. As a temp, he wasn't part of the normal office pool and he had to figure out who people were by himself. And then there was June. Everyone knew June. You couldn't not know June.

She was tall, 5'7" – she weight exactly 130, she had C cups breasts, with cleavage, and she had red hair that came straight to her shoulders. Her eyes were the deepest blue Dan had ever seen and when she smiled, she did it with her whole face. She drank red wine, she hummed to herself and she wore clothes that somehow looked classy and slutty at the same time. She was hit on by everyone imaginable and for some reason she turned them all down. The rumor was that she was a lesbian, but he'd seen her turn down a couple of the hot cheerleaders too, while working at the office, so he was pretty sure she wasn't.

Everyone knew June – she was studying business management and working in the admin office. He knew he stood no chance whatsoever – she was a 9 and he was barely a 4. He didn't even try – he just kept in the background and observed when he could and smiled at her if she passed by.

And then his break came. One of his plays was selected by the drama society. Dan was beside himself – it was a small play he'd written called "A solo for two". It was for two people only and detailed the rise and fall of a relationship. He'd been quite surprised when he'd wrote it; it came out of nowhere. He just started writing and out it came. By the time he was done, he had no idea how it had come out – it was like he was channeling someone else. Literally, as he typed, idea's occurred and just got put down. It had been the most effortless thing he'd ever written and it showed.

So now the casting began, and as the author, he was invited to sit at the back of the small theater and watch. He didn't get to cast votes, but it was a nice offer by the university amateur dramatics society towards the author. He'd always wondered what happened when a director got hold of your script and took it in directions that the author hadn't specified; now he was going to find out first hand.

The casting took a while; they saw many combinations of men and women for the parts and while they settled on the male lead pretty quickly – a guy named Jason Brand stood out head and shoulders better than anyone else they saw – they couldn't figure who the female lead would be.

And then June stepped out on the stage. Dan was taken aback – he had no idea she was an actress, and the idea of her being in one of his plays gave him almost perverse pride. He was just worried that she'd be terrible.

But she wasn't. She blew everyone away and got the part almost instantly. Dan didn't know how to feel, and then, as she left the stage, June looked right at him, eye to eye. He felt an almost electric jolt and didn't know what he should do.

So he just went back to work. He wasn't invited to the rehearsals, and he was strangely ok with that. Not being present meant he didn't see what the director was planning with his baby and that was better than sitting at the back and wincing when he did something that Dan didn't agree with. Just safer all round for him to be removed from the process.

While he was working one afternoon, he became aware of a presence by his cube. He looked up from the monitor to see June standing there. Dan didn't know what to say – his mouth went dry and he could feel the flush starting in his skin.

"Um. Hey?" he said, trying to get something out, anything, to avoid the silence.

June smiled at him. "Hey," she said, "you're Dan, right? You wrote this?"

June held up the script for his play. Dan just nodded dumbly, not trusting himself to speak.

"I was hoping we might go over some of the background for Amy in this?" she said. "Jon, the director – he's good on technical direction, but honestly, I think some background would really help? Can I buy you coffee?"

Again, Dan, nodded dumbly. This heavenly creature wanted to buy him coffee. That was a first.

"Free now?" she asked.

Dan looked at his monitor, then back at her. His train of thought was completely broken and as such, why not?

"Sure!" he said brightly, and then mentally kicked himself for sounding like a dork.

So they had coffee, and they went over the script. Dan explained what he thought the characters were thinking in each scene, and then also explained that the script had been written as a stream of consciousness, and as such, sometimes even he wasn't sure what they were thinking or intending. A twenty minute coffee break turned into two hours, while he explained some of the fantasy references he'd used in the script, made jokes and generally felt at ease.

When they got back to the admin building, June leaned in and said, "Thanks Dan. That really helps. You know, you're a funny guy. We need to do this again sometime!". And then she left and he couldn't help but watch her ass sway in that tight skirt.

As he walked back to his cube, he could feel the looks from everyone else. He could even write the dialog going on in their heads at that moment – 'All that effort and she goes for coffee with him?' or 'What the hell does he have he have that I don't?' and so on.

As it was, two days later, June was back. And they did it again. A two hour lunch break where they talked of the future, their plans, their pasts, their families. It was great and Dan was extremely surprised at how comfortable he was with June – how she made him move past his awkwardness and into something a little more grown up.

They did two weeks of this, until he finally mustered up the courage to ask her for dinner. She looked shocked he asked, but then he could see her considering. She answered, "Sure, why not?" in a way that didn't exactly thrill him, but then he figured he got dinner with her and no one else had and as such, he shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

They went to dinner and it was pleasant, but he could tell she was holding back. They talked wine, the wine country, places they wanted to see, but the moment they went somewhere personal she walled off the conversation and returned it to non committal subjects.

He asked after the play and how it was going and she gave him a face. "Did you really have to write that amount of kissing in there? Jason keeps trying to make out with me and I have to go wash my mouth out afterwards. It's gross."

That gave Dan a moments panic – he'd quite forgotten how much romance was in the script and the thought of his June – somehow he'd already got into the internal habit of thinking of her as 'his' – making out with this studly actor made him freeze up.

June must have saw it because she then said, "Oh don't worry. He's as gay as they come. I think it's just hormonal."

They'd relaxed after that, finished up dinner with cognac – all the while Dan was internally working out why she had said what she said, why she was reassuring him and what that meant - and then he'd ferried her back to her dorm.

They stood outside her room and she suddenly got shy. She looked left and right, and then just gave him a smooch and said, holding him, "Dan, you really need to give yourself a break. I know you are trying hard, but you are a decent funny smart guy. Sometimes they do finish first. You wait."

Then she'd turned and gone in and he'd gone home, walking on air and not understanding how he got home at all, since he couldn't remember the journey.

The opening night of the play arrived, and Dan stood in the wings, watching the performance. The director had taken a few liberties with the script and characterizations, but on the whole, Dan was very happy with the whole thing. Particularly at one point where she'd come off stage, found him on the side of the stage and said, "Good, I'm so glad you are here. I had to kiss Jason again and it sucks. Come here..."

And then she'd given him the largest French smacker of his life. He couldn't believe it, but damn, he kissed her right back! He was left shell shocked, when after she was done she said, "That's so much better. I needed to get that taste out. Kissing you makes a girl understand what kissing is." And she'd smiled and run off to her dressing room to change for the next scene.

Dan spent the rest of the show in a daze. He couldn't take his eyes off June. She glowed, and he got a few smiles directed to him off stage, which warmed him through and through.

At the after party, he was standing by himself – he'd had small talk with the director and a couple of other people which had just run down by itself – and watched June interact. She was a natural people person, able to talk, flirt, be silly or anything that was required, without giving any of herself into the process. It was amazing to watch, right up to the point where the lighting lead put his arm around her and attempted to kiss her neck.

June simply was not having any of it. She yelled, "Get your DAMN hands OFF me." And then stepped out of his embraced and slapped him so hard, his drink spilled. Dan immediately lurched forward, although what he'd do if he got here in time he had no idea. As it was, June did know.

She just reached out grabbed his hand and said, "Please, lets get out of here. I can't deal with all these lecherous bastards."

And off they went together, to her dorm room. When they got there, Dan decided it was time for him to have the initiative, and he pushed her against the door and went for broke. And June loved it and responded in kind. They made out for a couple of minutes and then June broke the kiss and looked at him and said, "My room mate, slut that she is, will be out all night. She barely ever comes home at night these days. You wanna..?"

Dan couldn't believe it. "Yes, I Wanna!" he said firmly, and then they were tumbling inside and on each other.

This time, it was a rousing success. Dan had decided that if there was ever to be a repeat of the Amy fiasco, he was going to do his research and perform. He'd gotten every sex book he could lay his hands on, every instructional video he could find and learned all he could. He knew there was an assload of difference between theory and implementation, but he also figured that without the theory, there would be no chance of implementation, and certainly no chance of getting better.


MetaMorph Ch. 01



Once he had June on the bed, it was time for the studies to begin and for him to lay out what he'd learned.

First, cunnilingus. She was naked on the bad, legs spread, smiling broadly at him. He looked at her perfect body, down at her sex, where she had a small landing strip and nothing else. Even her labia lips were inviting – just a hint of moisture, red and engorged and he just couldn't wait to get down there.

He dived in, licking up and down her thighs, from toes to inner thigh, slowly, making her tremble. He just breathed on her pussy lips, and he could hear her moan. From there he licked all around the lips, touching them once in a great while with the tip of his tongue, making it as fleeting as he could. Each time he did, June arched her back and moaned louder.

Eventually, making circles with his tongue, he touched her lips, and just drove his tongue in as deep as it would go, marveling at how wet she was.

She arched her back and cried out, "Oh fuck!" and he carried on his assault. He jumped between long licks from the top of her clit, all the way down to her asshole – he couldn't leave her asshole out of it, even that was perfect too! – tongue fucking her and twirling his tongue on her clit. June came at least twice and he was just a machine.

June bucked and was holding his head with both hands, pushing him into her. Eventually though, she just had to pull him off saying, "God you are amazing, but I really need to be fucked. Please, please fuck me." And then she kissed him full on the mouth, even though his face was glazed with her juices.

Dan was now a man on a mission – his cock was out and ready and about to burst it was so hard. As he moved to position himself, June grabbed his dick and looked up at him, wonder on her face. "Wow, you are a big boy! I had no idea...!"

Dan was pleased – he knew he had a seven inch cock and was slightly larger than the average, but he had no idea by how much. This boded well.

He lined up on her now very very wet pussy and without any warning, impaled himself to the hilt. According to his research, it was recommended that the first time, you gave no warning, no quarter and you just went for broke and fucked the shit out of the woman you are with. Then, on the second time, you took it slow and made love. That showed the woman that you are a man first and man with feelings second. That was the theory anyway.

When he thrust himself fully into June, she just lost it. She quivered and cried, "Oh my god, fuck me, fuck me Dan."

That was another good signal from the research – if a woman used your name, it meant she was into you, not just the experience. 

And fuck her he did. They were at it for almost forty-five minutes, in all positions. They started with missionary, then onto cowgirl, then on all fours, then missionary with her legs on his shoulders, so he could drive into her particularly deeply.

After forty-five minutes, both were basically depleted in terms of strength, yet, miracles of miracles, Dan had yet to cum. He'd been so intent on ensuring that he performed, that she get what she needed, that he hadn't really thought about it. He was beat, the sweat was dripping into his eyes, the bed was soaked and both of them ached.

Dan climbed off June and she just lay there, staring at the ceiling, breathing heavily. "Holy fuck on a stick, I needed that." She said in a breathless voice.

Then she rolled over and looked at Dan, "but you haven't cum yet?" she asked, quizzically. "Don't get me wrong, any man who can last like you is a keeper, but I want you to cum too."

Dan just smiled at her and said, "I wanted you to be ok. That's...important."

"Awwww," said June, "that's so sweet of you. God you are all of it, aren't you? Funny, smart, respectful, big cock, my god, I hit the jackpot with you. Can you cook, too?"

Dan honestly didn't know what to say to that. She seemed to be giving him too much credit. He couldn't believe he was here in the first place, now he'd fucked June and she was showering him with compliments. It didn't seem real somehow.

June then smiled wickedly and said, "I know how to get you off..." and she moved down to where his cock was still half hard. She looked him full in the eye, licked her lips and engulfed him. He hissed a large intake of breath – he would never have dreamed that she'd go down on him while he was still sticky with her juices, but apparently she did so with gusto.

She licked his dick up and down the shaft, licked his balls (although it has to be said, she did stop for a moment to pick some small hairs out of her mouth. She looked at him and said in all seriousness, "We need to invest in a shaver for this area" and then she carried on.) and then did something with his dick he'd never even heard of. She put the tip of his dick on the flat of her tongue, and used her hand to move it around, so the tip swirled around on her tongue, all the time keeping eye contact with him. When she did that, he gasped again and knew that he was going to blow soon. His breathing got shorter and shorter and June could see what was going to happen, and she was all for it. He erupted in her mouth, and stream after stream of his hot cum splashed either onto her outstretched tongue, or onto her face around her mouth. She loved it. She loved the fact that she could make him cum, that he was so into her and that she could do this for him. Plus, it made her feel a bit slutty and that was good too.

When he was done, she smiled up at Dan, showed him her tongue, covered in his cum, then swallowed and showed him her now empty mouth.

Dan couldn't take his eyes of her. And then she used a finger to scoop up some of the cum on her cheek and then licked that too. He honestly couldn't believe what he was seeing, but there it was.

She smiled at him and said, "Hey, you did it for me. I just want to make you happy."

Dan laughed and said, "Happy isn't quite the word for it. I feel like I died and went to heaven."

"Oh, that's so nice," said June, and then she snuggled her head onto his chest.

Dan really didn't want to break the spell, but he had to ask. "Doesn't it bother you?" he said.

June raised her head off his chest and said, "Does what bother me?"

"My size. I'm large guy June. I know what I am."

June just smiled at him and said, "Dan, your heart and your mind is what I love. The body is just a shell. You are a good and decent guy and this doesn't hurt either." She tweaked his softening cock. "As far as I'm concerned, there is just more to love and more weight to put behind this when you are banging me."

There was a silence as both sides digested what she'd said. Dan just didn't know how to respond. She had said she loved him. He was gauging responses when she said, "Yeah, I said it. If you don't say it back I'm going to kick you out of here."

Dan felt a tear on his cheek. He tried to say something, fumbled and then pulled himself together. He sat up and June slid off his chest. She sat up, looking at him and smiling, and then she saw the tear.

"Ohh, baby, I'm sorry..." she started to say and Dan put his finger on her lips.

"June, I don't even know where to begin. You are the beauty, I'm the beast – no, I know what I am, I know what people say. I can't even begin to fathom what you see in me, but you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Even if it was just tonight, I would be grateful to you forever. You are smart, you are clever, you are hot as fuck and I just can't believe you are as into me as you say. However I need to say this. I love you. I've loved you since the moment you stepped on that stage. All those coffee meetings – I could just never let myself deal with it because I knew you'd break my heart. You are, well, you. And I'm me. I'm so into you I cannot breath sometimes, but I also know we are two different levels and even though this is awesome and you said what you said, I can't quite get it."

June looked at him, then impulsively kissed him. He could taste himself on her, and while it wasn't something he would have done off his own back, he felt that the kiss was more important than anything.

When she broke the kiss, she looked at him, blue eyes glittering and said, "Dan Perry, you are an idiot. But you are my idiot. You don't understand at all. All I get are horny boys who want to fuck me. I have been holding out for a man. A man who respects me, who wants me, who is smart, who is clever, who makes me gasp. And you do it for me. You need some more self-respect, but it's also the fact that you aren't an arrogant SOB that is part of what does it for me. You are just you, and I respect that. I don't give myself to just anyone, so please, understand what it is that we are doing here. I love you and I want to be with you. Please, don't stop that happening."

Dan laughed and said, "June, there is zero chance of that. I want to be with you too. I just..."

"Hush, honey," said June, putting her finger on his lips, "shut up now and lets do it again."

And they did. Slowly this time, but with no less passion. They tried only the positions that allowed them to look at each other while they made love – missionary was his favorite, since then he could smother her in kisses while he thrust inside of her. He found she particularly loved him kissing and biting her neck as he pumped at her.

They were slower, and the tiredness of the former fuck session took its toll. However, after twenty minutes of slow love making, he felt himself hitting the peak again. He gasped to June, "I'm...I'm..."

She looked up at him, reached up and cupped his face in her hand and said, "Do it lover. Cum in me. I want your cum deep in me. Do it for me."

And he did, sending jet after jet into her willing hole.

He collapsed onto her when he was done, and she held him, smiling and putting butterfly kisses on his forehead. They both went to sleep happy and content.

After that they were rarely apart. They found reasons to text each other and leave each other notes. One night, when Dan was working late at the admin building, he knew that only he and June were in the building, and she stopped by his cube. He could see she was wearing the pencil skirt he liked and she looked down at him working.

He looked up at her with a big grin and she said, "Mr. Perry, I need to see you in the conference room, right now please."

He followed her in, and she pushed him down in one of the plush chairs and said, "Mr. Perry, I appear to have an itch, I would rather like you to do something about it."

As she did so, she pulled on leg up on the conference table and the skirt rode up. He could see she wasn't wearing panties underneath and he looked up at her, curiously. She smiled back and said, "Not worn any all day. I wanted to see what the effect would be. And now I know, and I also know you have your work cut out for you. Get on with it, please."

And he did. He ate her for almost forty minutes. There was no other sex, apart from him making her cum three times through just eating her pussy and ass. His face looked like a glazed jelly donut by the time he was done and his tongue felt like he'd been weight lifting with it, but it was worth it. She fell on him and kissed him hard, and then licked her juices off his face and he felt vindicated once again.

Another time, when they were driving to have dinner with his folks, she blew him the entire car journey, never letting him cum, even though driving him right to the edge several times. She only relented as he pulled into his parent's driveway, letting him explode in her mouth in an epic eruption. She licked her lips, looked up at him and said, "I can't wait to meet your parents with your cum in my mouth."

Yes, June could be a dirty little woman when she wanted to be.

Over the next year, they continued to date, and in the last year of university, they actually got a small apartment together. Only a one bedroom, but Madison was pretty cheap to live. They spent their time in bed, cooking or at parties. They never went more than two days apart and they just fell deeper and deeper in love.

They talked about everything – how many kids they wanted, which was none. Dan was ok with having some later in life, but June was Not Interested, in capitals. She didn't want to ruin her body and she felt she just didn't have the patience for kids. Dan wasn't altogether thrilled about that, but on the other hand, kids vs June, well, it was no contest.

They talked about vacations, where they wanted to go, and one what anniversaries they'd fulfill them. They talked about sexual fantasies – of course Dan wanted the two women one, but June just smiled at him and said, "It's great as a fantasy. The reality wouldn't measure up." And Dan had to agree.

It turned out that Dan had already fulfilled most of Junes fantasies – he wasn't entirely sure about that since in his experience, once you fulfilled one, three others took their place, but he took June on her word.

In fact, they behaved like people newly in love and acted like it for months.

Dan stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop, stopped waiting for her to say, "Dan, we need to talk..." and just settled and enjoyed life. He kept writing and eventually both graduated with honor degrees.

They then had to decide what to do next. Dan had his sights set squarely on Hollywood. He didn't want to write the next Citizen Kane, he wanted to write episodes of Lost. And to be successful, you needed to be in Hollywood. He took June out for dinner, sat her down and explained his Plan. He wanted them to move to LA and get work in the entertainment industry. That's what he wanted.

June sat back, considered, at dinner and had an after dinner port. She asked questions like, "OK, you are a mega successful writer. What am I doing?"

Dan looked at her and said, "Whatever you want to. The fact is, and lets be honest here June, you are hot. You are smart. You are clever, cleverer than pretty much most of the guys out in LA. You can pretty much do anything you want. We'll do it together!"

June considered some more and then hesitantly said, "Well, it's not forever, is it? If it doesn't come off, we can go somewhere else? I mean, LA is not where I thought I'd end up but at this point, I guess we can go anywhere, and LA is as good as anywhere else. Nice sun. Maybe I can be an actress?"

She smiled at him, and thought, 'what the hell, in for a penny...' and said, "Why not? Lets do it! We have enough cash to survive a year or so. Lets give it a try!"

Dan smiled back at her and let go of a breath he didn't know he was holding. So far so good. Now the next hurdle, and this one was the biggie. He nodded at the maître D, who had been hovering nearby.

The music came up a bit – they were playing Follow You, Follow Me, by Genesis. June perked up on hearing it, and smiled at Dan, leaning forward and holding his hand. This was their song. Dan took a deep breath, got up and got down on one knee, pulling out the ring in his pocket.

June was taken aback. She had not remotely expected this. Dan was pulling out the stops – he got on one knee and looked up at her and said, "June, will you marry me?"

June just smiled back at him. While she hadn't spent much time thinking about being married, she knew instantly that there was only one answer she was prepared to give, and that was "Yes," with a capital Y.

She kept smiling as Dan stood and embraced her, dragging her off her chair. The ring fitted perfectly and was the understated diamond she had always wanted – not in a high setting but set into the ring. That way she'd not drag it across fabrics she might be wearing.

There was applause, a bottle of Champaign was brought and as the wine waiter popped the cork, he looked at June, looked at Dan, winked at Dan and said, "I think she's a definite keeper sir. No question."

Dan knew it was a back-handed compliment at best – what the man really meant was "If she is prepared to marry you, then you should never let go!" but Dan was in good mood and just let it go.

They were married four months later. June didn't want to go in for a big wedding, and they were broke anyway. Junes sister and mother attended – neither of them had met Dan before and again, his personal detector picked up that they didn't really approve of him, but June just didn't care, and if she didn't, neither did he.

Dan's mother and father both attended, and it was a spectacular evening. They even ended up in a gothic nightclub on the east side, for Leather and Lace night. June, in her off the shoulder wedding dress, was a massive hit and she danced with pretty much everyone. They tumbled into their downtown hotel at 4am, drunk and massively happy.

A month later, they said goodbye to their small circle of friends and moved to LA. They found a small apartment in West Hollywood, and set out to make their fortunes. They made jokes about it – Dan even had pictures made of the two of them hitch hiking on the expressway, with 'Hollywood or Bust' written on their luggage, and other pictures of the two of them with sticks and bundles on the ends of the sticks, like in the old black and white movies.

They were both realistic. They knew success doesn't come over night – Dan got a job in a comic book store and June took temping work while they looked for more fulfilling work.

Initially, June had tried out for some acting parts. She got an agent, got called to a few casting calls, but after the fourth one, she came home, threw her purse on the couch and announced to Dan, who was sitting at the side table, on his mac, writing a spec script, "Well, that's not going to work out. Gonna have to find something else other than acting I think..." 

Dan stopped typing and looked over at June, who was now stretched out on the couch, theatrically, and arched an eyebrow. She looked up at him and said, "Honey, be a dear and get me glass of wine. Today has taken it out of me."

Dan did as he was bid and brought it to June who sat up and sipped it. "Oh, the Shiraz. Just what I needed."

Dan said nothing, waiting for June to talk. He knew she would, she just needed to get certain pleasantries out of the way first. It was just the way she was, never straight to the point. She always got there, but in her own way and in her own time.

Eventually it came out. "Some of those girls are real lookers you know Dan. I mean Marilyn Munroe style. I really don't feel I can compete."

Dan could empathize. He didn't feel he could compete with any of the hard bodies he saw running around Hollywood. And then she said something he really didn't like.

"And those casting directors. Yeah, they say the casting couch is gone, but it's not. They don't ask you for stuff outright, but you can tell it's there. They are waiting for you to offer. It's revolting."

Now Dan was concerned and he showed it. June took another sip of wine, smiled and put down the glass and got up and hugged him tight.

"You don't have to worry honey. I am a one man woman. I am not about to compromise myself for some scumbag director, don't you worry."

Dan was slightly mollified but still glad that June had decided that life was not for her.

So, in typical June style, she decided to go in a different direction.

She got out her kindle, got every book she could find on movie production and spent two months reading them all. Then she restructured her resume to be oriented towards movie and television production work and went looking for a job as an associate producer in the movies! Along for the ride and determined to support his wife, Dan learned all about the job. 

An associate producer is the movies is someone that is usually brought on for the actual production cycle of a movie, typically while they are actually shooting. Pre-production is when the movie is starting up – scripts are written and modified, locations are scouted and arrangements made to use them. Special effects companies are recruited, story boards are drawn up, grip, lighting guys and makeup crews are hired, actors are hired, sets are constructed on sound stages and so on.




MetaMorph Ch. 01



Then actual production occurs, and that's when everyone comes together to actually make a movie. The actors are on set, made up and the camera crews roll and the director directs. Depending on the amount of special effects, both real and post (post effects are applied once the filming is done, like CGI effects of filling in a futuristic city scape. Real effects are done on set – explosions, squibs, that emulate being shot and so on) a shot can take anywhere from an hour to several days to set up, and everything needs to be right first time.

Once principle photography is completed, the movie moves into post production. All the grips and lighting crew and film crews and makeup crews are let go – since they are all under short term contract anyway, and know this is a short term gig -, and the post production special effects companies get involved, plus the soundtrack gets composed, recorded and the editing of the raw footage into a finished movie gets done.

Depending on the amount of CGI work a movie may require, it's not unusual for a movie to finish principle photography and then still not come out for another 18 months while all the computer generated imagery is constructed.

Sometimes during post production, actors are required to return and re-record dialog lines or add new ones, or in the worst case, reshoot entire new scenes because of a change of script or the fact that one of the scenes shot just doesn't work – it needs to be a night but was shot during the day.

June learned that on any given set or soundstage, there were anywhere from three hundred to a thousand people all working to build a shot at any given time. And these people needed organizing. While there may be three of four producers on a movie, making the big decisions about which headlining actor to hire or what script to go with, or trying to raise money from studios or movie financiers, there was also a small army of associate producers who actually did all the work. The script may call for a hurricane scene, but that means that on the day of shooting, there has to be water on the set, and a small battery of fans, and people to throw the water into the fans. So they have to find companies to hire the fans from, arrange for them to be on set at the right time, and negotiate a good price for the use of those fans.

She found that these people were generally hired during pre-production, really used hard for principle photography, then let go immediately afterwards. Everything in Hollywood is a short-term contract. You are hired for a short term contract – say three or four months, - paid exorbitantly well for those months, then cut free once it was done.

Dan was surprised to learn that the production companies – the companies that actually made movies, which wasn't the big studios like Universal or Warner Brothers – didn't own anything. They rented or leased everything, because they were designed to be short-term companies. Most production companies come into being just for the duration of making a movie. They form, hire people, make a movie, sell it to the distributor – like 20th Century Fox – and then quietly go away. Apparently it was some kind of tax dodge. They – like everyone else – had thought when you saw the Universal Studios logo at the start of a movie, it meant it was made by them. While it was true that Universal and Paramount did still fund movies, most of the time the movies made there are made by other production companies just renting their studio facilities and then selling them the movie once it was done. Television, they found, is made in much the same way. Just because a show is on NBC doesn't mean NBC actually made it at all – even if it was shot in the NBC studios. Often it was made by an external production company renting the facilities.

June was also shocked to discover that almost none of these assistant producer jobs were advertised anywhere, either. Sure, there was a union, but the union only safe guards the conditions of a job, it doesn't help you get one, nor does it safeguard that job once you got it.

You got jobs purely through word of mouth and on reputation. Someone would get hired early on, then find the need for several AP's and then contact people they'd worked with before, looking to either hire them or get recommendations on other people. It was all strictly peer recommendations, which meant it was very hard to break in to, but once you were in, providing you had any competency and didn't piss too many people off – which for an AP was hard, since part of the job was riding other people hard – there was lots of work to be had. Since everyone was only on a job for a short period of time, they moved around a lot and your name got known pretty fast if you were good at what you did.

June got her break on a student film. She literally answered an ad on craigslist, got the gig on a shoestring budget, but it was enough for her to petition the union for a union card, and once she got that and could show other production companies any experience at all, she was on the ladder.

June was a hit. She was competent, friendly, easy on the eyes and got stuff done on time, in budget and with a minimum of fuss. She soon settled into a schedule of four months on the job, and then two or three off. She was well paid enough that both her and Dan could survive on what they earned combined, and still save a little towards buying a house.

She worked on some larger movies – Lethal Weapon 6, Jurassic Park : Cretaceous (she kept pointing out how stupid the name was, but she was advised to shut up early on.) and others, plus some indie movies. She soon got a reputation for working hard, getting the job done and was recommended to other producers.

One thing that worked for her was a small idiosyncrasy she adopted early on. For each movie she worked on, she totally changed her look. On the Mel Gibson comeback movie, Little Angels, she was a blond with short spiky hair, and dark eyeliner. And the next movie, a Fargo brother comedy called Spanks the Clown, with Jim Carrey, she dyed her hair black and had it in a page boy bob. The next, her hair had grown a bit and she went red head, pulling it up into a bun, with deep red lipstick.

Dan loved it. As he proclaimed, "It's like getting a new wife every time you start a new movie." It became 'a thing' for June – stage hands would have bets on what her new look was going to be when she showed up for work on the first day.

The only downside for June in terms of her career was the fact that she point blank refused to take a job that was outside of LA. Lots of production companies make movies outside of LA, due to the tax rebates they get elsewhere or simply because of state based incentives. Lots of Eastern states offered a great rate for movie companies to film there, and the union rates were far lower. But June would not leave LA. It would mean she wouldn't come home for three or four months and she just wasn't up for that. As a result, several opportunities to advance were lost. The last one – to be a full producer on a Channing Tatum movie being shot in Vancouver, was particularly hard to let go, but June did it. She had made her stand and she wasn't going back on it.

However, while Junes career had a steady straight line going up, Dan's just...didn't go anywhere.

It's a truism that every waiter in LA is waiting to be discovered and constantly running off to casting calls – however what is less commonly realized is that everyone who is not an actor is, in fact a writer. LA is awash with them. Go to any Starbucks in the city, and sit and watch all the laptop crowd, and you can see at least three or four with Final Draft on their macbook screen, writing yet another draft of a script.

Dan just couldn't get traction. He was productive and wrote a lot, but nothing got picked up. He tried to get an agent, but no one was interested. It was a catch 22 situation. To get an agent, you needed to have something sold. But to get something sold, you needed an agent. He tried and tried, and while he thought his stuff was at least ok, he didn't either look the part of sell himself enough.

He tried several things – writing clubs, run by someone who 'had written an episode of Buffy!' but soon discovered that the reason these people were running writing clubs was that they couldn't sell anything either, so they fell back on teaching as a way to earn a living. He tried writing scripts for lots of the local script writing contests, and while he won a few, he also found that the script writing contest circuit was an end to itself. You could be the best in that group, but that still didn't mean production companies would come stampeding to your door, competing for your latest story.

June kept offering to take some of his work to the production companies that she worked for, but Dan, who had some self-respect, said No. He didn't put his foot down often, but he did with this. He wanted to be known for his work not because his hot wife pushed it, but because someone else recognized the value in it. He didn't have much respect for himself at this point, but what he did have, he wanted to keep. And June, wonderful June, respected that. She didn't stop offering but when he said no, she stopped asking. At least that month.

It was while he was working with a scripting mentor – someone Dan had zero respect for, since the hack who was 'mentoring' people had had one script made into a Stargate episode – that Dan had an experience that made him wonder at what was going on when June was at work.

The mentor – one Simon Mcriller, who was fond of making sound bite statements (it was his eternal hope that some of these sound bite statements would end up in someone's script) – had promised to take the students he had to a working stage in Universal studios, where a friend of his was script editor on a TV show being made there. At the time, June was working on a movie for Chris Nolan on Stage 39. The TV show was being shot on stage 36. Dan was hoping he could run across to Stage 39 and surprise June at work.

Once they'd sat through the TV show briefing and met the crew there – which was agonizing since Dan knew more about what most of the people there were supposed to do than they did. Sitting through Simon's long and tortuous – and often wrong – explanations of what was going on on set was bad enough. Knowing his wife was doing her thing two stage over was even worse.

At one point, Dan just slipped away. He was always surprised about how, once you got onto the ground at a major studio, you could pretty much go anywhere and enter any building, as long as it wasn't a closed set, and no one would say boo to you. Getting onto a studio required drive on passes and your car inspected and so on, but once you were there, you could go anywhere. Since so many of the stages were rented out by production companies that are only there for a few weeks, faces changed constantly and no one really knew who anyone else was. It was just supposed that if you were on the studio lot, you were meant to be there.

So Dan wandered up to stage 39, walked on to the stage and stood at the back, next the sound recordist, watching.

It was a busy set, people moving around. A shot had just wrapped and the director was giving instructions for the next shot. Dan saw June in the group of AP's who were organizing people. She wore a headset and walkie-talkie, as almost everyone on stage who is anyone does, and she was consulting an Ipad. Dan heard the director yell for June and she hurried over.

The director said, "June, I need the swamp setting ready to go in an hour, ok? It's all set right?"

June nodded, looked down at her Ipad and said, "Yeah. The only thing we haven't got set yet is the pond scum, but it doesn't last long so I didn't want to drop it in the water till ten minutes before we shoot. We only have so much of it and it's expensive. Otherwise I need to get the grips to respray the vegetation with water and we are good to go."

"Awesome," said the director, swigging water. "What would I do without you June?"

She gave him a tight smile and said, "About a hundred bucks an hour I should think."

And then off she went. Dan didn't want to interrupt and to tell the truth, he was just happy watching her at work. She was busy and didn't need him taking time out of her day.

It was only because he was watching June that he saw what happened next. In order for June to get to the next set, she had to go down the side of the current one – a relatively narrow corridor. Dan happened to be in the far corner and could see down the side of the set, and could see there was a group of 4 grips sitting on drums playing some card game. June walked down by the side of them and as she did so, they jumped up to talk to her. The guys basically blocked her path and she was forced to stop and make chat with them. Dan expressly saw one of them look around at the busy set and see that no one was paying attention. At that moment he knew something not good was going to happen and he started forward. He didn't see exactly what happened because one of the group obscured his view, but he heard the slap and the raised voice. Everyone on the set did.

"Who the FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?" shouted June, as she yelled into the face of one of the group. "FUCK YOU, You scum bag. You are SO FUCKING FIRED. Jim. JIM? Where the hell are you? Security?"

Jim was the name of the director, and he was on the other side of the set, talking to one of his assistant directors. June came bowling over to him, face flushed and evidently extremely pissed.

"Jim. I want that guy fired. Now. That fucking grip just pinched my ass. I want him done and out. Now."

Jim put up his hands. "Sure June, which guy was it?"

June pointed over at the group, who were rapidly vanishing to the four corners of the set. "Him, with the red cap." she said. "I want the union rep in here now, I am filing a grievance, and I want security to escort him off the premises, now."

"Whatever you say June." Jim, the director nodded at his AD and ran across to the stage manager, June in tow.

Dan didn't know what to do. Should he get involved? It looked like June had everything in hand and he wasn't supposed to be there anyway. Getting involved at this point would probably not be in Junes best interests – all he could do is go and add his voice to her cries and she was already several decibels over the limit -, so he decided that, in this case, discretion was the better part of valor and slipped away, planning to chat later. For some reason, it just didn't feel right to be involved. He knew it was probably his non-confrontational nature, but in this case it seemed appropriate.

That night, Dan cooked her one of her favorite dinners, shrimp and scallops in white sauce, with mushrooms, peas and bacon on eggplant noodles. He figured she'd need it.

When she came home, she was not in a good mood, so Dan massaged her feet, fed her wine and fed her dinner until her good humor came back.

After dinner, while they were sitting with yet another glass of wine and watching another episode of LOST – both of them were binge TV Show watchers; neither had the patience to watch week to week and instead waited till the box sets came out and watched them episode after episode over a week. Some nights, if they truly were engrossed, they'd watch four or five episodes in one go – he asked her about her day.

"How was today? You came home pretty annoyed? What's going on?"

June stretched out her arms and said, 'Oh nothing important. Just another day at the office, ho hum."

Dan didn't know what do with this. Should he tell her he was there? Should he just shut up?

It was obvious that on some days, lots more went on at work than June told him. On the other hand, he had visual evidence of her ability to both handle what occurred and also of her fidelity to him. On reflection, he decided to just not say anything. The most essential thing in maintaining any relationship is trust, and she'd demonstrated to him today that he could trust her to the end of the earth.

Maybe that's where he'd gone wrong. Nice guys are suckers, aren't they?

And so it went on. Years piled on years. Dan and June were happy, although Dan wasn't happy in his lack of success. He was involved in several web projects, some of which he was very proud of, but none of which seemed to hit the zeitgeist. Dan became very aware of how much luck really played a part in hitting it in Hollywood. But, as June often said, luck hits when you are prepared and are trying. If you aren't prepared and trying, it's that much less likely to hit. So he tried to keep his spirits up.

But in reality, he was just sinking lower and lower in a low level depression. His eating habits got worse, his exercise regime became walking from their apartment to the store and back. He played D&D more and more in a way to escape his own relative failure as a life. The only bright part in it was June, and as he got larger, their physical sex life decline.

Then, three years in, more bad news hit. His mother was diagnosed with cancer. It had already hit stage 3 and was moving into stage 4, with it metastising all over her body. She was gone within 5 months of the initial diagnosis – Dan moved back to Madison and was with her the whole time. He'd spend his days in the hospital, watching his mother wither away and his nights crying with June on the phone over how unfair it all was. Two months after her funeral, he buried his Dad, who had just given up. He was found dead in his bed, having passed away peacefully. Dan – as an only child – was left the house, only to find it had a small mortgage on it to help pay for his mothers treatment. He sold the house and basically broke even on it. After that, he retreated even more into himself. June did her best to bring him out and make him sit in the sun, metaphorically, but Dan's mood was dark and on top of his own self worth issues, he just couldn't seem to find his spirit any more.

June was in demand, the three months off between movies was now down to 4 weeks, and she was back in the saddle. She was tired constantly, and when they did have sex, his size now made it so doggy style was pretty much all he was capable of, due to his gut size. Dan was demoralized, sad and his wife was working so hard that their physical contact was minimal.

She still loved him – she came home one day with a signed copy of The Watchman graphic novel for him, just because she'd had a meeting with Zack Synder and mentioned her husband was a fan and he'd pressed it on her. Small signals, but it meant everything to Dan.

He was pretty much existed to love June at this point – he couldn't see any future for himself except for small writing jobs here and there – and so he made a point of doing just that.

And then the bottom dropped out of his world.



MetaMorph Ch. 02



His discovery happened like most discoveries of this nature do, because of a moment's decision to do something different.

An opportunity had come up for June. It was on a Sylvester Stallone action movie, being shot in Louisiana – in New Orleans. Sylvester Stallone – long a champion of those up and coming – had requested June work on his project, and he'd given her a full producer credit and a full time job, rather than purely short term contract. She would make twice as much as she normally did, get a full producers credit – which was worth gold in Hollywood – and she was now at the point where names in movies were requesting her presence. 

After hearing about it, June came home to find Dan sitting on the couch, trying to better his score on Call of Duty.

She stood right in front of the TV and said, "We need to talk, Dan."

Dan went cold. These were words that no man wants to hear. He instantly imagined the worst.

He turned off the TV and just sat there, waiting for her to end his life.

June started to explain the offer. It was shooting in New Orleans, but the actual shoot was budgeted out at 11 weeks. She'd be on staff for at least a month before that in LA, and then three months in post. She'd been offered a three thousand dollar a week stipend for when she was out of town, and as she explained, that money could be a down payment on a house, for the two of them, a dream they both shared. At the end of the explanation, June simply said, "It's a producer credit Dan. A producer credit. You know we've both been waiting for this. But I won't do it if you say no. It's your call."

Dan balked. He knew it was a good offer – a great one in fact. But it would take her away, and he was low enough already.

But he had to be strong. This is what she'd worked for. And he wasn't contributing much, so he had to support her, even if he didn't want her to go. He was a little resentful that it had been presented in the fashion it had; he couldn't very well say No when it was phrased the way it had been by June, but still, he loved his wife and he wanted her to be happy and successful, so he just said, "Sure, you should do it. But please, lets not make a habit of this."

June had smiled delightedly and thrown her arms around his neck, covering his face with kisses. That night, they had the best sex they'd had in months, although afterwards, Dan knew it was just because she had gotten what she wanted – that and the fact that soon she'd be gone.

The next day June confirmed her acceptance of the position, within a week she had reported for work – this time she had gone full on 1940's screen siren. Her hair had grown back and she was a chestnut brunette – with long luxurious draped hair and full on 1940's style makeup.

She took Dan's breath away the first day they had breakfast before she reported for work.

The first month was grueling for both. June had to get up to speed and get production moving on the movie and Dan had to sit there watch it, helpless to assist. And then it was time for June to go. Dan took her to the airport, and they stood at the security gate, professing endless love for each other. For the first time since he had proposed, Dan saw a tear on Junes face as she kissed him and held him. And then it was time for her to go, and she left, waving at him through the security line until she was swallowed by the airport.

Dan returned to an empty apartment and sat in the dark for hours, drinking Jack and Coke and wondering how he could be so lucky and so unlucky at the same time. He had the most awesome girl in the world and he was miserable because he didn't feel like he deserved her.

For the first 5 weeks, she called every day, sometimes twice a day. Then it became every other day, and the calls became shorter. She sent emails, and most of those started to go down to two or three lines. He could see the stress on her – being a full producer was a seriously higher level of stress over what she'd been carrying so far in her career and he could read between the lines that she'd been unprepared for it.

Then an email arrived telling him she'd be back for a couple of days – apparently one of the actors they'd used and finished with needed to re-record some lines since some dialog had changed and she needed to be back in LA to supervise the ADR recording. Dan was overjoyed.

He met her at the airport and was surprised at how tired she looked. All the way back to the apartment he peppered her with questions, but she just wasn't interested in answering, staring out the window the whole way. Dan put it down to jet lag, tiredness in general and did his best to make sure she had a good meal when she got home.

Once she was home, June sat at the dinner table and just complained about everything. The movie, working for a super star, the other production staff, how hot it was, how New Orleans was too loud – how they'd been put up at a hotel one road down from Bourbon Street, which was great to start with but by the second week, when all anyone wanted was sleep, they were kept up all night by the rowdy crowds. They would have moved, but the production company had gotten a great deal on the rooms and as such, they were staying.

Then she lit into Dan, saying the apartment was a mess, he was a slob and what the hell was he trying to serve her for dinner?

Dan was taken a back. This was a side to June he'd not seen much of and while he understood she was tired, there was something underlying her outbursts. When the got into bed, he tried to give her a foot massage and she snatched her foot back and said, "I'm just tired Dan. You have no idea what it's like to be nursemaid to those assholes." Then she turned her back and went to sleep.

The next day she was gone before he woke up and he found a note saying she would be out all day at the recording studio, and back late, and that she had to leave early in the morning.

When she got home, Dan hadn't prepared anything, thinking they could go out for a meal. When he was honest with himself, it was because he didn't want to prepare anything and have her attack him again. He thought if they went wherever she wanted, she had no reason to be as pissed off as she evidently was.

So they went to Katsuyua Sushi, in Brentwood – one of her favorite places. She actually managed to be in a better mood and they had a great night. She explained how the movie was staring a new up and coming actor, and this guy had seriously let one good review go to his head. His ego was out of control and it was her job to keep him happy. She did impressions of him demanding stupid stuff and making outrageous demands, and it was her job to say no, but not piss him off unduly while doing it. Dan began to see how wearing that could be.

After dinner, they went home and Dan poured a glass of wine for the both of them, and went for the foot massage again. This time June was receptive, and basically sat back, watching him.

When he was done, she put down her drink and sat down on the carpet next to him and said, "I really don't deserve you Dan. I honestly don't."

She was near to sobbing, something Dan had never seen before. He just held her until she got herself under control, then took her to the bedroom where they made love. Or at least that was the plan. When they got to the bedroom, June just changed. Suddenly she was desperate for his cock. She just pulled down his pants and stuffed her face in his groin, catching his rapidly hardening cock in her mouth. She sucked and licked at his cock like a madwoman, keeping her eyes on his as she did it.

She kept popping his cock out and rubbing it over her face and saying, "You like that baby? You like your cock over your little wife's face? You wanna coat me with cum, do you? Tell me, tell me you do."

That was also new. While June could be verbal while they were having sex, it was normally moaning or the occasional "Fuck me" – actual conversation, particularly a nasty as this – was a new thing. Not that Dan was complaining. It was new but also rather novel – he was getting off on his efficient and prim wife saying such nasty things.

She wouldn't let Dan cum though. She kept him hard, and then, pausing only to pull her clothes off franticly, she turned and got on all fours and presented her ass to him. She looked back and said, "You gonna fuck me stud? I need it. I need it now."

And Dan did. Without any messing around or preamble, he just shoved his cock in hard; just like he had the very first time they had sex. And like that time, he just slid right in. June was wet – she was dripping – and his cock just plowed her.

Her back arched and she started the moaning, interspersed with statements like, "Oh god yes." And "I need this. Fuck me. Fuck your wife. Fuck your wife's cunt."

First the verbals and now the bad language. This was getting interesting!

Dan just kept on going to town at her pussy. At one point he almost pushed her over, he was banging so hard. When that happened June moved forward and Dan's cock popped out and he almost cried out with frustration.

June looked back, smiled and told him to lie down. She then mounted his obscenely hard cock that was jutting up with reverse cowgirl and just did all the work herself. What was even hotter was that the long mirror in their bedroom just happened to be pointing at the bed, so Dan could raise his head a little, crane it a bit and he could see June in the mirror, impaled on his cock, bouncing up and down, with her eyes closed and a finger clamped to her clit.

He could feel her getting closer and closer until she moaned loud enough to wake the neighbors, shook all over and then collapsed back on him. That hurt, since he was still full engorged and still inside her, and when she tilted back, it took his cock to a painful angle.
He had to push June off and dis-engage his rapidly softening cock before something got torn.

June rolled over and slowly her breathing returned to normal. She smiled up at Dan and said, "Christ I needed that."

The she looked down to Dan's slowly wilting cock and frowned and said, "Did you get off yet?"

Dan just looked at her and then shook his head. He started to say, "It doesn't matter" when June interrupted him and said," Yes it does. Don't be so stupid. Hmm... I know what we need to do..." and she got a wicked smile on her face.

"Think I'm wet back there?" she asked Dan, who had a birds eye view.

"Err, yes," he replied, "I'd say so."

"Good," said June. She got back on all fours and wiggled her ass at him and said, "Do me, Dan. Do me in the ass. But go slow. But do it."

She wasn't entire coherent but Dan didn't care. He was mesmerized. He'd wanted to fuck her ass for years, but every time he'd tried, she'd either yelled at him or moved herself so the angle wasn't there.

Now she was inviting him and he didn't need a second invitation. By now his cock was rigid again – in fact you could probably have pounded nails in with it by now.

He dipped it in her pussy again, to get it lubricated, and she groaned as he did it. Then he pulled it out and stuck three fingers in instead, to lubricate those too. She groaned again and pushed back on his fingers, needing the invasion.

Once his fingers were well coated, he rubbed them around her anus, and slowly inserted one, doing his best not to get his fingernails in the way. He was aware how sensitive the inner walls could be and he didn't want to tear anything.

As he pushed the first finger in, June stiffened and jerked forward, away from his finger, but he just went with her, leaving his finger inside. After a moment or two, June started to relax and he began pushing his finger in and out, slowly. She got into the rhythm and started to push back on the finger, until Dan added a second one, and then a third. Each time it took June a few moments to become used to her ass being stretched, but after a few moments, Dan got back into finger fucking her ass and she started to get into it.

Then, after he had three fingers in her up to the knuckle, he popped his fingers out, and positioned his iron cock back at her pussy, thrust it in and out a few times to recoat it with her juices – and he noticed that June was starting to pant again, signaling how into the whole situation she really was – and then he popped his cock out and positioned at her brown ring. He slowly pushed forward and suddenly his helmet pushed into her ass.

All the books say that now, you stop and just wait, while the lady adjusts internally. Certainly moaned sharply, and not the 'fuck me harder' kind of moan. This was pain. Dan instantly went to move and pull his cock out when June said, "No, leave it there. I just need to get used to it... give me a minute."

So Dan just knelt there, waiting for June to make the next move. And she did. Very slowly she inched backwards, impaling herself more on Dan's rigid cock. He could hear her gasp as she did so.

For his part, he couldn't believe how tight her asshole was. Beyond that, it was just velvety, but right around the asshole itself, it clenched at his cock and he loved the feeling.

Slowly, June built up a rhythm, of pushing back and Dan moved in the opposite way. Within a couple of minutes, the rhythm was starting to move faster and June suddenly said, "Christ Dan, fuck me. Fuck my slutty ass. Fuck it hard, lover. I want to feel you cum."

Well, that pretty much did it as far as Dan was concerned, and he suddenly became a powerhouse of fucking. He banged his wife's ass with all his three hundred pounds behind it, and she'd know she was fucked in the morning, that was for sure.

It didn't take long for him to loose control, not with the new and nasty experience of him doing her ass, and he begging for it repeatedly. After ten minutes, he felt it coming on, and it engulfed him, and he spurted deep inside her, gasping for breath as he did so.

His cock softened and flopped out of her, and he sank down on the bed next to her. June rolled over and looked at him through long eyelashes and smiled. "You like that?"

Dan just nodded, still trying to catch his breath. Once he did he said, "Why did we wait so long for that?"

June looked into the distance and after a while said, "I just need you to know how much I love you. This was for you. You deserve it. You are the best man I know and I need you to know that."

That was an unusual statement from June, normally after they had made love, she got a drink and made silly small talk. A heartfelt statement was out of place. But then, Dan reasoned, what they had just done was out of place too, so perhaps that was ok. Either way, he was content to go with the flow.

However, the next morning, June was in a less pleasant mood. They both got up early, and June repacked to return to New Orleans, knowing better what she'd need this time. She couldn't find anything she wanted and her temper frayed very fast.

When Dan made breakfast, she just looked at it and said, "I don't have time for this." And then marched out to the car.

The drive to the airport was made in tense silence, June again alone with her thoughts. The only thing she said on the entire drive was, "I really wish I didn't have to go back. I don't like it there."

Dan looked at her, wanting to say something but didn't really know what to say. He offered the statement, "You don't have to go. You can stay here if it's that bad," to which he got a scathing reply of "It doesn't matter what I think. I have a contract and I need to get this done."

And that ended that conversation.

She insisted he drop her off rather than come in and she literally just jumped out of the car, had the trunk open and yanked her carry on out before Dan was out of the drivers side and round the car.

She stood waiting for him, radiating impatience as he came to give her a kiss goodbye and turned her head a the last minute so he got the side of her face instead.

Dan was taken aback, this wasn't the June he had made love to – no fucked – last night, or the June he'd live with for the past few years. The stress of the job was obviously eating her and he made an internal pledge that this would be the last time she worked away from home, if he could help it.

Not even looking at Dan, June took hold of her bag and walked off into the terminal. Dan stood staring after her in dismay, until he was yelled at by an airport cop for leaving his car running at the curbside.

He scrambled back into it and with one last glance at the terminal doors, he drove off.

Two days later he was sitting in his friend Donnie's, basement. Donnie was a classic dopehead dropout. Young, stupid in lots of ways and incredibly smart in others, he lived in the basement of the house he'd inherited from his mother when she died the year before. No one quite knew why he still lived in the basement when he had the whole house to himself and when questioned, he just shrugged and said, "I'm used to it, man." Donnie worked at the same comic book store as Dan, handling the comic ordering chores.

They sat there, playing Zork on a laptop and with Dan pouring out his heart and fears to Donnie, who sat there, nodding interestedly even though he was patently stoned out of his mind. In fact, this was the only reason that Dan even was unburdening himself, because he knew Donnie would never remember anything he said when he sobered up.

He didn't expect much from Donnie – Donnie was one of those people who believed in the romance of life – whatever life threw at you, true love could overcome. No one knew quite why Donnie believed this so much because besides his mother, Donnie had never had a relationship with a woman last more than twenty minutes, and even then money usually had to change hands. 

Donnie listened politely, sparking up another joint, taking a deep breath and handing it to Dan, and said, "Dude, why are you still here?"

That was unexpected. "What do you mean?" asked Dan, genuinely curious.

"Well, why the hell aren't you there with her? I mean, why are you here and she is there? If it's all such true love, why don't you go with her? What's keeping you here?"

That one stopped Dan. He simply hadn't thought of going with her.

"Besides," continued Donnie, "Think of how romantic it would be. You show up at her hotel, blasting music and protesting eternal love. Throw rose petals on her bed. Wake her with Champaign. She can't resist man!"

Donnie took back the joint and took another deep drag.

"Er, Donnie, I think that's the plot to that Jon Cusack movie? The one with the ghetto blaster?"

Puffing out the smoke, Donnie said, "Whatever dude. You know it's right."

Dan sat there, thinking it through. The idea wasn't half bad. He had enough cash to buy himself a return flight – even if he didn't stay, he could at least have a week with her, and they could patch up whatever was bothering her.

The more he thought about the idea, the more he wanted to do it – surprise her. The worst that could happen is dinner with his wife in an exotic city and some bumming around a place he'd never been before while she worked in the day.

So that's what he did. He bought a Southwest return ticket – that way he could come home when he wanted rather than being set on a specific day, so he wouldn't outlast his welcome. He packed up a bag, included a bottle of Champaign and even rose petals in a plastic bag. And off he went.

Dan had never been to New Orleans before, and drank in the trip for the airport to downtown, marveling at the French influence in the architecture, and looking at all the Hurricane Katrina damage with depression.

He was dropped off at the hotel the production company just after 8pm. He wanted to surprise June, so he approached the main desk to get a key card to her room. In the end it took both his ID and a fifty note to get the card, but once he had it, he went up to her room.




MetaMorph Ch. 02



As expected, it was a mess – her clothes were all over the place. June always was a bit of a slob. The first thing he did was drag out the Champaign and order ice and two glasses from room service, as well as a bucket. Then he scattered the rose petals on the bed, and then realized how scummy he felt from the four-hour flight.

He went into the small bathroom and took a shower, closing the door so the steam wouldn't steam out into the room.

He was just done with the shower, and finishing drying himself and dressing, and starting to wonder both about a late dinner and where June actually was, when he heard the room door open. He smiled broadly into the steamed up mirror and thought, 'show time!'

Then he heard giggling and another voice. A man's voice. Dan's blood ran cold and he cracked the door of the bathroom very slightly, while turning the light off.

He heard June say, "Oh come on. You know I've been waiting for this all day."

The guy said something that Dan didn't catch and he heard June reply, in a slightly drunken slur that he knew so well, "Oh really? You think so? I don't." and then she giggled again – he knew just from the way she spoke she'd had at least a bottle of wine to herself at dinner.

This time Dan heard the man say, "Yeah, you want it slutty woman. What would the production crew say if they could see you now eh?"

June giggled again and said, "Probably 'Me next', but they are never going to know, are they?"

There was silence from the voices from the two of them, and the sounds of kissing, and then June said, "Oh look! Rose petals! That's so nice! And Champaign! I'm that much a forgone conclusion am I?"

The man said, "Oh don't flatter yourself. I know you were hooked the first time."

If it was possible, Dan's blood went even colder at that. This wasn't the first time then. That explained some of the behavior from June. 

"What about your husband? What would he think of this? You being slutty with me?"

There was another moan and then June said, "I don't want to talk about him. I want to concentrate on this. On that cock. It is nice to have more positions to choose from though."

There was silence again from the voices, and the rustle of clothes, and then the slow moan he knew so well from June. Dan knew exactly what was going on now. His internal voice was screaming at him "Do something, DO SOMETHING" but he just didn't know what to do. He was overwhelmed with conflicting emotions and couldn't focus or comprehend what was happening.

He stumbled back in shock and put out his arm to steady himself, knocking Junes hairbrush off the bathroom counter. It clattered to the floor.

They had obviously heard it and Dan knew he had to do something, so he turned on the bathroom light, and opened the door and stepped out.

There was June, in her small blue kilt dress, bent over the bed, skirt up around her waist. Behind her was some large guy in a very tight form fitting T-shirt, all muscles and bulges. His pants were round his ankles and his hard cock was very firmly embedded inside June's very wet pussy – he could see it glisten in the light from the bathroom.

He saw June squint up at him, not being able to see who it was because of the light from the bathroom, but as her eyes adjusted, she gasped, "DAN"

Dan's fight or flight impulse kicked in and as always, it was flight.

He moved out of the bathroom and towards the room door. Luckily he hadn't unpacked his bag apart from getting out the rose petals and the Champaign, and it was ready for him to grab on his way to the door.

The big guy pulled his cock out of June and put up a hand to stop Dan's motion, saying, "Woah there big guy, you don't need to go off half cocked."

Dan just ignored him, sniffling hard to himself. For once his weight worked to his advantage, since he just walked into the outstretched hand and then through it, getting to the door and opening it. The large man fell back as his arm was pushed, and couldn't regain his balance with his pants round his ankles. He fell over, striking his head on the wall. June screamed "Greg! Dan, don't go, please..." and then the door shut on her and Dan ran to the elevator.

He was lucky. There was a cab at the door – probably the one that had brought June and her lover back he supposed – and he bundled into it as fast as he could. He gave the driver a fifty and said, "There's another one if you can get me to the airport as fast as you can." The driver nodded and as they took off, Dan looked back at the hotel.

June was just running out of the front door, screaming his name. The big dude was right behind her, and he had to grab her to stop her running into the street after his cab.

They turned a corner and June and the dude were lost to his view. And that's when the whole situation really hit Dan. June was lost – his marriage was done and she'd made it clear that his size was an issue. Obviously she'd gone after this muscly dude because he was the other end of the spectrum from Dan. That's what she'd wanted, and she'd just been throwing mercy fucks at Dan. 

Before anything else, Dan turned his phone off. He knew she'd call and he couldn't take talking to June right now.

The tears came and the cab driver even pulled over and asked Dan if he was ok. Dan explained the situation, and the man just sat there, nodded gravely and then gave Dan back his fifty and said, "Tonight my friend, the ride is free."

Dan was lucky. He got the airport thirty minutes before the last southwest flight back to LA took off. He was on it, and he spent the entire four hours in a shell-shocked state, wondering what to do next.

He got home at 2am LA time, and looked around the apartment in dazed fashion. He had an inkling that June would be back soon and he needed to get out. He was already packed for one bag, so he just grabbed his laptop, some more clothes, a few books and left. He drove over to Donnie's – who was still up, watching Grandma's boy on his DVD and big screen -, explained what had happened, dissolved into tears and Donnie led him upstairs to the master bedroom and just said, "It's yours dude, as long as you need."

Dan had finally fallen asleep at 4am into a deep bottomless black void.

Three days later, after spending the time just sitting in Donnie's basement either drunk or stoned, Dan turned his phone back on. Instantly there were over thirty messages on it. There were emails, texts, voice mails, everything.

They started out frantic, then calmed down, then as days went past, got more frantic again. June was beside herself, back in LA and desperately looking for him. Dan listened to some of the messages, and then deleted the rest. He didn't even look at the emails before deleting them, the same with the text's – he just deleted the entire stream without looking at it.

June would have no idea where he was or who he was with. She'd never really shown any interest in his circle of friends – the way their lives worked out, they had 'their' friends and then he had 'his' friends. 'His' friends never came to their house, only 'their' friends did. June had no idea who he played Dungeons and Dragons with, or who came to the comic book shop and had never expressed any interest in finding out.

Dan was now numb. He knew June and he were done, and he finally had to face up to what he knew that first date with June. She was too hot for him, he wasn't successful or ripped like that other guy and that's what she was meant to be with. It was over and he needed to find some way out. Some of the time he was angry, some of the time resigned, some of the time he blamed himself – he was a fat fuck for gods sake and she was a goddess! But through it all he was just hurt and depressed.

He knew what the anal sex was all about now. It was her way of giving him something, a pity fuck, because she was doing it with this new guy.

Dan just couldn't see his future. He couldn't see next week any more. He had no idea what he did all day, couldn't remember what he had for breakfast in fact. He was part zombie and part shell shocked returning marine. He went through the mechanics of living without being very present for any of it.

Even Donnie started to get worried – June had called the comic book shop and even shown up. Donnie had fobbed off the phone calls, but when he saw her parking outside – there was no mistaking who she was; she was one of a kind and he had no problem recognizing her from everything Dan had said -, he'd put one of the other stoner kids in charge and taken off out the back door for an hour to avoid talking to her. He knew if he talked to her in person, she'd see right through him; a woman like that would see everything.

Eventually Donnie had pushed Dan out into the world, if only to get some sunlight and vitamin D in him.

And that's when Dan had encountered the black sedan and been accosted by the two large gentlemen.

The car pulled into the front of large building, with a gym set in the bottom of it. It was one of those new general gyms, but with specific rooms in it – there was a boxing room, complete with a ring, a martial arts dojo, an inside pool, the whole shebang. There were several smaller gym rooms marked private – Dan looked in as they went past and could see through the windows in the door that there was some one on one instruction going on within. It was evidently up market and the class of people in the gym, as Dan was lead through, were the kind of people who wear makeup to go work out. They were all beautiful people, or as Dan and his friends thought of them, the 'plastic people'.

Dan was led through the gym to the other end, where they went through a door and up some stairs, into an office environment – there were cubes everywhere and offices with glass doors along the edges. Dan was steered to the last office in the corner, the only one with a real wood door. The men knocked, then opened the door and pushed Dan in.

It was a large office, with wall to ceiling windows. There was a desk in the middle of the back wall, with a large Aerilon chair behind it and two easy chairs in front of it, a couch along one wall, a built in wet bar and a door that led to a private bathroom. Dan knew it was a bathroom because the door opened and a large man, very well defined and with a carefully sculpted body walked out, drying his hands. The man looked familiar to Dan, although he couldn't place him initially. The man had a small scar on his forehead, covered by a small bandaid.

The man stopped when he saw Dan, then smiled and gestured to Dan to sit down.

It was at that moment that Dan realized who this man was. This was the man who had his cock firmly embedded in his wife's wet cunt that terrible day. The rage and anger in Dan surfaced immediately and he started forward, not even thinking about what he'd do if he got within striking range of this man. As he did so, he was grabbed and held by the two large guys, who forced him into one of the easy chairs in front of the desk.

The big man, Greg was it? That was the name June had called out that night – finished wiping his hands and threw the wet napkin into the trash and sat down heavily in the chair behind the desk.

He looked at Dan for a moment, and Dan did his best to stare defiantly back. Eventually the man spoke.

"Dan. I can call you Dan, can't I? We have, after all, shared some thing rather precious. I feel like we are brothers of a type."

His voice was deep and rich and had that particular rasp of steroid use.

Dan stiffened up and his body tried to get up, pushed down again by the men standing next to him.

"What do you want, you fucking cocksucker?" hissed Dan through clenched teeth. "Haven't you taken enough, you cunt?"

Dan didn't even know where this was coming from. He was non confrontational through and through and yet here he was, throwing every nasty word he knew at this man, ready to go face to face with him even though he knew he'd get his ass kicked. He just didn't care. He was angry, with a rage that even he didn't know was there, and he just wanted to do something. Finally, he marveled, he was ready to do something and almost certainly it would mean a large ass kicking on his end.

The man regarded him a moment longer and eventually looked away. That disconcerted Dan, although he still had no idea why he was here. Did this guy need to lord it over him?

"Yeah, I deserved that. Look Dan, I'm sorry ok? I really am. I.... look, there's some stuff I need to explain. I know you haven't been near June since that night, and honestly, I don't much blame you. But that means she hasn't been able to explain anything or answer questions. I need to explain some stuff and... look, some of what I'm going to say is going to be humiliating to you and I need you to understand that when I say these things, it is not my intention to humiliate you or make you feel worthless ok? There are just some...realities to be faced here. I think they are realities you've already started to face up to, but they need to be acknowledged."

He waited to see Dan's reaction, but Dan just sat there. He had nothing to say. There was nothing he wanted to hear from this asshole.

The man plowed on. "OK, so to start with, my name is Greg Hamilton. I'm a personal trainer. You might say I am the personal trainer, since I work with many stars. I'm hired to get celebrities into shape for movies. I have contracts with most of the major studios and production companies – well, I did. One of them just ended courtesy of you, and I'm just hoping to god that there's no more fall out than that."

He stopped and then said, "I met June at Sly Stallones production offices and when I met her, well, I'm sure you knew what was going through my mind. She was there to interview, and I was there to talk about training that asshole Justin. Oh yes, he really is an asshole."

"Now, I know this next thing is going to sound strange and contradictory, but I actually have a code I try and follow. I do fuck other people's wives. I admit it. They come in here, wanting to look beautiful and it only takes a few lessons, a few touches in the right place, the right amount of flattery and when you look like this, " – he gestured at his own body – "well, lets just say, I have a lot of success."

"But, I only go after the trophy wives. I go after situations where I am not a threat. Where the husband already doesn't care or is absolutely never going to find out. All of the women know it is a short-term thing. A few of the husbands have even come in here to thank me for revitalizing their marriages. Yeah, it's a bit sick given how I've done it, but in the end, they are happy, their wives feel sexier and everyone wins. What the heart doesn't see, the heart doesn't worry about. If you hadn't walked in on us, you'd never have known and you'd still be happily married and getting Junes ass regularly. Yeah, I know about that. It was my suggestion in fact."

Dan felt sick. His wife had offered him her ass simply because he other lover had suggested it. She'd not done it because she wanted to, but because someone else had told her to. In way, Dan really hoped he was sick – he had a strong stomach and he was pretty sure he could hit this Greg asshole from where he was sitting.

"Look, I know. You are sitting there feeling aggrieved because she did it because I suggested it. But who cares? She did it. For you. Think about that."

Dan said nothing again. His jaw was clenched.

"She loves you, you know. She really does. I don't know how you can doubt it."

Dan snorted. "I would have thought the evidence of that night, and the fact that I am here would contradict that."

Greg eyeballed Dan a bit longer and said, "You really are an asshole, aren't you?"

"Takes one to know one," retorted Dan. Greg looked away.

"I don't get it Dan. You have talent. I've read your stuff you know. Why are you sitting around like a slob when you could be out there working? Your stuff isn't half bad. Certainly as good as those morons earning 80k a script."

"Not that I think I have to explain myself to you, but it's not that easy. There's no agent interested in taking me on, and believe me, I've tried. I know my shit is good. Don't you think that makes it even fucking harder? Knowing that I can do what those other morons do? And not ONE fucking agent will give me a chance? And knowing she's shared my stuff with you, that makes me feel so much better." Dan's voice dripped sarcasm. Part of him internally marveled at how he was holding his own here. He was up front, saying what he thought he just didn't care what came next.

Greg was silent for a moment, considering his reply, then he said, "Yes, ok. I get it. I don't think you really tried hard enough. A real man doesn't give up and all you've done is climb in your shell."

Dan sat there and stared at him.

"She does love you, you know. Do you know why I read your stuff? Do you even know how that job with Sylvester Stallone came about? She was there hawking your stuff. That's why she was there in the first place. That's how we even got talking. She was showing me some of your scripts and treatments. She was trying to get Stallone interested in them. She loves you dude. I know, I know, you've got some stupid pride thing going on about your wife helping you. It's a good thing she knows what part of you to ignore, frankly. It's all about you with her."

"Yeah? Perhaps then you can explain to me, if it's all about me, why she was bent over her bed with your dick in her cunt? Explain how that's all about me? How I benefit from that? I'm so glad she felt that vows of fidelity to me were a good thing to ignore."

Greg was exasperated, partly because he knew that Dan was right. "Oh fuck dude. I'm just some strange. I'm exciting because I'm new. I'm cute; I've got a line of patter and a terrific body. I'm no threat to your marriage. Hell, she's already given up her ass to you, what do you care? She knows it was very temporary and would have been over pretty fast. Hell, she even laid down those ground rules when it started."

Dan had difficulty getting his words out – the asshole in front of him truly just didn't understand.

"Look dickweed. I don't expect you to understand, since I doubt you've ever had anyone trust you in their life. Our life, our marriage, was based on trust. Faith, love and trust. And that trust is now totally out of the window. I don't give a shit about your rationalizations about what the eye doesn't see the heart doesn't worry about. It's FUCKING DEMEANING for her to give me her ass because you suggest it. She should have done it because I wanted her too. Or better yet, because she did. The fact that it comes from you makes the act and the gift completely invalid. In fact, it makes me want to puke that I even did it. You are such a fucking douche with your little rationalizations that make it ok for you to fuck other peoples wives' and I'm not about to buy into any of it. You stuck yourself inside my marriage because you could and pretty much made it disintegrate and I don't give a flying fuck what you have to do to make yourself feel like it's ok or there was no damage done. You may look good, but frankly, you are about the worst kind of human being there is."

There was more silence. Then Greg said, "Look, be that as it may, you might be interested to know the aftermath of your exit. She quit the job instantly – didn't even go in in person to do it, did it all over the phone. The production company first threatened to sue her, and she told them to go ahead. Then they tried another track – what would it take for her to stay? What had happened for her to leave – how could they fix it? And then it came out, how much of a dumb ass she'd been, my involvement. Well, I was fired instantly – can't really argue that one I'm afraid. They let her go with no come back once they understood that her marriage was being destroyed. She flew back to LA and has been sitting at home waiting for you ever since. She's been desperately trying to find you – she even asked me to help, although that really burned her. She hates the sight of me right now, and I don't really blame her. Her coming to me for help cost her even more of her self respect and she'd got precious little of that right now. I found you once I looked into where you worked and, now you are here."




MetaMorph Ch. 02



"Yeah, why AM I here? You wanna gloat? Or go on and on about how it doesn't matter? What the fuck? You know damn well I'm not going to sit here and go 'oh, that's ok Greg. It's all water under the bridge.'?"

Greg took a deep breath. "Look Dan, I know it's hard to understand. I honestly do have a code – I don't get involved with married women where I will fuck up a marriage, more than it's already fucked up. Hell, I have one old producer up in the hills who pays me to fuck his trophy wife. His logic is that if I'm fucking her and keeping her happy and he knows about it, she isn't out fucking anyone else. Whatever. The point I am making is that I thought she was married to someone as hot as she was. I mean, look at her. I thought her marriage was already on the rocks – if someone as hot as her was married to her and not doing the job, then fine, it would be ok for me to. She wouldn't talk about you much; I figured it was because she was on the outs with you. And then you were there in the hotel and I saw you and she disintegrated afterwards and I realized I'd really fucked up. I mean, really."

There was more silence.

"Do you understand Dan? I am really trying to apologize here. I honestly didn't mean to get in the middle of your marriage. I figured it would all be in New Orleans, over before we got back and everyone gets on with their lives. Again, normally, I could give a crap about the husbands or home situation, but you...what I saw in your eyes. I..." Greg trailed off.

Then he started again. "Look Dan. You are a slob. I'm sorry, you are. You don't the confidence of your own abilities, which is why you've gotten nowhere on the job market. You look a mess, you dress horribly and I'm pretty sure you aren't a great lover, or June would never have gone for me."

Dan sat stone faced and then snapped, "Anything else? Is my hair the wrong color? No, wait, I wear the wrong shoes?"

"Dan, I'm a symptom, ok? I'm not a cause. Well, I'm partly a cause, but the fact is that she went for it because she wanted to. You can't deny that – it takes two to tango. Sure, I gave her temptation, but she went for it. Whatever your issues are – and I'm pretty sure you know what they are; there's about three hundred pounds of them – they are between the two of you. Am I a dick for going for it? Yeah, I don't think that's in question. Would she have done it if it were someone else? Well, you answer that."

There was more silence. Dan didn't trust himself to speak, mainly because everything Greg had just said had already occurred to him, he was right, and Dan wasn't going to give Greg the satisfaction of knowing that.

Greg took another deep breath and said, "Look. Right now you are sitting there hating the shit out of me, and I don't blame you one bit. You'd love to get right up and push my face it – it's plain on your face. But you know you don't have a chance. I could send both of these guys away and you know I could still put you on your ass with one hand. I've no doubt you have fantasies about ruining my business or whatever, fantasies we both know will never happen. But here's what I am offering you. A chance to get your revenge. Right now you are a three hundred pound slob who probably gets winded climbing stairs. I'm offering you this. Free of charge."

Greg gestured at himself and Dan didn't understand. "What, you want me to fuck you? You are one fucked up dude," he laughed.

Greg sighed. He just wished Dan had understood the value of what he was offering. He normally charged hundreds of thousands of dollars for this service.

"No Dan, I'm not offering you my body. I'm offering you the same body. Give me four months and I will transform you. It'll be hard, but I can do it. This is my business, after all. I'll train you to box and when we are done, you can have three rounds in the ring with me, no one else there. If you are up to it, you can take your revenge on me."

Dan sat there, stunned. He didn't know what to think.

"Dan, I took something from you that didn't belong to me. I have my code, like I said. I don't get involved in volatile situations and this is about as volatile as it comes and I feel in part responsible. I need to do something to help, and I think this is it. I can give you back your confidence and I can sculpt your body if you want. I will even use your hate of me to do it. And I'll give you your chance to fight me, when the scales are even once we are done. Don't tell me you don't want that?"

Dan had to admit that was a tempting offer. But there were questions, so many questions.

"How would this work?" he asked.

Greg smiled. He knew he had him. Maybe he could work off some of this damn inconvenient guilt after all.

"OK, so here's what I'm proposing. Firstly, you go home. Confront June. Have it out – you haven't yet and you need to. Tell her that you are going away for four months. Don't ask her, tell her. Tell her that if she cares about you and wants to make amends, you need to rebuild some trust. Tell her that you'll have friends watching, and if she messes around, you'll know. I honestly don't think she will, she is so fucking down on you man – but tell her straight. Honestly, I think you need the time apart for you to get your head together anyway, although who are we kidding? Once you do, you know you'll take her back. You know you'll never have anyone as hot as her again. Unless I miss my guess you are as hot for her as she is for you. So yeah, while we are doing this, you stay away from her and get your head clear. And those goes for your idiot friends too. You don't need to be getting stoned while you do this.

I don't want her to see you until this is done. I don't want her to know – you need your mind in the game if we are going to do this. There are two apartments next to this office – one is mine and one is empty, that I use for clients. You are going to move into that apartment. I want you close because I'm going to ride you like a cheap whore."

There was silence to that for a moment, when Greg realized what he'd just said. Wisely, he just shut up till Dan spoke.

"Yeah, so I go confront June, piss her off, walk out then she's alone for four months. That's your plan is it? And thus she's completely alone and ready for you sweep in there? Don't make me laugh you idiot. I wasn't born yesterday." 

Dan was unimpressed. He was actually getting interested until it became obvious this was just a ploy for Greg to get back in Junes panties.

But Greg was ready for this. "Yeah, I thought you'd say that. So here's what I propose. I have three PI groups that owe me a favor. You can use one of them to keep an eye on her. Or, if you don't trust them because they owe me, you can hire your own group and I'll pay. Or you can get your friends to watch her. Whatever. Whatever you need to know she's not running around on you, with me or anyone else. Ok?"

Dan shifted in his seat. The easy chairs were leather and he was starting to stick to the chair. It was very uncomfortable.

"What about work? You said she wasn't to see me? She knows where I work."

Once more, Greg was ready. He'd actually spent some time working this through once he realized what he'd been a part of, and it was gratifying to see he could actually work a problem like this – most of the time it was just a question of keeping hot women from eating the wrong stuff and feeding them lines so they did the extra leg kicks. It wasn't exactly rocket science. Working with this slob would be a real challenge. If he could do this, it was a real accomplishment.

"Ok, so the owner of that dinky comic book shop? Mr Wong? He has a teenage daughter."

Dan nodded. He knew Abigail. She was sweet but she also had a sweet tooth and she was also over weight.

"Well, here's the deal. I train her for her prom, so she fits into a size eight, and he keeps paying you for the next four months. I mean, really, it's not a lot of money – comics don't pay much do they? And frankly, I'm pretty sure I could wow and scare that girl into just stopping eating in about an hour. No real challenge there. The job is there for you again when we are done, assuming you still want it."

Dan sat back and squelched on the seat. "So, let me get this straight. You are going to give me somewhere to live for four months. You are going to train me, and teach me to box, and then at the end of this, give me time in a ring with you, and then just send me home?"

Greg sat back and his chair leaned. He nodded to the two guys next to Dan and looked at the door. They left quietly.

"Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?" said Dan.

Greg smiled. "We are talking now. You aren't going to attack me. You want to, I can see it in your eyes. But you are both aware of the fact that I could knock you flat on your ass, and also you are intrigued by my proposition. So yeah, that's what I am proposing. And while I'm at it, a bit of, well, you can either look at it as revenge on June, tit for tat or an education. I fucked June four times, including that night. Yeah, I know. Sorry. So here's what I am proposing. I have a few...friends, shall we say, who specialize in companionship for an evening. They are extremely high class and very very good at what they do. I propose that you have four, er...encounters, with them, and let them teach you what you need to know. It's your call."

Dan was taken aback by that. He didn't see himself as someone who would go to a hooker, but on the other hand, what was good for the goose was good for the gander...

"Look, you don't have to decide now. You're gonna be way too sore for the first couple of this to do anything at night except sit in the hot tub and sleep anyway. But once you've got your equilibrium back, well, we'll talk then. See where your head is at.

One last thing. I know you wouldn't want June to help you, but I should point out that I have three television execs who work out here, several movie producers and lots of agents and agent wannabes, looking for the hot new guy to rep. You'll be here, sitting with them, working out and learning stuff. I can't guarantee anything, but it's a way to start a conversation."

There was more silence as Dan tried to digest all this, with a stunned expression on his face. The whole situation and proposal made his head swim. He was completely confused – on the one hand, he desperately wanted to hurt this man in front of him, as he had been hurt, but on the other, the offer of a body like that and the opportunities that were being mentioned...

Greg rubbed his forehead and Dan noticed, and Greg noticed Dan noticing. He smiled coldly and said, "You know, I've been boxing and training boxers for almost twelve years now. And in that time, not once have I ever been hit to the point where I'm bleeding, at least not in the face. But five minutes in a hotel room with you, and I get a gash that needs four stitches. The only person to sully the perfect face, and it's a three hundred pound man who just wants to get out of the room. Be proud Dan, no one else has ever done that."

There was another beat of silence, while Dan quietly smirked to himself, because Greg spoke again.

"Look Dan, I know this is a lot to take in. It's Thursday today. If you want to do this, we start Monday. You have the weekend to think about it. If you want to do it, show up here on Monday at nine and we'll begin, ok? If not, just don't show up and I swear I'll never see June again. In fact, I'll swear that either way right now."

There was more silence. Dan just didn't know what to say. So many conflicting emotions.

"Dan, say something dude."

More silence.

"OK, well, it can't be said I didn't try. The guys are outside the door. They'll take you anywhere you want to go."

Dan stood up slowly, unsticking himself from the chair. He turned and walked towards the office door, only turning at the last minute and saying, "Can you really do it? Make me like you? In four months?"

Greg smiled. "This is my business Dan. Now don't for a second imagine it will be easy. You'll be doing what I tell you to do and eating what I tell you to and drinking what I tell you to and hating it, because it'll be painful and you'll imagine I am just torturing you for the sake of it. But this has to happen. Marines say that pain is weakness leaving the body. It's not. It's fat leaving the body. You'll be in pain and driven further than anything ever in your life. But if you let me, I'll make you over. I can get you to drop over a hundred pounds and put on twenty pounds of muscle. I can teach you to box and knock someone's head off with one punch. But you have to trust me – no, in fact, you don't have to trust me. You have to hate me, because that'll give you the strength to go on. I'm going to say things to you and be really nasty to you and you'll need your hate to make you keep going. But it'll be worth it. On that you can depend. The confidence you'll build will spill over into everything, trust me on that."

Dan just gave a slight nod and opened the office door. Greg could just hear him say, "Ok boys, off we go. You are MY bitches now."

Greg smiled at that. At least Dan was showing some spunk – he'd been quite worried there for a while, that Dan was simply too much of a wuss to take his offer. But Dan had surprised him. There was a Real Man inside of that fat carcass, and it was now his job to find it and bring it out into the sun.

He also smiled at what Dan had said to his two guys. They were both sparring partners in the ring, and they'd remember that remark when Dan got into the ring with them...

Dan was dropped back at Donnie's, and since Donnie was out, he went for a walk. He walked past blockbuster and went inside on whim, looking at the DVD covers on the walls. All the heroes had square jaws and were built like brick shithouses. That was no surprise to Dan, but for the first time he looked at them picturing himself in those poses, wearing those clothes, looking like they did.

On impulse, he rented Rocky and took it home to watch on Donnie's huge sixty inch TV. He made popcorn, watching the movie and watching Stallone's performance and physique. When Donnie got hoe, he came in, looked at the movie and then just sat down next to Dan, helping himself to some popcorn, not saying a word.

When the movie was done, Donnie fist bumped Dan and said, "Awesome choice man. Stallone is The Man."

He looked at Dan and said, "So what did you do today?"

And with that, everything came tumbling out from Dan. He explained being picked up, the meeting with Greg, what he'd told him about June, his offer, the whole thing.

Donnie sat there, mesmerized by the story, not saying a word. When Dan was done, he lit up another joint he had behind his ear and took a huge drag, let it out and then said, "So you gonna do it?"

He passed the joint to Dan who took a drag and said, "I dunno. The whole thing disturbs me. I mean, if the offer it legit, well, it's pretty amazing. It would be hard but the results man, the results. But I kinda feel like the price of this offer is my wife's ass, you know? I get this as consolation prize, because my wife already paid for it with her pussy. I can't get behind that, if you know what I mean. What kind of douche does that? I'm benefiting because she gave it up? That's some fucked up shit right there."

Donnie took back the joint and took another hit, and then sat there, making smoke rings with the exhale. Eventually he was done and he sat back and considered for a moment and then said, "I dunno dude. I guess that's one way of looking at it. But another way is this – sure, she paid for this, but that wasn't the intention. She was just getting her jollies and YOU are the one paying the price for it. Sure, this is an opportunity, but something tells me that this is gonna be no picnic. Stuff like this never is. On the other hand, the opportunity to stuff it to this asshole and be trained to do it, well... that doesn't happen in the movies man. That's some grade A karma right there. Dude, you didn't ask for this. But this is what it is. Don't make a decision based on should be and might be and perhaps. Make it based on what you want to do."

Dan nodded. Donnie actually made sense. If he'd lay off the ganga more, he might not be living in the basement forever.

"Yeah, perhaps you are right. But if I do do this, I have to go home first. I do not want to do that. Part of me is still so angry, I don't know what I'd say. I can't hurt her – I really love her, but jesus, I mean, what do you say to that? Do I call her names? Do I slap her? Do I just ignore her? I dunno."

Donnie smiled and said, "I think it'll come dude. Whatever you do, if you go in with not agenda, it's an honest response, and right now I think that's about the best you can hope for. At least it will be 100% honest and authentic."

There he went again. More sound advice. Dan was starting to re-evaluate Donnie. He was more than just a stoner. He was a man deliberately drowning himself in grass so he wouldn't have to listen to his own advice. When Dan got done with his own issues, he'd need to look into how to help Donnie, because he obviously needed some.

But first, more Rocky. Another joint, and definitely some more popcorn.



MetaMorph Ch. 03



The next day, Dan felt he had to go home. It was time. He was still bewildered by June's actions -- he knew in his brain what must have caused them; he only had to look in the mirror for that -- but he didn't understand them on an emotional level. He thought he knew what the catalyst was, but to hear why -- what she was thinking at the time when she decided to do this -- he needed to hear that. Even though he knew he wasn't going to like what he heard.

So there he was, standing on his own porch at his own front door and wondering what he should do next. Should he ring the bell, just open the door with his key? What?

In the end, the choice was taken for him -- the door had a smoked glass plate that revealed when someone was outside, and while he'd been standing there dithering, June must have seen the figure in the door. Give the size, it could only have been him and she drew back the door and gasped on seeing him.

He almost gasped on seeing her. She was a mess. No makeup, her hair not combed or cared for. It looked like she hadn't showered in two days and she didn't smell so good either. There were tell tale bags under her eyes and the eyes themselves were puffy, probably from crying.

She yelled, "DAN!" on opening the door and threw herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck, sobbing into his chest.

He knew they were making a spectacle of themselves on the porch, so he gently pushed her off and walked into their apartment home. It was one of those apartments that was built in the 1940's, for returning GI's. It had no parking garage but did have it's own entrance and distinct address and some specific just off street parking. It was small, but they'd loved it because of all the light it let in -- there were large windows everywhere.

On closing the door, June tried to grab Dan's head and kiss him and he stepped sideways. God, he wanted to kiss her, but at the same time, he wanted to strangle her. He was hurt and angry and loved her with all he had, all at the same time.

She came towards him again and he held up his hand to stop her. "Look June. This is hard for me. The last time I saw you, well, we both know how that ended. All I have right now is that picture of you in my head. Right now, I am not going to kiss you nor am I going to allow you to kiss me. There is too much confusion in my head right now for that."

"Oh honey," said June, "I just don't know how to say I'm sorry enough. I must have been insane. I just can't even understand myself. I jeopardized everything and I can't tell you how sorry I am. I just... I can't..." and she started sobbing again. "I didn't know where you were. I didn't know if you'd come back. I need you Dan. I can't live without you. Please, tell me you are staying. Please, tell me we can work this out. Please."

June was a mess, Dan could see that. Trouble was, he was too.

"OK June. Sit down. Take a breath. We need to talk, obviously."

He guided June into the living room and sat her down in the couch. He, very deliberately, took the easy chair opposite.

June sat in her chair, her back straight, her hands in her lap, twisting them and not able to meet his eyes.

"So," said Dan, since it was apparent she wasn't going to start. "I think I need to start. There are things I need to say and questions I need to ask. There are things I just have to know. I need to know if you are going to be honest with me." He said, gently.

June nodded, started to say something, then stopped, then blurted out, "I'll tell you anything you want to know Dan. I just...don't want to hurt you more than you are already are. I just..."

Dan was surprised at himself being so calm when he was afraid, sad and raging inside, all at the same time. He was plumbing depths of control he didn't know he had. "I know June, I know. But...we can't ignore this. This...this can and probably will destroy us. Everything has to be out there."

"Dan...I...it wasn't love. It was just sex. Nothing else. I love YOU, no one else."

Dan grimaced and said, "Ten points."

June was taken aback. "What?" she asked.

"I had a bet with myself. If you said, 'its just sex', first, then it's twenty points. If you told me you loved me first, then it's ten points. Look, can we just cut to the chase? The bottom line here is that you'll tell me 'it was just sex', 'it didn't mean anything', 'you still love me', 'we can get past this' and all the rest of the crap that women tell their men when they've cheated on them. Yes June, you are a cheater, ok? That's what you are. Lets not honey coat it. It's not a 'little mistake', you took our marriage, my trust and faith in you and you flushed it down the crapper."

Dan was starting to get heated -- although no one could really blame him -- and he forced himself to calm down. June just sat there and stared at her hands during his rant.

Then, very quietly, she said, "But it's still all true."

"Which bit, June? That you still love me? That it was all just a mistake? That it didn't mean anything. Well, let me answer a few of those for you. It might not have meant a thing to you, but I can fucking assure you, it meant something to me. A big fucking something. It was all a mistake? Yes, I'd agree with that. But it was a mistake you made, not me. I didn't do anything here, except encourage you to go after your dreams in this business. You still love me? I dunno -- see June, here's the kicker. I don't believe you any more. A relationship is based on love, trust and faith in each other. I may still love you, and you may still love me, but you've pretty much destroyed the other two. Anything you now say is seen through the filter of you betraying me and our marriage. You lied, you betrayed me -- of course I don't fucking trust anything you say. Why the hell should I?"

Again, Dan was heated. It took more effort to calm down now.

"Oh honey, you have to believe me. I am so, so sorry about this. I never meant to hurt you. It was never about you." June said it with earnestness but Dan wasn't about to let her off that easy.

"See, there you go, lying to me again."

"I am not," said June, hotly.

"Oh really," said Dan, dryly. "OK. Lets try this question. The only one that I really care about. Why, June? Why? Was our life so bad that you couldn't wait to get some strange? Was his body that nice? Ooohhh... there it is."

June's expression had flickered for an instant when Dan said that. He'd seen it and she knew he had.

"So that's it then. You just...don't want my body. I get it. I really do. All my friends said that you were too hot for me. That you were meant to be with beautiful people but I dared hope that you were different. I really thought you were. I had thought you were for years. But I guess they were right. Weren't they June? Along came Mr. Perfect Body and off you went."

June started crying again. But Dan needed to push it. He was pretty sure there was a lot of unspoken feeling going on here -- that June had felt this way for a while and just wouldn't say it for fear of hurting him. He needed to prod the wound, because he wouldn't feel any resolution until he understood her motivation.

"So that was it. He looks better than I do. Fucking great. Is his cock big too June? Is he bigger than I am? Did he make you cum harder?"

"Dan... please...don't. We've had so many years of happiness. You have to believe I love you, that is was all a mistake. Please. Doesn't all those years count?"

"It sure didn't seem to stop you June, did it? Sure didn't count to you when his cock was sinking into you, did it? How long have you felt this way June? How long? How long have you been hiding the disgust when I touched you?"

"NEVER. I LOVE you. I just wanted something else! I wanted more positions, someone who has seen their dick!" June screamed, frustration boiling out of her.

And then there was silence as both digested what had been said. Everything Dan had feared was out in the open now. June sat there, mouth open, a hand in front of it.

"No Dan, no, that's not what I meant. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it."

"Sure you did June. We both know that -- all evidence has been proving that," said Dan. "But you know what? I expected this. I've been waiting our entire marriage for the other shoe to drop, and now it has. I have only myself to blame for wanting to believe it wouldn't. You are perfect and so, I'm sure, is he. I don't doubt it would have carried on once you got home. Christ...how you must disrespect me."

"No," said June, forcefully. "It was only in New Orleans. It was a temporary thing. I knew that and so did he. We were both very careful, none of the crew knew what was going on. You were never going to find out. This wasn't about you, or any disrespect I had for you, it was about me. I...just fell for the flattery. I don't know. I just was there, he was there, there was opportunity, I wasn't thinking about you. You are just...always there, in the background of my life. Always going to be there. I could do it, it was a bit of stupid fun with a bit of strange that had no chance of getting back to you -- it was like I was living a completely separate life and in that life, it was ok and...well, we know how that ended up."

"Bullshit. You've had guys hitting on your for years June. Why now? Why this particular guy? Again June, do explain to me how I can trust anything you say. For all I know, this could have been going on for years. How do I know it's the first time either? And I dunno June, from what I saw, I think you were very much enjoying it. I highly doubt you would have stopped."

"I don't know how many times to tell you -- it was never going to last. We both knew that. It was just...t the perfect storm of situation, desire and me being overworked, tired, drunk and all the rest. He asked about you, but I was deliberately vague. You were a writer, that was all I told him."

"Whatever June. You can tell me whatever you want and I will never know, will I? You can lie through your teeth, as you have been, and I would never know," retorted Dan. "For all I know, you could have both been having a good laugh about me. I'm sure you were."

"Dan...I would never laugh at you. Never. Please, if you don't believe anything else, believe that. I love you."

"You have a funny way of showing it June."

She looked down and spoke quietly, "I know. I know... I'm so sorry. I just didn't think about it affecting us at all. It wasn't anything to do with us as a marriage. It was just me sowing some wild oats in a totally safe and private and isolated environment. I can't believe how I've hurt you."

"Oh June. You have NO idea how hurt I am. My ego is now just shit. You've destroyed the last of my remaining confidence and frankly, I doubt I'll ever be able to get it up for you again. All I can see now is that image of you and him, and...well, I know now that I'll never measure up. That you want what I'm not, physically."

June's eyes widened in alarm at that. "Don't say that. You know I'll do anything you want."

"Oh yes. Then we come to the real fucking kicker. So, that night's sex June. Where I got your ass?"

June's expression became guarded. "Yes?"

"So how did that come about exactly? What prompted you to do that? Guilt?"

"I...I don't know. It seemed like the right thing to do," she said, uncertainly.

Dan got up and walked to the bedroom.

"Where are you going?" said June, fearfully, standing up.

"I'm going to pack some things. I told you if you lied we would be done. You lied. I'm leaving."

"I...I...Look, Dan, what does it matter?"

"It fucking matters to me. The only reason you did it was because he suggested it? Isn't that true?"

June collapsed back down on the couch.

"What difference does it make?" she said, not actually answering the question.

"The difference, dear," said Dan, dripping venom, "is that it's something you know I've wanted, you've never given me and the only time I have had it, is when some other guy you are fucking tells you to. Not because you wanted to, or because I'd asked, because your fucking lover told you to. That gift is now not worth any fucking thing. Nothing. Worse than nothing. It's a fucking insult to me, our marriage and our relationship. Tell me June, did he fuck you in the ass first?"

She looked at Dan again, finally, and said, "No, I told him I didn't do that. And if I did, it would be with you."

"And so you came home and did do it with me. What do you think would have happened the next time you saw him Junie, dear? Think he would have asked you if you had? Did he ask? I wonder what was next on the sexual menu for that night I was there. And you know what June? You aren't a fucking idiot. If I can work this out, you know fucking well you could too. You knew. You gave me your ass to salve whatever conscience you had about giving it to him later. And then you just lied to me about it now. That's it. Case closed."

June was silent. There was nothing to be said to that. They both knew it to be true.

Dan went into the bedroom and came out a few minutes later, having hastily packed a few things into a bag. He went around the living room grabbing a few more items -- his Bluetooth speakers, some games, the external hard drive with all his music on it.

Eventually June said, with resignation, "What are you going to do? Are we done? Is it a divorce?"

Dan stopped and looked at her. He put down his bag and said, while looking intently at her, "June, explain something to me. You say you love me. You say we can get past this. I ask you this. How? How are you going to rebuild the trust you've destroyed? How are you going to get that image of you and the perfect body out of my mind? How am I supposed to deal with the hurt and betrayal you've pushed onto my shoulders? How do I deal with that and still look at you and love you? Can you explain to me how that is going to happen?"

June's shoulders sagged. "I don't know," she said in a small voice, "I really don't. I've spent the last few days trying to figure out why I did it, and what I can do to make it up to you."

"June, this isn't you missing a birthday dinner. You don't just 'make it up' to someone when you completely destroy their life, betray their trust and give them a gift that isn't even meant for them."

"I know. You are right. I just don't know what to do Dan. I don't. Tell me what to do. I will do anything. I just can't lose you. You are my rock. Without you I am just adrift."

Dan snorted, "Don't talk such utter crap June. You've never needed me, as you have so ably demonstrated. You'll go back to work, find something to immerse yourself in. You've never need me. I've just been, as we've already established, a large lard ass holding you back. So whatever."

"I wish I could make you see how much I need you Dan. I know I hurt you, I know it was all me. I'm so sorry. But I'm also sorry for me too. I fucked up and now...you are leaving."

Without even knowing it, Dan had made a decision. "Look June, here's the deal. I'm going away for a while. Don't try and call me or text me or email me -- I'll just ignore it and delete any message. I won't be at work either. I'm just...going away for a while. I need to get my head together. I'll be back in a few weeks, or more likely, months. You can do whatever you want while I am gone, I'll never know. Fuck Mr. Perfect body, whatever. If you can stand there when I come back and not lie to me and tell me you've been celibate and make me believe it, maybe we stand a chance. Frankly, I doubt it. But what the fuck. What have I got to lose? I'm fat loser anyway, either way you cut it."

"No Dan, please, no. Don't ever think that. I love you. I know you don't believe that now, but I do. What I did was...wrong and hurtful and I'm sorrier than I can ever say. I never meant to hurt you. If you have to go, I can't say I honestly blame you, but I'll be here when you get back. I don't want anyone else except my husband. I married you for all the right reasons and I still believe that. I've been weak and made mistakes but no more. And I'll prove it to you, any way you want."

Dan looked at her from the door, as he hefted his bags. He thought about some parting comment -- "whatever" or just calling her a slut, but found he didn't have the stomach for either, so he just turned and left, hearing the door click shut behind him.

He loaded the bags into his car and drove about a mile before he found he didn't have the stomach for anything and had to pull over to heave up the churro he'd eaten earlier.

Monday came and right before nine o'clock, Dan trudged up to the desk at the gym, and asked for Greg. The girl behind the counter looked at him coolly and said, "He'll be down in a minute, please wait."

So Dan sat and watched the early risers on the running machines and bikes. After five minutes, Greg arrived, in a grey tracksuit, all teeth and suntan. "Dan, glad you can make it. Although you won't be, once we get going." said Greg, holding out his hand.

Dan just looked at it, and then at Greg and made no effort to take it, and said, "Look asswipe. I'm here and here for one reason only. To get fit enough to kick your ass up through your teeth. That's it. We aren't friends, we aren't buddies and there sure as hell is no fucking respect. So lets just get on with it and get it done."

Greg pulled his hand back and his smile wavered just a little bit, and then he said, "Yeah, I guess I can't really blame you on that. OK, so, lets get you situated, then we have to go out."

They went down the corridor to the end and up the stairs and down almost the whole way, to a door in the end. "This is your new home for the next few months," said Greg, as he opened the door.

The apartment was ok -- nothing great but not shabby either. A single bedroomed standard apartment, decent kitchen with range and island. A large LCD screen TV was on one wall, and Dan noticed an Xbox hooked up underneath it. Greg said, "There is Wi-Fi here too, and you can buy your own groceries and cook, although we'll be monitoring your food intake and making recommendations. I hope you like Rice. I'll see you downstairs in twenty."

He left Dan to unpack what little he'd brought, take a look around and then he walked downstairs. When he got there Greg tossed him some keys and a keycard. "The keycard opens the outside door, and the key is for the apartment. Also, you'll note there is a direct elevator in the building lobby, so you don't have to go through the gym every time. Now, we have an appointment."

Dan was guided outside into the back of the big black SUV, where Greg drove. Greg tried a couple of times to start a conversation, but Dan was not in any mood to chat with his wife's lover, and he made it plain.

Eventually, having navigated the 405 and I10 and spent at least an hour doing it, they pulled over on a street in Chinatown. Greg nodded at Dan and they got out and Greg walked up to what looked like a solitary door in the wall. He knocked and they went inside.

The interior of the building was part sweat shop and part fabric store. A small wizened man came up to Greg, bowing constantly, and guided the two of them into a small room, with four mirrors. Greg motioned for Dan to sit, which he did.

Then Greg got measured for a suit. He saw different fabric swatches, was measured and it took a couple of hours. Dan was well and truly pissed off and made no bones about it at the end of the first hour.

Greg looked at him in the mirror and said, "You pissed? Don't see us making any progress in dumping some lard?"

Dan's face flushed and Greg said, "Oh come on Dan. You gonna run home to Mommy the moment the nasty man says something you don't like? I warned you this would be hard. I'm gonna be an evil bastard -- I'm telling you that upfront. Some of the shit I'm going to say will make you want, - no, need -, to kill me. And we need that anger and that pain and that humiliation because you need it to keep going. You don't have the promise of ten million dollars for the next part in the movie to drive you to keep going. Hell, you don't even know you have June to go back to. But you need to do this, if only for your own self respect. So shut the fuck up and sit there and take your medicine. You'll get your chance to give me mine at the end of this. Now, did you decide what you wanted to do about watching June?"




MetaMorph Ch. 03



Dan took a deep breath and pulled back the comment he was about to make regarding pretty boys and their tight asses and said, "Yes. I'll use my own group, thanks. You can just pay the bills."

Dan had spent the last two days checking out groups that specialized in tailing unfaithful spouses. It was a husband and wife team that had a further team of six working for them. He'd arranged for them to follow June once every three days, randomizing which day it was. They couldn't follow her full time for four months -- he'd never have the time to go through all the details. He was pretty sure she wouldn't mess around again; he was just doing this to be sure. While he'd been bitter and hurt, he was relatively sure that almost everything June had told him about her feelings and what had happened was the truth, or at least how she saw it. If the PI's found anything, well, he'd revise that feeling.

Back in the moment Greg said, "So, do you know why we are here?"

"So you can get your pretty ass a nice tight little set of chaps, so you can show it off to all the other little boys in class?"

Greg actually laughed and said, "Dan, I know you won't believe this, but I like your style. I wish we'd met under different circumstances. I hope you can keep that sense of humor going later today. No, we are here so I can have a suit made."

"I'm sure it'll highlight your cock adequately," replied Dan.

"It's not for me, idiot. It's for you. They are just using some of my dimensions. I need you to get up here in a moment so they can get your inside seam and all the rest of that stuff that tailors seem to need."

"Me? What the fuck are you talking about?" asked Dan, puzzled.

"Incentive," replied Greg. "The idea is that the suit will be made to a mixture of my dimensions and yours. My chest, your height, my arm size, your arm length. They make the suit, deliver it and when you can fit into it nicely, then we are done. This is a two thousand dollar suit by the way. Mr. Chang does not come cheap. He makes suits for Johnny Depp by the way."

Dan suddenly took an interest, and moments later was standing in front of the mirrors and trying not to look embarrassed as Mr. Chang moved his dick around in order to understand which side he dressed to.

An hour later, they were back at the gym and Greg looked at Dan and said, "Are you ready for this? What am I saying - I don't give a crap if you are. Go upstairs, put on a track suit and come back down and meet me in the last room at the end."

Dan did as he was bid, and it began. Greg started him by making him go to a zoomba class, with girls. Dan was at the back, huffing and puffing and looking like an idiot, and he caught Greg smirking at him through the door several times. By the time the class was done, Dan was covered in sweat and ready to die, both from the exercise and from the embarrassment. He couldn't breath and needed water on tap.

Greg smiled at him with a smile that didn't reach his eyes and said, "Good. Can you swim?"

Dan nodded, too out of breath to answer with words.

"Good," said Greg, "go get your swim suit on and meet me in the pool."

Once there, Dan was made to do lengths. Greg wasn't interested in speed, he was interested in endurance. Dan did ten lengths and was allowed to rest while Greg explained that he was just starting the warm up that he'd be doing himself.

After the swim, it was time for the rowing machine. After thirty minutes on that, Dan went to the bathroom to be sick, which Greg stood outside and laughed.

After that, it was lunch. Greg took Dan to the juice bar and got him a smoothie that was green and had grass of some kind in it and it tasted foul. Greg explained that Dan's intake of food was going to change radically, and he'd better get used to it.

Back at the gym, and they were in the boxing room. Dan was measured for gloves and boots and then taught how to wrap his hands. After that, it was punching time with the heavy bag -- a touch that Dan appreciated was that Greg had pasted a blown up photo of his face on the bar. That was all the encouragement he needed. Again Dan lasted about forty-five minutes before he had to run off and throw up, for the second time.

After recovering from that, it was in the ring for some sparring. Dan was fitted with protective headgear and a cup and pushed into the ring with one of the guys he recognized from the day he was abducted. The guy basically pushed his face in for three straight rounds, Dan not hitting him once.

By the end of the day, Dan had thrown up four times, had a go on almost all the machines in the gym, done free weights, drunk almost three gallons of water and was just lying on the bed in the apartment, begging to die. His body was on fire, his arms ached, and he really wanted to hit the hot tub, but couldn't figure out how to get his body off the bed without his arms coming off.

He was aware Greg was in the room -- he wasn't thrilled about that -- and he pulled up a stool and handed Dan a bottle of water.

"Right, that was hard. I know it was because it was meant to be," he said. "But you stuck it out and you didn't give up. These first couple of weeks are the hardest. If you think today was hard, you wait till tomorrow when we do it all again, only now you are sore from today."

Dan just groaned.

"It's necessary. What's happening right now is your body is going into toxic shock. It's suddenly realizing that it's needs muscle and it's going to try and build some. It's going to cannibalize some of your fat to do it, which is what we want. In a few days, your body will start to stabilize and your metabolism will increase. Usually we'd feed that by giving you more protein, but right now we are going to do it by starving you a bit, or at least not giving you as much as your body really wants.

See Dan, there is only one real way to loose weight and keep it off. Eat less carbs than your body burns. There are two ways to do that -- one is to stop eating and eat less than your body burns naturally -- in your case, something around sixteen hundred calories a day -- OR you can exercise and burn calories faster than you take them in. A balanced weight loss program does both -- it reduces the calories and food intake coming in, and amps up the exercise to burn more as well. Now we can jog that along -- the right intake and the right set of exercises -- even the right time of day matters.

You are going to be doing a mixture of cardio exercises and strength training. The cardio is good for initially burning fat, but once you've burned all the calories in your blood stream, it burns as much muscle as it does fat. So we use the cardio are muscle warmers and between the interval training where you really strain.

What I'm going to do with you is spend alternate days in the weights room and in the boxing room, and then every fifth day you have off, or at least not putting undue strain on your body. Just some swimming and yoga -- no running though. You weigh too much to put that strain on your knees, at least initially. We will vary the warm up cardio exercise so it doesn't get boring. But you'll initially see the weight come off fast, then it'll slow up as your body starts building muscle, which weighs a lot more than fat, and then once you've got the muscle tone to build on top of, the rest of the weight loss just happens naturally, as a result of your increased metabolism and exercise. You won't have to do specific things to lose the weight as long as you aren't chugging down cheeseburgers and fries and drinking a lot of beer.

So yeah, food wise, you'll eat with me three times a week and eat your own stuff the rest of the time. I'll be in here seeing what you are eating and if I don't like it, it goes. So be aware. Ignore grains -- no breads or pizza or cereals -- they are empty calories and go straight to fat, even though the roughage is good for you. You need proteins, milk, water, salads and meats. Try cutting out breakfast altogether and just having a smoothie instead. I will make sure the right stuff is in here to do this.

Now, get your lardy ass off the bed and go sit in the hot tub for twenty minutes. Then after that, get a massage -- that's room seven. And don't try anything with Julie in there. She'd kick your ass. She's our tebow instructor as well."

With that Dan levered himself off the bed and went to find the hot tub. Greg was right, he felt a lot better -- still very sore, but not as stiff -- afterwards, and even better after the nimble but steel fingers of Julie had finished with him.

A side effect of the whole experience was that he slept like the dead, although every time he turned over, he woke himself up through the pain of his sore muscles.

Day two was, as Greg had promised, worse than day one, having to do it all again but sore. This time he scored one minor victory by hitting his sparring partner -- the other guy this time -- once! He felt quite pleased. His head still hurt from the hitting he'd gotten back though.

By day five he was ready to die. The pain had gotten worse and his reaction time in the ring was down. Greg had started to actually train him now -- he was doing punching drills and starting to learn footwork, although he had started to realize how his weight would stop him being light on his feet and deft in the ring. What he did have was power, and he leveraged that, working on accuracy.

He'd started to learn how to do some of the exercises too. He hadn't thought much about how to do a pushup, but from Greg and the other instructors, he learned that there was a lot that mattered -- how wide your hands were, how fast you did them, how low you went, the straightness of the body, when to breath in and out -- all of this mattered.

Day five was a relief. It was mostly cardio -- they started out swimming. Greg had informed him that at his height, he'd do a hundred lengths without blinking. Right now he was at twenty and that was hard. Then the rowing machine, a rest, then the skiing machine, then lunch. Then a whole three hours of nothing, then back to the cardio.

During the three hours to himself, Dan pulled out his laptop and started to write. He actually started to write a treatment of his experiences, embellishing it slightly. Two hours later, he closed the laptop and looked through the PI report. They'd watched June twice and she'd done nothing out of the ordinary, apart from paying a visit to Stallones production company for a meeting. Somehow, Dan doubted that went that well. Other than that, she'd gone to the grocery store and mostly just stayed home. Nothing suspicious there -- long may it continue, he thought.

At the end of the first week, Greg made him weigh himself. Dan had no idea what to expect, but was very pleased to find himself almost ten pounds lighter. Greg explained that this was natural and was mostly water retention bleeding off. He couldn't expect that degree of loss every week, but it was a good start.

The next week was still very painful, but by the end of the day, Dan found he could actually cook himself something to eat before dying in bed. The boxing was stepping up, and Dan was finding it hard. Greg kept getting in his face when he slowed down on the fortieth repetition of punching the bag, yelling things like "She's NEVER going to fuck you again if you are a pussy, you lard ass." And "Man, I did like fucking her. Maybe I should carry on, so she has a real man." And lastly, he said, softly, "So you got her ass. You know she was going to give it to me. Maybe I should go take it." That last one really pushed Dan's buttons and he demanded Greg to come into the ring for sparring. He got his ass handed to him, but he also punched Greg hard in the face a few times too, and that was extremely satisfying.

One day, The Suit was delivered. Dan had gotten used to using capital letters to describe it. It was the journey and the destination all rolled into one. He put it up in the closet and tried not to look at it, since it was so small against his frame.

By the third week, Dan had gotten into the rhythm. He was writing during lunch times and after the evening work out -- he'd completed his treatment and was writing a screenplay version of it, and also he'd learned to cook better meals. He seriously missed pizza and beer and made a mistake one day by buying some diet beer.

He was on the recumbent bike when Greg came down and looked at his times and distances. Greg said, "Stay on there for an extra twenty minutes Dan. You need to do another ninety calories."

This was micromanagement of the type Greg didn't normally do, and Dan looked at him. "You can work off this EXTRA CAN OF BEER." Said Greg, his voice rising at the end as he waved a can taken from Dan's fridge at him. It was extra humiliating since he was in the general weights room, so all the other clients could hear.

"Ninety Calories Dan. That's one beer. Have fun," said Greg, throwing the unopened can in the trash.

The result of that little altercation was almost life altering for Dan. From then on, everything he ate was equated with how much exercise it would take to balance it out and remove it from his system. A pizza? Two hours swimming, or forty minutes with the heavy bag. A glass of wine? Thirty minutes on the epileptical. It made every meal a balance of whether he was prepared to pay the exercise price for what he had in front of him. Sometimes he was, mostly he wasn't. It made it easier to turn it down or miss a favorite when he looked at what he ate through that filter.

There were some other odd things that happened. He got to know some of the more frequent and regular visitors to the gym. Some of them he knew smiled out the side of their mouths as they saw his big ass flopping over the edges of the small bike seat, with him peddling furiously and sweating up a storm. But some were genuinely interested. One older lady was convinced he was 'doing something for charity', another that 'he had to loose the weight or die', still a third that he was making some kind of documentary.

For his part, Dan found most of the women who were prepared to talk to him either ditzy to the extreme, with nothing to say that someone else hadn't carefully prepared and poured into their brains first, OR the lack of anything in common was an obstacle. He wasn't a high-powered exec, like lots of these people were. They expected him to understand what they were talking about when they talked about boardroom filibusters or investment strategies. He just generally nodded and smiled and carried on running or pulling or just sitting and sweating, as he did a lot of that.

One morning he was using a particular weight machine -- he did a lot of that rather than free weights, since the machines forced his body into the right posture. Greg had been very clear that posture mattered greatly if you want to exercise the right muscle groups and also have them develop in the shape desired. Some tall guy with great grey hair was waiting impatiently to use the machine while Dan finished up his sets of repetitions. He was looking daggers at Dan till he got off the machine and fumed even more while Dan wiped down the seat and the arm grabs from his sweat. Dan looked at him and said, "Sorry dude," and walked away. As he did so he heard the man mutter, "Fucking butter ball."

Dan had heard a lot of that in his life and he stopped and stiffened, and almost turned around to challenge the guy, but after a second, just walked on. Life was too short for that.

At the end of the third week, Dan had lost another five pounds, making a total of twenty-one. He was on his way.

Despite what he had said to June, she was still texting him on occasion. She was using small one-line sentences, designed so that she knew he'd see the entire sentiment with just the text alert on his iPhone. Things like "Love you" and "Missing you" and "Thinking about you" came in at odd times, usually at least once a day. He also got emails that were longer, with details of what she was doing, where she was. He usually got at least two of those a week -- filled with the specifics of her day. For the most part they matched up with the PI reports he'd gotten, which was good.

As the days and weeks passed, several small events occurred. The first was a total embarrassment at the pool. After doing seventy lengths one morning, Dan heaved himself out of the water, only to find his swimsuit around his ankles. He realized he'd actually lost so much weight, they didn't fit any more. Not matter how he tightened them, they just slipped off. It was a moment's embarrassment but afterwards, he was on cloud nine. He found that most of his clothes didn't fit like they use to any more. On one of his belts he had to make a new notch just so it would tighten. He had to make a few trips to Target to get some newer clothes and when he did so, it gave him a pang. He never went cloth shopping without June before.

Another milestone was the realization that he'd replaced all the caffeine in his life. It wasn't something he'd even realized he'd done till he had a can of diet Mountain Dew and his heart rate had shot up and he'd been worried. It was only afterwards that he's realized that not only had he cut out caffeine completely, but soda in general. And he didn't miss it. That had been a shock.

His boxing was getting better. He still got a hit a lot in the ring but he was starting to both be able to see incoming attacks, and also get out of the way. He still wasn't landing a lot of hits, but he could also get out of the ring without being too sore or breathing too hard.

He noticed his game playing habits had changed too. He was still playing his old games that he'd brought from home, but he was playing them differently. Before, he'd had played Call of Duty and gone everywhere in a level to be sure that he'd gotten everything on offer. Now he went everywhere to ensure he killed everything. He was practicing headshots, and blowing people away. On the level where you have to play as a terrorist, before Junes incident, he would have just hung back and not shot innocent people. Now he got stuck in there, blowing away the Non Player Characters. In Grand Theft Auto, he would never have run over anyone or beaten up hookers -- now he did with gusto. He noticed this disturbing new trend when he had to go to a cheat sheet to figure out how to respray his car, because the cops where constantly on his tail. He reasoned he was just pissed off and bitter and it was coming out this way; better in a game than in life.

The reports from the PI's were reassuring. June had gone back to work; she was now working as a full producer for a new HBO show called War Moments, which were reenactments of the more poignant moments in the various world wars, all acted out with Oscar awarded or nominated actors. One of the executive producers was Tom Hanks. Apparently Stallone had liked her work but couldn't have her on his staff after the way she'd let him down in New Orleans, but he'd recommended her to HBO and now she had a regular full time gig in LA.

The rest of it was relatively mundane. She'd been asked out several times from what the PI's could see,- and they were on the case just a couple of times a week, which means there had been more,- and she'd turned them all down very firmly. They've even gotten audio of one, where she told the guy that when her husband got back, she'd be informing him of this mans attentions, and her husband was a LARGE guy and pretty unforgiving of things like that. And smiled sweetly at him while she said it.

There was one interesting conversation she'd had one lunchtime that Dan found very enlightening. She'd been in Santa Monica, at one of their favorite restaurants there. The agency's operative had, quite by chance, managed to get the next booth from where June was sitting, with her friend Megan. Dan knew Megan. He found her a strange duck. Megan had exactly two topics of conversation. One was how great she was at her job -- she was another freelance producer, specializing in animated movies - and the other was about how much cock she was getting. June and Dan had often talked about how Megan used sex to prop up her terrible self-image of work competence. She was well meaning, sweet in her own way, not bad looking but terribly dull conversationalist although she did swear like a sailor, which was very entertaining -- hearing those words come out of this little sweet looking young girl. June and Dan had their own short code for discussing Megan and Dan had even drawn up bingo cards for a Megan Chat. June hadn't stopped giggling about it for a week.




MetaMorph Ch. 03



Dan read the transcript of the conversation with interest. It answered a few questions, and he also found it interesting that of all the people June would confide in, it was Megan. He also got a load of what Megan really thought of him, and it wasn't flattering. He'd had no idea she held him in the contempt she did.

Megan: So what's up girlie girl? You look pretty crap. What's occurring? Work blues?

June: No, I fucked up. You mean you haven't heard yet? I thought it was all over the production smoke signals.

M: No? What? What happened? Fatty do something stupid again?

J: Megan, please don't call him that, ok? He's my husband. I know you don't agree with my choices, but they are my choices.

M: _unintelligible_

J: Yes, well, I was a stupid ass. I think I may have blown my marriage.

M: What, you been out there gettin' some strange? <laughs> Might do you some good if you did you know. Open your eyes to the fact that there are people out there who don't make your skin crawl when they touch you.

J: Megan, if you carry on like this, I'll pop you myself. Can we just talk about this without the insults?

M: _unintelligible_

J: Yeah, well, 'the juice' as you call it, is that I cheated.

M: WHAT? You? Mrs. Married? You finally got some different? Well halleluiah! Was it good?

J: No. Well, yes, but Dan found out. It was while I was working on the Stallone show in New Orleans. There was this guy on the crew I met before we went out there. He's a player, that much was obvious, but he was cute, well made, well dressed, paid attention, the whole thing. I dunno, I just was stressed, I was tired, the night it started I was drunk, and I just let it happen.

M: I'm impressed girl. I never thought you had it in you, so to speak. Was it good?

J: It was ok. It was good. It was new, you know? All the little pleasures of finding out about a new person. The furtive glances and touches and all that. It wasn't going to last; that much was obvious. Like I said, this guy was a player.

M: _unintelligible_

J: He was Justin's trainer.

M: Oh! So hot body then? Does the snake match the muscles?

J: Not really. He was ok, not huge. Dan is bigger in fact. He did different things with it, but it's not like the sex was super awesome. It was nice to do different positions and be with someone flexible, but it's not like I became some kind of sex cock monster.

M: _laugh_ You just hadn't let go enough for it that to happen. Let me guess, after each time, you had stomach-wrenching guilt?

J: YES. It was awful.

M: Not awful enough to stop you doing it again though, I'm guessing.

J: Yeah. I don't know what was wrong with me. It was like I was living a totally different and separate life. My life in New Orleans working on that movie was like an island. I don't understand it.

M: So, what's going on now? Is it done? Back to Dan?

J: Dan caught us on the last night. I'd been back to LA for some ADR work and I was half disgusted at myself and half mad at Dan. I have no idea why -- he'd done nothing wrong, just supported me and loved me like he always did. We had sex one of the nights I was home and I gave Dan my ass.

M: _unintelligible_

J: Yes, I know, you love it. You've told me. Repeatedly. It was ok. Different. Not something I would want to do a lot of, but you know... trouble is, I only did it because this guy had suggested it. I think he wanted to fuck me there too, and I wouldn't let him. I told him that no one got there unless my husband did. So he gave me this speech about not holding back for my hubby and all that crap. How I shouldn't be doing anything with him I didn't do for Dan, and how, if I loved Dan, I should be offering him everything. How Dan should have no suspicions and it was only right that he got all I had to offer. And I bought it. Hook line and sinker. And the next day, I hated myself even more because I'd only really offered Dan my ass was because this guy had told me to. I didn't do because I wanted to, but because I felt guilty about what I was doing, and I think that in the back of my head I knew that if this guy, Greg, really pressed it, I'd probably give in at some point. I couldn't let that happen with out Dan going there first. I dunno, in my fucked up logic I thought that made it more ok or something.

M: Wow Girl. This is...fucked up. Even for me. So Mr. Lover Boy is pushing you into doing things for Dan so he can get them, and you are letting him? Wow. Are you in love with this guy or something?

J: God no. Far from it. I have no idea why I did it. I love Dan, always have and always will. I have no idea why I gave into this guy in the first place, and even less idea why I would do something like this.

M: Sounds to me like you've got a control complex.

J: A what?

M: Strong man, his demands, he's reasonable but firm and applies pressure and you go for it. A submissive streak in you. I can only imagine it's why you hooked up with Dan in the first place.

J: _unintelligible_

M: Sure it's possible. I dunno if that's you exactly, but it's possible. Either way, I'd see someone about this June. This kind of thing can seriously fuck up your life if you don't understand your motivation.

J: Too late for that. Like I said, Dan walked in on us. Or rather, we walked in on him. After Dan and I had sex that night, I was disgusted at myself again, and I provoked a fight and walked away from Dan at the airport. Dan must have thought it was something he did. He came to New Orleans to surprise me. I had been out with Greg at a local bar on Bourbon street, where there were naked guys on the bar, dancing, holding just a towel over their junk. I was hot and bothered and we made it back to the hotel room. When I got there, we couldn't wait. Greg was in me in a second and then Dan walked out of the bathroom. He just left -- went to the airport and left. He didn't say anything, he just left. He'd brought rose petals and put them on the bed and my favorite Napa Champaign and had it put on ice. I thought Greg had done that. Can you believe it? I was thanking my lover for things my husband had done. Christ, how I've hurt him Megan. I can't believe what a shit I've been <sobs>.

M: Jesus Wept June. Where is Dan now? When was this? Is he talking to you now?

J: He's gone. He was gone when I got back. I quit the Stallone job -- they were going to sue me at one point till I got to sit down with Sylvester and straighten it out. He wasn't that impressed, but I don't blame him. Dan was gone for several days, then he shows up, gathers up some clothes, points out to me exactly how much of a slut I was and how it made him feel -- he knew about Greg pushing me for the ass thing, I have no idea how -- and told me he was leaving for a while and he'd be back in a few months. He needed to get his head together. I have no idea where he is. The comic book shop hasn't seen him and none of the friends that I know about know where he is. His friend Donnie is ducking me when I try and talk to him. I had thought he might have gone back to Madison but no one there has seen him either. I'm at my wits end over this. I can't forgive myself, I can't find my husband and I literally have no one to tell about this. So yeah, that's what lunch is about.

M: So, what are you going to do when you do find him or he shows up?

J: That's just it. I have no idea. You know what his lasts words were to me before he left? Figure out how I can make it up to him. I asked him how I was supposed to do it and he just said I made this mess, I fix it. I can understand what he means but I have no idea of how to show him I love him.

M: No idea's at all?

J: Well, I did think about offering him the chance to...have his own adventure. That would make us even.

M: _laughing_ What kind of offer is that? Who the fuck is gonna take him up on that? He's a three hundred pound lard ass loser. Who's gonna wanna fuck that? Besides you?

J: Well, I had wondered about..um...you? Or craigslist or something?

M: Yeah, stow that idea girlfriend. I may be a cock monster, but even I wouldn't go near that. Besides, that's not a solution in anyway.

J: What?

M: Making that kind of offer is not about him at all. It's about you. You only offer him that so you are equal. But you aren't. You betrayed him. He hasn't betrayed you. Him getting some strange because you've authorized it doesn't make you equal. Besides, it's an empty offer and you know it. No one is going to be running after him to make you jealous and you know that. And even then, if it did happen, it's not about him. It's about you. You are trying to punish yourself here, not show him you love him. You imagine for a second that either he'd go for it? He's a loser, but he loves you June. He doesn't want another woman. He wants you to have not done what you did.

J: _unintelligible_

M: Look, while it's pretty awesome to be seeing the great Junie Perry on a downer and lost at sea...

J: What the hell?

M: June, you are a scary broad professionally. You scare the crap out of people. You are icily efficient, you take no shit off anyone and you run a movie production like it's the invasion of Iraq, and you take about as many prisoners. Seeing you up shit creek without a paddle and no idea of how to steer is...entertaining, but I do empathize.

J: Well, I'm glad my suffering amuses you.

M: You brought it on yourself girlfriend. Don't blame me because I see the irony of the situation.

J: Look, what do I do? I need him back.

M: As I see it, you have two options. One is to take this opportunity to cut loose from Lardy and live your life for yourself; god knows you deserve it after supporting his ass for so long.

J: _unintelligible_

M: Yeah, kinda figured you'd say that. Have to put it out there though girl. Don't blame me when you regret not taking this opportunity though. So, option two. You have to get through to Dan that you are sorry. Have you said sorry?

J: Yes. Although I think he took it to mean I was sorry for being caught, not doing it.

M: Are you sorry?

J: What kind of question is that? Of course I am!

M: Really? It didn't seem to stop you at the time.

J: I just...I dunno. When I wasn't doing it, I was so disgusted with myself. But when the opportunity came up, I took it. I just don't know why. I wasn't thinking about hurting Dan -- I just wasn't thinking about our marriage at all. I wasn't sorry at the time when I was doing it because it was exciting and new. Now I realize the impact -- how sorry can you be when you've destroyed what you love because you just weren't thinking about it at the time?

M: Honestly girlfriend, that sounds like a lot of psycho babble bullshit. You cannot go to bed with someone else and not understand or think about the effect it would have on your marriage if it came out. You just can't. But we'll gloss over that for now. That's a conversation for another day.

J:I...

M: So back to option two. You throw yourself on Dan's mercy. You do everything you possibly can to make him understand you love him, he's the one, the only one, the only one there will ever be and I'm going to make myself sick if I carry on talking like this about your sweaty Simpsons Comic book guy. You said he stopped by, did you talk about what happened?

J: A bit.

M: Let me guess. Did he ask you to be truthful about everything?

J: Yes.

M: Were you?

J: Pretty much.

M: What does that mean?

J: He asked me about us having anal sex -- why I did it. I didn't mention it was Greg's idea and he already seemed to know about it.

M: Wow. I wonder how. Still, you really screwed that pooch. No wonder he doesn't trust you. I wouldn't either after that. You lied about the one thing that really mattered to him. After you told him you wouldn't. After you'd already betrayed him.  

J: I couldn't tell him the truth! I couldn't. He was already so hurt, so broken. Me telling him that would have broken it even more, perhaps beyond fixing. I couldn't do it to him.

M: Yeah, that worked out, didn't it? Girl, you really have fucked up here. I don't know if you are going to be able to pick up the pieces of this. When he does show up, you say 'I'm really sorry Honey. I will do whatever you feel is appropriate.' You do not ask him where he's been or what he's been doing -- you say 'Whatever you want to tell me is ok. I will not ask.' And you don't ask. I know you. You'll try and get it out of him. Whatever he's been doing, that's up to him to tell you.

J: I do have some rights here you know Megan. He is still my husband.

M: See, that's you fucking it all up again June. No, you don't. You have no rights here at all. You traded those away for a few nights of sweaty sex with Mr. Universe. Until you truly understand and accept that, your marriage is doomed. Whatever he's doing -- whomever he is doing -- you have zero right to even ask. Am I getting through?

J: If you say so.

M: And while we are at it, if -- and that's a very big if -- you ever get intimate with him again, you do NOT trot out ANY of the tricks and tips that you may have picked up from Mr. Biceps, you hear?

J: What? Why not? If I'm better at something or have a new way to make him happy, why wouldn't I want to bring that out?

M: June, you are such a fucking idiot at times. No, you are. Think for a second. Because none of those tricks come from you. He'll know exactly where they come from. You do something you've learned from the other guy and Dan's erection will leave the room, closely followed by Dan. You wanna bring those out a year from now, on a birthday or an anniversary, then fine. Tell him you watched a porno or read it in a book. But right now, you need to be exactly as he remembers you. Got it?

J: Yeah, I get it. It's a fucking minefield, isn't it?

M: Yep. And you threw out the mines.

J: I just want him back. I want him to stop hurting.

M: If only wishing would make it so -- I'd be married to Johnny Depp by now. Look. You say he isn't talking to you? Can he get emails?

J: Yeah. He told me he wasn't going to look at any from me -- or texts either. I've been sending them to him anyway. Short ones, so I know he'll see them on the iPhone alerts thing. I've written him a few emails, trying to tell him what I am doing. I've no idea if he reads them or not. I don't get any replies.

M: Ok, well, here's the plan then. You, lady, are going to write him some emails. If he gets them, great. If not, well, you have planned out what you are going to say when you see him in person. You are gonna lay it out 100% and be as upfront and honest as you can. No sparing of any feelings. You need to rebuild the honesty and trust and this is how you start. You are also going to need to get professional help. I don't think you are really facing up to why you did this in the first place -- so far I've heard a lot of procrastination and bullshit. I think the real reason is going to be depressingly simple -- he wanted you, you could get away with it, it wasn't going to come home, it's was temporary, the guy was hot and he wasn't three hundred pounds and you felt entitled after carrying the couch potato for so long. I think that's the root of it. However, be that as it may, you need someone with a document on a wall to tell you that. And you need to listen. And you need to understand that if you love your man, you won't put yourself in that situation again, because you will do it again if nothing changes.

J: You think that's enough?

M: No, not even remotely. But the fact is, there's fuck all else you can do until he surfaces. Keep your nose clean, no dating and just become a homebody. Dan -- much as I think he's a lard ass -- he does love you. I don't doubt he's somewhere in far worse pain that you are dearie. You think you are suffering? The male ego is a fragile thing, probably even more fragile when you are a three hundred pound lardy who no one wants to employ. What you did would have smashed it, stamped on it and then shit on it. He had nothing to his name June. Nothing, besides you. And you lied to him, fucked someone else, then fucked him and gave him a 'gift' and then he finds out it's not even from you. I don't wonder the guy has run off. I'm just surprised he didn't beat your ass first. God knows you deserved it.

J: I know. You think I don't know?

M: Well, the evidence to-date wouldn't convince a jury, would it? For someone you proclaim to love as much as you do, you sure haven't done a lot of that, have you? Like I said, you need professional help to sort that out.

J: Megan. I just don't know what to do.

M: You gave him a worthless gift June. Worse than that. He's pissed, and rightly so.

J: _laugh_ You know, he used almost those exact same words. So, what do I do?

M: You have to think of something else to give him that comes from you and only you. Something that cannot be argued with.

J: What?

M: Fucked if I know Girlie. Right, lets eat.

J: Megan? How do you know all this? What to do?

M: I wasn't always a cock monster June. I had a guy once. And I fucked it all up, just like you are doing. Only for me, there was no way back. Some lessons are hard earned.

The rest of the transcript was them eating and talking about work. It was a little strained, when Dan read between the lines, but still. It was enlightening.



MetaMorph Ch. 04



The weeks turned into months. Dan was wearing tracksuits almost exclusively now, since he was losing weight and his waist size decreasing. He'd started out at a forty-four, and now, nine weeks in, he was now a forty. He was pretty proud of that. He was still large and had a belly, but he also now had shoulder muscles, the first time in his life. His biceps and triceps were growing and getting harder. His legs looked great. 

The boxing was really taking off. The two sparring partners he had were still trying to take his head off, but they were now a lot more respectful of his reach and his power. In any given practice, he could land hits on them and sometimes make it count. He'd already knocked both of them down during sparring and he felt pretty good about that.

Unfortunately, what it meant was that they were just getting more vicious. Since they didn't already know they could take him on any more, they were getting nastier with their punches. He got an elbow in the face at one point that had blood streaming out of his nose. A few times he had kidney punches that were very painful. Greg saw it and did nothing about it, and Dan just shrugged and figured that if he could deal with this, he could deal with anything in the real world.

Whenever he could, Dan got Greg himself up into the ring to spar. He figured Greg got to watch him spar and see his weak spots; it was only fair that he got to see some of Greg's. Dan had never lost sight of that end match. He wanted all the information he could possibly get.

Something else happened one morning. Dan was waiting to use the leg squat machine in the gym one evening, and he noticed it was being used – by the same guy who had called him a butterball that one time. Dan just went over and sat on a machine opposite and just waited, quietly, drinking water. He could see the man had noticed him and was trying to catch his eye. Dan just wasn't interested in another confrontation, and after waiting for five minutes got up to leave. 

The man suddenly finished his exercise and sat and said, "Hey...don't go. I'm almost done."

Dan looked at him and decided on impulse to wait it out.

The man said, "Hey look. I think – no, I know – the last time we encountered each other I was unpardonably rude. I...look, I need to apologize. I was having a really bad day – well, week, actually – and you just got in the firing line. I'm sorry I was rude."

Dan honestly didn't know what to say. No one apologized to him. He didn't know what the next move was, so he said, "Umm, sure, I guess."

The man looked at him and said, "I've seen you around here a lot recently. In fact, you've always been here whenever I've been here. Some kind of crash weight loss course?"

"Something like that, " said Dan.

The man nodded and said, "Yeah, I've seen Greg do it a few times. I'm Caddy by the way. My mother named me Card, Card Nelson and, well, everyone calls me Caddy." He stretched out his hand.

Dan looked at the hand, and then, on another impulse took it, shook it and said, "I'm Dan."

"So Dan, what's the occasion? Got a movie part or something?"

"No, nothing like that. It's...personal."

"Ahh, sorry I pried," said Caddy.

"It's ok. You weren't to know. I know it's weird, but it's something I have to do."

"I get that," said Caddy, nodding. "We all have our Everest's to climb."

And that was the start of a new friendship. Caddy was in the gym three times a week and they started getting a smoothie at the juice bar at the end of their workouts and talking. They talked movies, actors, books they'd read. It turned out Caddy was an agent, and the moment he heard that, Dan determined he would never tell him he was a writer. This was the first friend Dan had that was worth a lot professionally, and Dan wanted no hint that he was using him. When asked what he did, Dan said he was a 'professional nerd' and that he worked in a comic book store. Caddy accepted that.

Over the next two weeks, they became better friends – Caddy showed Dan pictures of his wife and kids, and explained that they were in France on a European tour right now. Then he invited Dan out for dinner. And Dan went. He had no idea what to expect – a car came and picked him up - and found himself at Morton's Steakhouse in Beverly Hills. The two had a great evening, and Dan even indulged in two glasses of wine, the first alcohol he'd had in months.

After the dinner detritus was cleared away, Caddy sat back and said, "Right, time for a brandy and then you can tell me exactly why you are doing all this exercise?"

Dan was caught. He had just enjoyed an awesome meal – that was going to cost him time on the skiing machine tomorrow - and now he was cornered. The brandy arrived and he took a mouthful and decided What The Fuck. He was going to tell it to Caddy. No one else knew apart from Donnie – it would do him good to talk to someone.

"My wife of years cheated on me," he started. 

Caddy nodded and said, "Yeah, I had a feeling it was something like that. You never talk about a wife or girlfriend, but you aren't gay. I see your eyes following some of the hotties at the gym."

"She cheated on me with Greg Hamilton, who runs the gym."

Caddy's eyes widened at that. "Seriously? And you are there, what, to get the skinny on him before you take him to the cleaners?"

Dan looked down and said, "No, not quite. Greg offered me a deal. A way to get back my self respect and loose the weight."

Caddy frowned. "Is this some kind of cuckold thing? You get his services while he gets your wife's?"

"NO." said Dan, forcefully. He was aware other people had looked around at his raised voice, so he lowered it. "No, it was broken off when I walked in on them in New Orleans. He came to me and offered me this. At the end of the training, I get to face him in the ring."

Slowly a large smile wiped itself around Caddy's face. "Dan, I think you need to start at the beginning here. I think there's a hell of a story here."

So Dan did. He told Caddy of his marriage, of June, of the fight, of him going to New Orleans, of the aftermath and of Greg's offer. During it, they had another brandy. Dan shrugged – he wasn't driving so why not.

At the end, Caddy just sat back and said, "Jesus Dan. Fuck me I don't think I could do what you are doing. You so even tempered. I'd have hired someone to take him out by now. And her. It's one HELL of a story."

Dan just smiled back. He was feeling no pain at this point, due to the wine and the brandy.

"In fact, my friend, I wonder if I might have your permission to commission a treatment of this? This is something I could sell to the Hallmark channel, at the very least. Beat down large husband reinvents himself to take back his woman? They'd eat that up."

The smile froze a bit on Dan's face. He sat there, not knowing what to say. Then something Greg said, about opportunities came back. 'Fuck it,' thought Dan, 'faint heart never fucked a pig.' It was a phrase his father used and Dan had never really understood until now.

"What if I could save you the trouble?" said Dan.

Caddy looked at him, confused. Then his face cleared. "Don't tell me. You're a writer. Of course you are. Everyone in LA who is not an actor wannabe is. Why didn't I see that?"

"Umm...look, the thing is Caddy, I don't have that many friends. If I had told you I was a writer, you'd have filed me into that group and thought I wanted something from you. I just...want to hang out. I didn't want you to think that."

Caddy smiled slowly. "Yeah, I can get that. It is an occupational hazard. So, you already have a treatment? Can you send it to me? You have my email address. I'll take a look and...well Dan, I have to say, I have no idea if you can write or not. I want you to be prepared that I might say 'thanks, but no thanks' and take it to some one else ok? I don't want there to be any implied promises here."

Dan laughed quietly.

Caddy said, "What's so funny?"

"Caddy, I've been in LA for almost eight years. I've never had anyone look at my stuff except to stamp Rejected on it. You just looking at it is more than I've had since I got here. You know it has no ending yet though?"

Caddy sighed. "Well, it might be because it stinks dude. Be aware of that. But if it does, I'm still your friend, ok? As for no ending, well, it will soon, right? Now, no more shop talk. I want to know what you are going to do when you get home."

Dan's smile went sadder and he said, "I honestly don't know. One day at a time. I need to get past the anger first. That colors everything and while the concept of scorched earth is attractive, I need to get past that. I do love her, but I just don't know if I can deal with the sheer betrayal of it all, you know?"

Caddy looked at his friend sympathetically. "You need to get loaded Dan. And thankfully, I am just the man to help"

And so they did. Dan was dropped off at 4:30am and the next day was one of the most painful ones he'd ever had. His head hurt and his body did not want to cooperate. But he struggled through. And during lunch, he emailed his treatment to Caddy.

Caddy didn't reply till that evening and his email was simple. 

'This is great. I should have trusted in your ability. There are two questions now. The first is, can I represent you and the second is, is there a script to go with this? – Caddy.'

Dan just looked at the email. It didn't register. Had he just got an agent? It looked like it.

Once it registered, Dan jumped up and danced around, hollering and whooping. After a minute of doing that, he realized how ridiculous he looked, and he just wanted to tell someone, and that brought him up short. The only person he wanted to tell, he couldn't. He just couldn't tell her. And that brought him back down to earth.

He crashed into the easy chair in his apartment and really started to think about the future – how he felt, what he wanted and what his options were. And they weren't happy thoughts.

Two days later, Dan fired off the script he'd written for his experience, - called 'Metamorph' – to Caddy. He'd waited two days to go through the script again, for another pass, adding and tweaking dialog and adding in two new scenes. He was on pins and needles waiting for a response, and he got hit twice in the ring from Greg because his mind wasn't 100% there. Needless to say, after the second belting, he put the script out of his mind and concentrated on trying to beat the snot out of Greg instead.

Instead of Caddy emailing him, Caddy showed up at the gym instead. Dan saw him come in, but was working out on the bags at the time. Forty-five minutes later, Dan was sitting at the juice bar, impatiently waiting for Caddy to join him. When Caddy slipped into the seat next to him, he smiled at Dan and said, "I'll just bet you've been chewing your nails, waiting for me, haven't you?"

Dan just looked at him and Caddy held up his hands, 'Ok ok, it was cruel of me to work out first. But you know all about that. Ok. So here's the deal. The script is good. There are some small issues with it, but frankly, as a first time writer, you've hit the nail on the head. Your script is almost shootable – there aren't too many locations, the characters resonant and there's consistency. I've been talking with the Hallmark Channel on your behalf and they are more than interested. I think they want to buy it – they've certainly been talking that way. However, there are three obstacles. The first is that you need to come to my office and officially sign on the dotted line so I can represent you. The deal is a three-year exclusivity – so you are mine for three years. I get 15% of what I negotiate for you – that's the standard rate – and we also act as agents for any other works you may have. I will also get you work as a scriptwriter on other shows – they are always looking for new views on their stuff. That's the gist of it, anyway – it's all very boilerplate and standard, what we offer all new writers. Assuming you are ok with that, then it's just a question of coming in and signing.

The second is that you are not part of the union, and you have to be. So the way we deal with that is that Hallmark buys the script, gets fined by the union for buying from a non union writer, they – or rather, we – pay the fine and then we apply for membership on the back of the fact you have a script purchased. It gets around the whole catch 22 thing, and it's what we do for everyone. It'll cost you $5k out of you initial earnings and while being a member of the union is necessary to get work, also understand it's a commitment. You have to pay your dues to get the health benefits and all the rest of that. Which are, by the way, extendable to your wife. I don't know if that really matters, just mentioning it.

OK, so those are easily solvable. The third is that the script is incomplete. There's no third act yet. I know that's because you haven't gone through it yet, but without an ending, I can't sell this. Hallmark is hot to trot, but we need that ending. What do you propose?"

Dan was shell-shocked. Everything he'd ever wanted was being presented to him on a plate. Now he had to eat it.

"I can do that. In fact, how about this? How about I give you, oh, three different endings, and they can pick the one they like the best?"

Caddy sat back, considering that. "You can do that? Wow, that's unusual. Normally a writer is so in love with his story and creations that that idea would never fly. The guys at Hallmark will love this, and love you. How soon can you get those done?"

Dan thought hard. "Give me a week?"

"That's awesome. I wish all my scriptwriters could turn stuff around that fast. I'll make some calls tomorrow and we should be able to wrap this deal up in a month. Understand though, selling the script doesn't mean it gets made. But it does mean you get paid."

"Yeah, speaking of that..." said Dan, "umm, not wanting to sound greedy..."

Caddy laughed and nodded to the juice bar attendant and indicated a strawberry/apple smoothie.

"You want to know how much? Ok, lets see... standard theatrical, non network channel, 90 minutes, that should be....yeah, the standard WGA rate is about sixty five K."

Dan's eyes widened. "Sixty five thousands??"

"Yeah, but since they've been enthusiastic, we can boost that. I think the top end range is around one hundred and twenty k. I suspect that with a bit of negotiation, you should clear a hundred grand on this."

"A...hundred...?" Dan was shaken.

"Dan, you are a professional now. This is what good writers command. Trust me, if this goes the way I think it will, you will be in demand. You'll be asking a lot more of that once you've sold a few scripts and people see what you can do."

"I..."

"Dan, take a moment. It's all good. It can all fall apart of course, to pour some cold water on all this. But, you've got people in your corner now. You aren't alone; you've got me looking out for you. Now go away and write me some good shit so I can sell it and we all get paid and laid."

Dan looked at Caddy.

"Ok, well, maybe not the last one, although frankly, you could use that too."

The smoothie arrived and Caddy picked it up and said, "Cheers Dan. To the future!" and sucked down a long pull.

Another three weeks went past. Dan cracked a rib in the ring when a bout got particularly nasty. He knew he'd broken the other guys nose, even through the headgear. Even Greg scrambled up into the ring to separate them.

After looking at the other guy, Greg came over to where Dan sat, nursing his left side. 

"Hurts like a motherfucker, doesn't it?" he said. Dan nodded.

"What's worse is that there is nothing we can do about it. They don't even tape up broken ribs any more. You just have to suffer through it and take Advil. It's going to be very painful tomorrow, so you have a day off. Come back on Thursday."

Dan nodded, still in pain.

"Oh and Dan. Think about this. You broke that guys nose. Think you could have even thought of doing that when you started?"

It was painful. Dan went back on Thursday and took it very easy. It wasn't long before he was in agony, and Greg sent him to the hot tub. Dan was amazed at how much you used his ribs in almost anything he did. Almost every act was agony for two or three days and he was popping Advil like it was tic-tacs, before it became a dull throb and eventually subsiding. In the meantime Dan polished the script he'd prepared for Caddy and Hallmark, with its three endings. They'd still not decided which ending to pick, and so Dan just polished up all three.

In the mean time, he also started in on something new. An idea he'd had while working out, and he wanted to see if it had any legs.

And then it came. The long email from June. He knew it had been coming since he read the transcript from Megan and June weeks back. He had no idea if he was going to read it when it did arrive, but, of course, he did.

Since then, June had continued to send him texts, never letting up. The emails still came; she'd bought a cat for company, calling it Heinz since it was an orange tabby cat. They had an in-joke regarding Heinz Baked Beans, a British delicacy. When they were at U of W together, they had an English friend who had introduced them to Heinz Baked Beans on toast. They both fell in love with it and bought tins of Heinz Baked Beans whenever they saw them.

She was still working at HBO. They'd started primary shooting on the first episode of War Moments in Italy, and she'd had a few long meetings with Tom Hanks, and been invited out to dinner with Steven Spielberg – one of Hanks' friends – and his wife. She'd declined – regretfully – because her husband wasn't there to escort her. Spielberg had offered a rain check until he returned from his business trip, which is where she'd told him Dan was.

But it was late in the day when the long email came in. Dan could see it on his iPhone, but couldn't get the will up to read it, until he was done for the day, and could read it on his laptop.

He sat down in the little apartment with a smoothie, with vodka added – Greg would have had a fit – and he opened the email.

Dear Dan,

I have no idea if you'll read this, but in the chance that you will, I have to say things. If you don't, well, I'll say them in person to you when I see you. Assuming you come back. Please come back.

I've been seeing someone – a professional psychologist. I was advised that this would be a good idea, since I still don't really know why I did what I did. I needed more background, and so I've been seeing Doctor Bellingham for the past few weeks. Can you believe I found her through yelp? I thought you'd find that funny.

So, according to Doctor Bellingham, I am suffering from a perfect storm of circumstances. Our relationship being where it is – more on that in a moment – being away from home without you for the first time, being over stressed and tired from working too hard and taking on too much too fast, seeing the whole experience as something 'outside' our life together.

I am told by the Doctor that this is somewhat common. Apparently I'm a compartmentalizer. I divide up my life into small separate cases – you may have noticed I don't talk that much about my day to day work life. You've never pried, and I really appreciate that, but apparently it's another example of this on my part. My behavior in New Orleans was another example of this – everything was compartmentalized. What I did there was nothing to do with my life with you in LA. I think I understood this at a conceptual level, but I didn't understand why or how I could think that. Because it just came naturally to me, because of who I am and what I do, I thought everyone was like this. That's why I kept trying to tell you that what happened there had nothing to do with us – it was no reflection on your or our life together.




MetaMorph Ch. 04



Of course it wasn't any such thing and of course you'd be hurt and our relationship damaged and it was just my own self defense mechanisms trying to divert the over whelming guilt that was being generated from what I had done. It doesn't really explain why I did it again – or perhaps it does, I don't know. I wish I could ask you what you think.

So you asked me why. According to the Doctor, there are two aspects. One is that I subconsciously felt like I was carrying you in the relationship. I don't want you to read that and think I am trying to blame you – that's not it at all. I'm trying to explain what my brain was doing. I'm a producer – by definition what I do is produce. I make people do their jobs and get it done. But with you, I can't. You are my husband, my partner. I cannot push you in the way I do at work, nor do I want to. But the lack of success you've had bothers me. Again, this is ¬not your fault in any way; I know you've tried and LA has just been a closed door to you. I know you have the talent but just can't get that foot in the door. That would be enough to frustrate any man. But it's contrary to who I am. Not only could I not help you because of what our relationship is based on, you made it clear you didn't want me to anyway. I respect that...well, mostly.

In the interests of honesty, I need to tell you, I have taken some of your stuff to meetings with me. I have tried to get you work, in a way that you'd never know. I just...had to. It's part of who I am and part of what I need to do for you. I think that, looking back, this was probably more of a hindrance to you than the help I thought I was giving. Too many of the people and producers I was talking to weren't interested in you or your writings – they just wanted me around. In my defense, any time I saw that I broke off whatever negotiations might have been happening, but now I think about it more, I do have to wonder if your name became synonymous with the woman-who-wouldn't-put-out. I don't know but either way, I have to apologize again. There's going to be a lot of that in the future, I suspect.

Anyway. I think that because I wasn't able to be a producer for you, I resented you for that. I think my subconscious thought I was carrying you. Without being personal, I'm sure you can see why I would think that. I doubt anything I am saying is not something you've already thought. I don't mean to try and make you think that the way you are is wrong or incomplete – far from it. I love who you are. I just need you to understand where my animal brain was.

I think that this resentment coupled with my own guilt about what I'd been up to in New Orleans was why I provoked you when I was in LA, and why I was so short with you. None of that you deserved or expected – that was my own fucked up wiring being put on you. I'm sorry my love. I can't say that often enough.

So there's the low level resentment, and then there's the other part that I've been advised is part of my personality make up. I don't honestly buy this on a conscious level, but I'm told it's there and explains part of what I did.

Apparently I have some deep-rooted submission streak. Not a huge one – not anything that makes me need to wear any of those stupid clothes or run around and call any one master or get slapped around or anything like that. Just a need, at times, to have a man tell me what to do. To be, in the words of Doctor Bellingham, 'Firmly Guided'. It's not all the time, and not all the time in a specific situation either – it's not like I need to be sex slave all the time when sex comes up or anything. Just, the more overloaded I get, the more I need this outlet where I am not in control. Where I am told, firmly, but not abusively or arrogantly, what is going to happen. I dunno if I really buy it, but it would explain why I went with Greg in the first place. Not wishing to hurt you, but he is a very masculine man, very firm and very pushy. If you knew him, you'd know what I mean. He's like the ultimate Alpha male, even if he is extremely shallow and has the morals of a skunk.

From what I'm told, I just responded to that in way I wouldn't normally do so, because I was so stressed at the time. I was so in charge during the day, that when I wasn't, it was necessary for my personality to be fulfilled or something. If I'd not been so stressed, and not been far from you and home, in my own little bubble of the world, I'm told it's very unlikely I would have done what I did. Still, I was and I did and I need to fess up to that.

I don't know if that's any comfort to you. For me, I'm not sure I buy into it. I've never consciously felt the need for a man to tell me what to do in the past, but maybe it's something I didn't even know I needed on occasion. Where that leaves us, I don't know. Like I said, I know for a fact that I don't suddenly need a dominant alpha male ordering me around – but perhaps I need more analysis to work out exactly what I do need in those situations. Of course, on your part, you'd not even know that I needed it at the time, especially if I didn't. I don't know. My head is going round in circles and I don't know what to think. I so wish you were here to talk to. You'd know just what to say so I could make sense of it all.

So now I need to apologize. For everything. I tried to before, but I think you thought I was apologizing for getting caught. At the time I probably was. I wasn't even processing everything properly. I know I hurt you, but I was more worried about you being hurt than I was in being responsible for what I'd done. Now you aren't here, I understand even more deeply what I had, what I needed that you gave me – things I didn't even know I needed to the depths that have become very apparent.

I knew I loved you. I didn't always know why, but now I do. You are good person Dan, you need to know that. You did nothing wrong. You made me happy, your supported me in ways I wasn't even aware of, you made me laugh, you made me great food, you respected me and my choices, you made me wet with anticipation and you were (and are?) my partner, my lover, my friend and my husband. You were even more a victim of this than I am, even with the hurt I have now. I deserve it; you do not. You are a good man, a strong man and an understanding man. When you make love to me, you make me quiver. The sex with Greg was good, but it was the newness of it that made it exciting, not what he did to me or the size of his cock or what his body looked like or anything as dumb as that. No one will ever love me the way you do and I despair every day when I realize you may never come home, or if you do, you will not be able to love me again.

I apologize for everything. Particularly for the anal sex episode. You were completely right in what you said. I should have told you it was Greg's suggestion. I just couldn't at the time. I knew you were hurt and I knew I was responsible and I knew that if I told you that, it might send you over the edge, and I just couldn't risk that. They say the truth will set you free – but I just want to be in jail, with you in the same cell.

I'm so sorry for doing that to you. I will point out that I wouldn't give him that until you had it, but that's a poor excuse for what I did and why I did it.

I should say, it was good though. I'd do it again for you in a heartbeat. I don't regret doing it at all, and I hope you don't either. I just regret why.

Since we are talking total honesty, I need you to know I haven't seen Greg again since that night, apart from going to him to see if he might be able to find you when you were gone initially. There was no hint of anything sexual, I just was desperate. He didn't find you and there's been no contact since. You haven't asked but I feel that you should know, we were together four times in total, counting that night you found us. I don't know what you'll do with this information, or if you even want to know, but there it is.

He did get fired from the movie by the way. The next day after you saw us in fact. Although after I talked to them, reading between the lines, I think the production company were ok with that. His work with Justin was already done and he was just sucking up money. Fifty grand extra they didn't have to pay out was fine with them.

Before you left, you asked me how I would make this up to you. How I would rebuild the trust and faith we had. I've been thinking a lot about that and I honestly don't know what to do. The thing is, I cannot make you trust me. I cannot make you have faith in me. All I can do is keep going, not faltering and giving you no reason to doubt me. The trust and faith must come from you. I don't know if the damage I've done will even allow that – that's up to you I'm afraid and yet again I have to say sorry for putting you in that position. I just hope you love me enough to give me that chance. I'm not asking you to forgive me or forget it; I know there's no chance of that and nor should there be. I just want the chance to be the wife I should have been all along. That I was till I fucked it all up. It's up to you really.

Heinz the cat, wants to meet you. She sleeps on your pillow on your side of the bed. She needs to stop doing that, but without someone there, - without YOU there, I don't think she will. 

I'm not going to ask where you are or what you are doing. I just hope you are happy and having some calmness in your life. I miss you so much it hurts, and I want you to come home.

I love you Dan. You are the light of my life and right now, it's pretty dark around here.

Happy anniversary Dan – 9 years today when I made the best decision I ever made. I really really hope we make it to ten years.

Your wife.

June.

Dan sat back in the easy chair after reading that and sobbed. He cried and cried and screamed out Junes name.

After twenty minutes, he was cried out. He sat back up to the computer and hit Reply and typed one line of two sentences and hit send before he could stop himself.

"Happy anniversary, June. I love you too."

It was the last month, if Greg's estimate of what he could do for Dan was to be believed. Dan was now very capable of a full days exercise, both cardio and interval, and still having an evening to do things in, even if he did sleep like the dead at the end of it. His food intake was increasing and Greg was relaxing some of the rules on what he could not eat. He was even allowed a beer on occasion, although only what Greg laughingly had referred to as 'diet beer'. 

Dan was now down to a thirty-six inch waist. There were even hints of a six pack, although he had to suck in the gut a little for the shapes to show up. He had pectorals now; even if there was a layer of fat still on top that made it looked like dumplings on a curved plate.

Dan was curious about his relationship with Greg. Greg was both harsh taskmaster and also friend wannabe. He'd attempted to reach out to Dan more than once, but Dan still wasn't having it. He was starting to respect Greg's professional expertise – he was living proof of that – but he still saw Greg as a shallow man, interested in looking good and everything being visual. He understood exactly how shallow a person Greg really was, even if he was good at what he did. Beyond the work out ability and the chasing of trophy wives, Greg simply didn't have anything else in him. Greg was smooth and had great conversation lines, but he couldn't actually talk about anything, at least nothing important. The one thing that Dan had realized is that Greg was simply no competition for a man who had any ability to express an idea. He understood now why June was convinced it would never go anywhere with Greg; he just wasn't even remotely up to her speed, beyond the sex angle.

He also began to realize how tenuous Greg's business really was. It was ALL based on reputation, and how Greg's indiscretions with married women hadn't cost him most of that already was beyond Dan. He had come to realize that if he really wanted to ruin Greg, he could do it. It wouldn't be hard. A few public reveals of some of the women he'd pursued and conquered and some of the husbands would have no choice but to come after him. If he screwed up another major motion picture deal, his reputation would start to suffer big time. He'd already done it once; another one would seal the deal.

But knowing that, Dan didn't even start the motions. He just didn't care enough about Greg to do it all. He wanted to hurt him physically – Greg had that coming – but to destroy the gym and everyone who depended on Greg, knowing that Greg was simply no competition at all, what was the point?

That didn't mean he forgave June – far from it – just that he wasn't as out for revenge at this point as he had been at the start.

He'd gotten another email from June in response to his reply to her explanation, this time a short but simple one.

Dan. You have NO IDEA how much I needed to see you write those words. I'm literally walking on air right now.

Then the words 'I Love You' were repeated almost fifty times, and at the bottom was the simple question, Are you coming home?

Dan thought hard about whether to reply or not. In the end he did, with one line.

Not yet. Still have things to accomplish. I'll be back. We'll talk then.

Simple, succinct and hopefully enough for her to back off a bit.

In the mean time, Dan had to think a lot about how he felt about June, about what she'd done, about what she was trying to do now. The conversation transcript had helped a lot, but he still bore the internal scars of her betrayal. He didn't know if he trusted her totally – he knew he still loved her and his heart broke anew, because he still couldn't get the picture of her bent over with Greg's cock embedded in her out of his head. Every time he thought of it, he felt like a fat nerdy loser again. He couldn't carry on a relationship with June feeling that way – but he had no idea how to combat that. He just hoped time would help. He was more worried about his reaction to June than whether June loved him or not. 

And then the tale twisted yet again.

Dan was working on his latest idea one evening when Greg let himself into the apartment. It still pissed Dan off that Greg had a key and wasn't hesitant about using it, but he kept telling himself, it was Greg's apartment.

As Greg came in, he shut the laptop and looked up expectantly. Greg didn't say a word, just threw him a book. Dan caught it and looked at it and found it was Sex for Dummies.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Dan said, dryly.

"Read it," replied Greg, "all of it."

"Already have," said Dan, throwing the book back at Greg. As it happened, it was a newer edition of the one he'd read many years ago after his disaster with Amy.

"Then read it again. Think of it as a refresher course," shot back Greg, throwing the book back at Dan again.

Dan sighed. He didn't need this. "Look, I'm not a cheater, ok? I'm not that guy. I don't need this."

Greg laughed. "Of course you do. We all do Dan. None of us are all we can be in that department. It takes a woman to know what she wants. Look. I've spent a lot of cash on setting this up. You need to be at the address on the post it note in the book on Thursday night at eight. That gives you four days to go over the book again and brush up. Go see her. She knows her stuff. You don't have to do her, just talk to her. Get some other perspective. See what she has to say."

Dan just looked at Greg with out expression.

"Dan. I dunno how to get through to you. I'm trying to give you the best chance of keeping her. Do you not get that? She's done it once Dan, what makes you think she won't do it again? You owe it to her and you to be the best you can be. Give her no excuse. If you want to keep her, go do this. Don't think of it as cheating, although honestly you have both the moral and ethical right to do it. Think of it as preparation for a life together. Be all you can be. We've already completed a lot of this journey – go the whole way. I mean, look at you – I'm hearing things about some TV movie deal?"

Dan arched an eyebrow at Greg.

"Dude, you talk at the juice bar in my gym, I hear things. People talk. Either way, it sounds like something is finally moving for you. The training is coming along. Now, take the final step."

There was more silence from Dan. Greg gave up.

"Look, you have the details. Do yourself a favor. Be there. I honestly don't know how else I can try and help you. And frankly, you need it. I don't like how you've been looking at some of the towel girls in the gym. They are only seventeen you know."

Finally Dan responded. "Greg, you've already helped yourself to the one thing I held most precious. Now do me a favor, and please, just fuck off."

Greg hovered for a second, looking at Dan, then shook his head and left.

Dan sat there, trembling, holding the book. Eventually he put the book down on the coffee table, like it was about to explode.

The next day, Dan got a phone call from Caddy. 

"Dan, you there buddy? You sitting down? If not, sit down. I got news."

Dan nodded, and then realized that he was on the phone and said, "I'm here. Sitting as ordered."

"So, I just got off the phone with Hallmark. They are making it. They are making your movie. How cool is that?"

Dan didn't have any words and just squawked into the phone.

"I'll take that as a 'hell yeah' then. Ok, so it's get better. They liked all three of your endings, so they are shooting all three. This is a bit of a weird one, since the union specs on remuneration don't cover this. It's not three separate scripts, but it's not one script either. I've talked with the union rep and we've worked something out. Basically, if Hallmark agree, and they've got very little choice here since they are now already in pre-production, you are gonna clear another sixty K. And get a TV Movie credit. That's a seriously good start to a career dude."

"Arrrughle," said Dan, accurately expressing his sentiments at the moment.

"Yeah, my thoughts exactly. So accurately and poignantly expressed. No wonder you are writer," said Caddy. "Look, I gotta run. I'm meeting the guys from Hallmark in twenty and I need to get a coffee and get the game face on here. Call me tomorrow, ok? In the meantime, think about buying a new car. I've seen that piece of shit Nissan you drive around. It's going to fall apart if the duct tape comes off you know. Go get a convertible or something. And send me that stuff you've been working on. I want to see it. Ciao. Nelson, out."

And he was gone.

Dan just sat there, stunned. The question running through his mind was now one of cosmic balance. How was it that all of a sudden the stars were aligning for him professionally, when his personal life had turned to such dog shit? Was he only allowed to be happy in one area at a time? What, as the saying went, the fuck was going on?

Thursday came. Despite his own better judgment, Dan had picked up the book and browsed through it again – it was bathroom reading of the best and worst kind. There were a couple of new sections, all new illustrations and a couple of the sections had been expanded, but by and large, it was as he remembered.

It was good as a refresher though, and Dan did pick up a few new pointers and ideas.

But then came Thursday night. Greg had let him go early, only making him do forty lengths of the pool, telling him 'he'd need his energy that night' and smiling like and idiot at him. Dan had just shaken his head and climbed out of the pool to go into the steam room.

Then came the evening. Dan was sitting at his laptop, looking at Mustangs and building and rebuilding models on the Ford website, trying to decide what he might want. He kept looking at the book on the coffee table, with its yellow post it note inside.




MetaMorph Ch. 04



Eventually, at 6:30, he just picked up the book and looked at the address and put it into Google Maps, just to see where it was. It was a high-end apartment building in Westwood, right by the junction of the 405 and Santa Monica Boulevard. It would take him about...an hour to get there, at this time of night. Just enough time to shower and be dressed and out the door. 'Woah, where had that thought come from?' he wondered.

So many thoughts went through Dan's mind. He had heard what Greg had to say, and there was a grain of truth in what he'd said. He did want to be the best he could be. That was, after all, 50% of the point of the entire exercise, the other 50% being the opportunity to push his fist into Greg's face and hear his nose snap. 

But could he, should he, have sex with a hooker? That's what she was. High class escort or not, eventually it came down to her having sex for money, and that's what a hooker was. Dan had nothing against the sex trade; he understood that everyone had to make a living, there was a demand for it, and some women were very, very good at it. He understood the need for some guys, who weren't going to get it any other way and he understood that lots of these women provided a service, in shitty circumstances, hunted and preyed upon by pimps, and he honestly had nothing but respect for their choices and lives. But that was all from a distance. There was no question of him, Dan, actually using their services. That was for those who had no choice. He had June.

Or rather, he didn't. He realized that right now, he was squarely in the camp of those who he would expect to frequent such women. Also, thinking about being celibate for the past three months, he did know he needed it. He'd been jerking off almost nightly. But he also knew that it would make him no better than June if he did follow through. He would be cheating and that's not how he saw himself.

And then he picked up an Xbox 360 controller and tried to play some Bioshock and while he did it, he just got angry. He didn't know where it came from, but all the anger at June, at what she did, at how he hurt and how she just sat there, unscarred by the event, boiled over. And Dan got up, showered, put on a shirt and pants – the first time in weeks and they still didn't fit right – and left the apartment, with the address of...what was her name? Sandra? Programmed into his iPhone's mapping app.

He arrived dead on time, and then spent the next twenty minutes indulging in the popular LA past time of Hunt the Parking Space. Finding a roadside park around Westwood at this time of day was like finding rocking horse crap, and it took him a while to find one.

Eventually, he did and there he was, standing in front of the apartment door. She was on the 17th floor and there was a hell of a view out of the corridor windows. He just stood there outside the door, wondering if he even had the courage to knock. 

But he did. And she answered. The apartment behind her was darkened, and she stood in the doorway, in a slim Japanese robe that was floor length. She was nicely made up, slim, 5'8" or so, with delicate features, well applied lipstick, shoulder length hair that was bound at the back and a welcoming smile.

"Now, you must be Dan," she said, with a definite southern drawl that made the hair on Dan's arms stand up. "C'mon in. Don't stand out there catching flies now honey."

Dan shut his mouth conspicuously and followed her in. The apartment was spacious, well appointed and very colorful. Each wall was a different primary color, and all the walls held either shelves or wall hangings. It gave the room a lived in feeling without feeling cluttered. If Sandra wasn't an escort, she'd make a hell of an interior decorator, thought Dan as he was guided to a lazy boy, positioned in front of a large flat screen TV.

"Would you like a drink Dan? Ah have some just made mint julep if you care for that?" she asked, smiling the whole time.

Dan nodded dumbly and as she busied herself making it, he looked around. The furniture was mismatched, but all held a theme remarkably well. It was all relatively new and just well put together. Dan looked over where Sandra was busying herself at the small bar. He could see her ass jiggling around under the robe and wondered what it looked like naked.

Sandra handed him his drink in a tall glass and then took one herself and then sat down opposite Dan, on the couch. She took a long sip, looking at him the whole time, a small smile playing on her mouth.

Dan tried not to catch her eye and made a show of looking around.

"Nice place," he eventually ventured.

She laughed – a very musical sound. "Oh Dan, you can do better than that," she said. "Is the nasty hooker making your uncomfortable?"

Dan went bright red and just took a long drag on his drink.

"Oh c'mon honey. We both know why you are here. Greg has filled me in - in all sorts of ways. What a scumbag that man is. He may be pretty but he's got the morals of a cat on ecstasy, " she said, disgustedly.

Dan couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, there is that," he agreed.

"There you go sugar. Relax a little. Now Dan, you need to look on this as education. You didn't come here to cheat or get your rocks off. Sure, we might end up getting physical, but that's not what this is about. This about you learning new things – putting new tools in your box, and learning how to use the tools you already have in new and better ways ok? There is no romance here. There is no emotion, beyond two people getting it on. Ah've no doubt that pretty wife of yours said the same thing when you confronted her, no? Ah'll bet it doesn't sound any more ok to you now than it did then, does it?"

Dan gulped and nodded.

"Yes. Ah've no doubt it doesn't. See, honey, women are different from men. They can separate out sex and love way more than a man can. A woman can love sex with one man, and completely give her heart to another one. We are capable of that. Men, well, lovely creatures that they are, don't seem to be able to. Sex and love and intimacy are all tied together. Ah've watched women get banged senseless, loving it, while holding their husbands hands and looking into his eyes with love and gratitude, and they see nothing wrong with it. Men could never do that. We are just different creatures honey. We are wired differently."

Dan felt he had to say something. "So, what you are saying is that I'd be incapable of divorcing having sex with you with love? Is that right?"

"Well now honey, Ah think you'd do fine now I've pointed it out. Ah was just trying to get you to understand that when your wife says that her having sex with that shallow but lovely specimen of manhood, Greg Hamilton, is nothing to do with you and how she feels about you, she's telling you the god's honest truth, from her perspective."

"I didn't realize I was here for a psyche analysis session. I hadn't realized it was all my fault for not understanding," said Dan, coldly. He was starting to get a little pissed off.

"Oh sweety, don't get angry and posture so. It doesn't become you. Greg has been singing your praises – so balanced and unflappable he says. Please don't disappoint me by getting upset. Ah'm just trying to give you some background. Ah didn't mean to upset you." She smiled at Dan again, and made sure her posture was as non-threatening as she could.

"Ah know. Here you are in a known whores boudoir, wondering what you are doing here, and now she's analyzing your marriage and pointing out that women are wired differently. Not at all how you thought this evening would go eh?"

Dan couldn't help but nod at that, and he took another drink.

"Well look, my time is paid for. We can do whatever you want. Play canasta if you want. Ah'd rather like to help you, to be honest. Greg explained to me that you are rebuilding yourself, so if and when you go back to your wife, you are what you think you should be, is that right, sugar?"

Dan was about to nod and then said, "Well, not quite that simple."

"Oh yes, you want to clean Greg's clock as well. He mentioned that. Good luck with that honey – Ah know a few people who'd cheer if you managed that. But Ah can't help with that. Ah can only help with more bed related issues. Or, if you doing it right, kitchen, lounge, bathroom, office, car and wherever issues." Sandra gave her little laugh again at the end of that statement and it made Dan's pants twitch.

"Be clear Dan. Ah am not here to seduce you. Ah am not here to make you cheat emotionally in any way whatsoever. Ah am here to put you through your paces and judge what needs work. That's it. Our relationship will never be more than that, and Ah think you'll be happier for it. This is work, Dan, not play. Although it sure looks like it. Now, come here," said Sandra, putting down her drink. As she did, her robe fell open just a little. Dan could see two pert breasts peeking out, and one of Sandra's long smooth legs peeked out from where the robe joined. It was artfully done and Dan didn't even realize it was a set move.

Dan got up and realized he had the beginnings of an erection, all the more apparent since his pants didn't fit that well and as such tented out far more than regular jeans would have.

"Oh my," said Sandra, her accent coming on thick, "is that for me? Oh Ah think we'll have no problems in me getting the hands on experience Ah need to make a judgment."

Dan was not impressed with himself. Here he was, in a slut's apartment, with a rapidly expanding hardon, and he didn't even really want to be here. For a second, he empathized with June and her situation. But then, the moment he did, his erection wilted.

Sandra saw it and said, "Aww...never mind. Ah'll kiss it better." Then she looked up at Dan and saw the expression on his face and she said, seriously, "You thought of her, didn't you?"

Dan nodded miserably, still standing in front of her.

"It's ok honey. In fact, it tells me you are one of the decent ones. Most guys would just have jumped on me by now. The fact that you are finding it difficult to perform just means you really are in love with her. She is special to you, no matter what she's done. It's ok."

She patted the spot next to her on the couch and guided Dan to sit down next to her. She thought for a moment and said, "Dan, what a woman wants most is a Man, with a capital A. A man who loves her, who wants her, who is thinking of her, who wants her to be happy. You are such a man. Ah want to help you, so you can love her more. Make her even happier. Ah know that's a crappy excuse for getting it on, but that really is the root here. Now, Ah want you to close your eyes, and imagine her. Imagine her in front of you. Can you do that for me?"

Dan nodded and shut his eyes. He could see her. In his favorite peach dress, the one that had the plunging back. He breathed and he could smell her. He could hear her laugh. He could see her smile at him. He smiled himself.

"Good. I can see that you do. Now, Ah want you to imagine that Ah am her. Ah am June. Tell me what you'd do."

"I'd... I'd kiss her. Slowly at first, then hard, then down her neck, like she likes."

"Then do that Dan. Show me what you'd do." Sandra's voice was low and almost hypnotic. Dan opened his eyes, looked at Sandra, and did as he was bid. He kissed her and she kissed right back. Immediately he was struck by how soft Sandra's lips were compared to June. Kissing June was more like a competition, where as Sandra just melted into his lips.

Then he kissed down her neck and he felt her breathing increase.

After a couple of minutes of that, she pulled him off, and then took one of his hands and put it inside her robe, on her breast. "Feel that Dan? Feel that heartbeat? That's your doing. It should be twice as slow as that."

Dan looked down at his hand on her breast, so warm and then back up at Sandra.

"Lets go into the bedroom," she said.

They went.

Dan performed. He was required to wear a condom, which was fine. He wouldn't have done anything without one. It did become apparent that he was the active participant early on. Sandra didn't offer anything in the way of services; no blowjob or hand manipulation, – she just sat there, or lay there, - and took whatever he had to offer. He did everything he could think of, every trick, position and tempo. She was unbelievably wet, although he did wonder if there was some hooker trick to that – some kind of pre-lubrication. Either way though, he didn't much care. He performed. His new body allowed lots of positions previously un-attemptable and he was happy to try them.

He was pretty sure he made her cum at least three times, once when eating her, and twice while fucking her – once when he was manipulating her clit when doing her from behind, and once when he stuck his finger in her ass while she was sitting on his dick, bent over.

When they were done, he sat there, breathing heavily. He might have been doing endurance training, but the activity he'd just partaken in still got him winded. He was also sweating up a storm, and he was embarrassed to be wetting her sheets as the sweat dripped off him.

He rolled over to say something to Sandra, but she put her finger on his lips and just said, "shush. The sheets can be washed. Just lie here and recover."

They lay there for fifteen minutes while his heartbeat slowly went back to normal and his skin lost some of its heat.

Eventually Sandra got up and went into the bathroom. Dan heard a shower start up. Ten minutes later Sandra exited the bathroom and said, "All yours sugar. Go get clean. Then we talk."

Dan walked in to the bathroom, and as men have ever done since the beginning of time when in a strange bathroom, he looked around for towels, soap and something to wash his body with, investigating all the bottles of mysterious colored goo for what he needed.

After a hot shower, that felt So Good – the water pressure in the apartment was top notch – Dan got out, toweled off and got dressed again. He went back out into the main living room to find Sandra, now ensconced in a voluminous bathrobe.

She smiled at him and gestured for him to sit down. "Now, sugar, don't you feel better for that?" she said.

Dan was very confused internally. He was guilty, but not guilty at the same time. There was guilt but it wasn't over whelming. Sandra looked at him and the smile kept going.

"Confusing, aint it sugar? Guilty, but not guilty. Look, you needed that. Ah could tell. You have to look at what we did as though we just played racket ball. It meant as much, but both of us got to win."

Dan snorted at that. "Yeah, but it wasn't racket ball, was it? I just broke my wedding vows."

"Well, you can look at it that way. Ah think you'll find that contract was already broken and therefore invalid, but yes, it can be looked at that way. Ah prefer to think of it that you got what you needed out, and also gave me what Ah needed to be able to help you."

Dan looked away from her and said quietly, "Yeah, Don Juan, that's me."

"Oh Ah think you'd be surprised there honey," said Sandra. "So, do you want my verdict? The conclusions Ah've come to based on your performance?"

"Sure," said Dan, resignedly. It couldn't be worse than how he'd performed the first time he'd gotten into the ring for a sparring session. At least he'd sold a script now. He could cling to that.

"Overall Dan, you are pretty good. Definitely better than the average. You aren't in it just for your...ah, jollies. You get off, but you are considerate and you want the lady to have her moments too. You spend a lot of time on oral and just touching. You'll do whatever you can to get her off before attending to your own needs. You have an earnestness about you that is endearing. To be honest, Ah'm quite impressed. You care about position, you don't lean on the ladies hair and there is no slapping with the exception of a little ass slap, which is fine.

Your size is more than adequate - larger than normal but not so large as to be painful. Most women will never tell you this, but for most women, anything over eight inches is painful. Depending on the position, a larger penis will hit the entrance to the womb and that, let me tell you, hurts. Particularly if you are being pounded by a large man. You are fine though. Filling without being painful."

It was so strange to hear something so clinical about such an intimate act in a sweet southern accent, but Dan listened attentively. He'd already done the deed now; he needed to get something out of it.

"You have your tricks there too. The fingers in the ass and the clit grabbing come to mind. The oral was well done too.

So now the things that need work. The most basic one is that of control and tempo. See, you are good at the basic act Dan. You can position yourself appropriately, pound away, and so on, and it's good. But you aren't controlling the whole act. You are almost an island unto yourself. What you aren't doing is listening to what the woman's body is telling you about what is happening, what she likes and then controlling the situation with that in mind. What you are doing is good, no question, but it's not being done in response to her reactions. You are varying your technique, but sometimes what you are varying to is making it all worse for her. There's a fine line between brinkmanship on the part of her orgasm, and plain just not knowing what you are doing and frustrating her constantly by accident."

Dan frowned and looked down.

"Now don't look like that. Ah didn't mean to imply you were fumbling around in the dark there Dan. Your technique is good. We just need to refine its usage. You know how to use the spade all right. Now you have to know where and how hard to dig yes? The good thing about this is that we aren't going to be introducing a bunch of new tricks into your repository, which would undoubtedly generate questions that Ah'm sure you wouldn't want to answer – or perhaps you would. Ah guess it depends on how much you want to punish her. What we are going to do is refine use of what you already know. Oh, we might add a few new tricks here and there, but nothing that doesn't come out of the book that Greg gave you – if asked, you can point at the book and smile and say you read a lot."

Dan laughed at that. Then frowned again, as he realized he was being asked to lie again. He'd have to think about that later.

"Ah think, Dan, that you have the makings of a first class lover. We need to tweak a few things, and get you listening to her body, and you'll be on your way. Now, it's late and you need to go because Ah need to sleep. Ah have a long day tomorrow with dreary clients from Germany who think the height of Americana is to see the Hollywood sign. Ah want you to go read a couple of book passages for me, and start thinking about reading body language. Remember though, every woman is different. Now, off you go. Sleep well and Ah'll see you at the same time next week, ok?"

Sandra stood up and gesture for Dan to go. He got up and walked to the door, where she gave him a small piece of paper. "One thing before you go. Ah've sampled both of you and let me be clear on this. Your wife wasn't getting any superior loving from Greg. Believe me when Ah tell you that. Trust me when Ah tell you Ah have the experience to tell, and if she loves you, then she loves what you do for her. Greg was just...different. But in no universe is he better in bed. At all. Ah'd say you have him beat there, and that's with no coaching at all. Know that Dan. Now, Greg has these books. He can lend them to you. Read the passages marked and think about how you'd use that information. Go and drive safe Dan."

And so Dan was left standing outside the door of her apartment, wondering what the hell he'd just done and also wondering what else he had to learn.



MetaMorph Ch. 05



Four days later and Dan was standing in front of the Ford dealership in Santa Monica avenue, coincidentally just a few blocks from Sandra's apartment. Caddy was standing next to him, and the two of them were standing in front of a row of brand new Mustangs.

Caddy had a cigar in his mouth and he kept blowing smoke rings and saying things like "Oh boy. You sure about this? I was thinking a nice BMW or Mercedes or something?"

Dan ignored him for the most part, just staring at the cars. 

Eventually they were approached by a salesman, one Jules Turner. He was a dark shade of black – the kind that is truly black and not just brown. He was dressed in a very expensive suit and when she smiled, his white teeth truly shone.

"Can I interest you gentlemen in a little test drive? I've been noticing you admiring these fine automobiles." His patter was straight out of 1963 and for some reason, he more than got away with it. As a salesman, Jules was The Man.

Dan glanced at him and then went back to looking at the cars.

Caddy turned and looked at Jules and said, "My friend here thinks he wants one of these. I'm not entirely sure why. I think he has a small dick or something."

Jules smiled back to show there was no hard feelings and replied, "Oh, I'm sure that's not true. I suspect that the man here just wants those extra couple of inches, to take him to a complete foot, no doubt!"

Both Caddy and Dan couldn't help but laugh at that, and the ice was well and truly broken.

"I'm Jules. How can I help you fine gentleman today?"

Dan pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and looked it over, and then, with the voice of one reading something that they don't understand, he said, "Do you have a...um.. a Rosch Stage two convertible GT Mustang, with manual gearbox and six speed in stock?"

Jules smiled a wide smile and said, "Oh I'm sure we do. And it's pronounced Rousch. With a U."

"Can I drive it, please?" said Dan. 

"Well of course you can young sir. Of course you can."

They picked out a blue convertible (the electric blue whose paint name Dan came to find out was called 'Impact Blue', to which he took Caddy aside and said, "Seriously? 'Impact blue'? For a car? Who the fuck names these things?") with the divided white strip down the middle. The car came with side air intakes, a hood with the extra air intake, and it generally looked like something Luke Skywalker should be driving.

When Dan clapped eyes on it, he looked at Jules and said, "Yeah, I think that might take me to sixteen inches."

They went out for a drive, with Caddy in the back. Caddy later swore that he'd never drive in a car driven by Dan again, since they basically took the 405 at ninety miles an hour, which in pre-rush hour traffic is some feat.

Eventually they arrived back in the car dealership, and everyone made excuses to hit the bathroom, except Dan who just asked for bottled water.

Then, after some small talk, Dan asked exactly how much the car was, to drive away right there. Everyone was talking with studied ease and nonchalance, as though they were talking about going to a movie.

"So, to drive that out the door, we are talking fifty seven K my good sir," said Jules, dismissively, like that was no big deal.

Caddy just sat there, looking out the window and at the hottie dealership interns running around in their tight skirts.

Dan looked back and said, "You know, if I were to put fifty thousand dollars down on the table, right now, I wonder if I might pick up those keys and go for a drive."

Jules smiled back. "Oh, I doubt it. But I can go ask for you."

"Why don't you do that, Jules. Just for information's sake, of course."

Jules got up and went to see the manager, in the time-honored fashion of every car sales men the world over. He returned five minutes later and just sat down and stared at Dan and said, "In a word, No."

Dan looked back, looked at Caddy and nodded and the two rose to leave.

"However," continued Jules, and the two men stopped their motion, "If you were to put fifty four thousand on the table, there's a very good chance of that happening."

Dan sat back down, leant back and took in the surrounding scene, taking his time.

"I think that might be a touch high. Perhaps fifty two thousand might make its way here?" he said, looking at his fingernails.

There was silence as Jules pulled out his phone and glanced at it. Eventually he replied, "I suspect that probably won't be enough. Perhaps if another thousand were to join it, that would be sufficient."

Dan pursed his lips and pouted for a second.

"Fine. Deal." He then reached into his pocket of his windbreaker and brought out a wad of cash, all hundreds. He peeled off a few thousand and then threw the rest of the bundle at Jules, who caught it, and said, "Keys?"

Literally twenty minutes later, Dan was standing in front of the car, keys in hand trying not to jump around and, in the parlance of his childhood, 'be cool'. Caddy was standing next to him saying, "You sure about this?"

Dan looked at him and said, "Caddy, a car should say something about the man driving it. New body, new car, lots of oomph. Trust me. It sounds great and it goes like shit off a shovel and it looks, well, muscly. This is my car."

Caddy nodded and said, "Well, as long as you are happy and as long as I don't have to drive in it with you. How do you know about this stuff anyway? You didn't strike me as someone into cars? Not driving that piece of crap Nissan?"

Dan laughed and said, "No, it's a writer friend of mine. A guy named StangStar. I know him as StangStar06. He and I are on a forum together. What that guy doesn't know about Mustangs isn't worth knowing. I just emailed him and asked him what I should be driving. He told me what to look for."

Caddy laughed. "I should have known. The uber nerd has friends everywhere. Well, it is a lovely car. You have fun now. Don't die on the way home. And don't kill anyone else, either."

Dan just nodded absently as Caddy left to go find his Mercedes, just staring at the car. 

Eventually he opened the door, put down the hood and drove off, deliberately keeping it in a lower gear than it should be, just so the engine roared.

A few days later, and Dan was back at Sandra's apartment. This time he was even more nervous. He'd been reviewing the passages she'd given him to look over. He'd had to knock on Greg's door to ask to borrow the specific books, and was given them with a knowing smirk from Greg. One more thing to smack his face for when the time came. Although Dan couldn't help but say, "Good thing you had these books Greg. They must be really helpful to you." And that did wipe the smile off Greg's face.

Dan knocked on the door and there she was, in all her glory. This time she was in a wrap dress, with a mid thigh slit.

"Well hello sugar. How are you doin'?" she asked, pouting seductively. "C'mon in. Ah was just about to make myself a Manhattan, you want one?"

Dan nodded and entered her apartment. He sat down on the easy chair, where he'd been last time and she spoke while she busied herself at the bar.

"Ah wasn't sure you'd even show, after last time. Ah guess you'd had some second thoughts?"

Dan replied, "Some. I thought about what you said. This isn't about lust or jollies, this is about education. If June can separate sex and love, I can too."

Sandra stopped cutting up an orange and looked around at him and said, "Well, aren't you just a clever old peach? About time you came around. Ah'm sure your wife wouldn't necessarily agree, but Ah think we can both agree that she's lost that particular high ground. Plus, Ah'm sure she'll enjoy bein' the recipient of some of the lessons here. You want sugar in yours?"

Dan nodded and moments later was handed a drink. He took a sip. It was smooth. His first Manhattan.

"Ok, so did you read up?"

"Yes, Miss Daisy," replied Dan.

Sandra's eyes opened wide and for a second Dan saw true fury, which was instantly replaced by a mellow look.

"Well, aren't you just a card, now. Just for that, Ah think we'll go directly to the lesson. Here's what Ah challenge you. You need to make me cum. With one finger. No more. One finger can be used at any time. You can switch fingers, but only one can be used at a time. Think you can do that?"

Dan realized he'd touched a nerve – even hookers can have buttons. He decided silence was the better part of valor.

He put down his drink and nodded and said, "I can try to do that."

"Don't try, sugar. Make it happen. It's all in your hands, if you'll pardon the expression."

The two of them went to the bedroom, and Dan did his damndest.

The passages he'd been reading were about reading emotional content from body language. They were describing a woman's reactions to arousal, what to look for, and what you can do to either dampen or accelerator that situation. The test before him was a hard one. No woman would cum from doing one thing to her with one finger, you had to swap around and do different things, and you had to know when.

Dan failed. He came close a few times, and he felt he was starting to read her right and do the right things when Sandra glanced at the clock on her bedside table and sat up and said, "Times up. Next time, cowboy."

Dan wasn't thrilled. He knew she'd been pissed right from the word go and he had no chance because of that. Despite that, he knew if he'd had thirty more minutes, he'd have gotten her there.

Sandra got up and gestured for Dan to follow. She took him right to the door, and right before opening it, she said, "Never mind sugar. Next time. Now, Ah need you to read up on cunnilingus. We need to go over that for next time. There's a good book Ah'm going to recommend."

She opened the door and Dan stuck his foot against it and didn't let it open.

"That was an unfair test. And you know. I'm sure glad that you being pissed off was worth more than what Greg paid you for. Hell, you got both. What do you care?"

Sandra just looked at him.

"You know exactly what I mean Miss Daisy. Yeah, there it is. I made a joke lady. Just a joke. I have no idea what your issues are, but I won't be back if all you are going to do is waste my time because you are pissed off about a joke that means nothing to anyone."

Dan surprised himself by making the statement. He was just mad and wasn't about to let a glorified hooker make him doubt himself.

"Well now. Aren't you just the manly man now. You c'mon back next week and prove me wrong."

"That's it?"

Sandra looked right at him and said, with almost no trace of her southern accent, "The whole point of the exercise was for you to read the body language of the person you were with to give her what she needed. I think you failed outright there, don't you? If I was pissed, why the hell didn't you do something about that instead of fighting a loosing battle in the first place? Good sex isn't just about sensation. It's about circumstance and mental attitude. Read the books again. I'll see you next week." And she yanked the door open and without ceremony, pushed him out.

They were now into what was the last two weeks, assuming Greg's prediction was accurate. Dan was down to two hundred and twelve pounds. He was a size thirty-four waist and could now bench-press almost three hundred pounds. His arms looked like something out of Men's weekly magazine, and he felt fantastic. 

His boxing was right on the money, and he could floor the sparring partners two times out of four – they treated him with respect now and he knew it.

He knew his time here was coming to an end, and he had to consider what he was going to do when he got home – when he saw June again. He still wasn't sure how he felt – whether the hurt outweighed the need for her. One thing was for sure though; his rage at Greg hadn't gone away. It was still there, white hot at his core. And it would not be denied.

During his last two weeks, Dan went out and did a few things for himself. He ordered some particular items, them being made especially for him. He bought some actual clothes, rather than just tracksuits, since how he had idea of his measurements. He went looking for another gym to go to, because if things went to plan, he sure wouldn't be welcome here any more.

He had also been looking over the PI reports – they weren't telling him anything drastic about June's behaviors. She had gone out with friends for dinner and drinks – Megan being one of them – but their operative couldn't get close enough to overhear anything this time. But there was a report of their table being approached more than once and of June shutting down any conversation instantly, much to Megan's visual annoyance. June had left before ten and that was her evening out.

In the second to last week, two things of major importance happened. The first was yet another call from Caddy, asking Dan to drop by his office. There was a timbre in is voice of restrained exuberance, and since Dan was in the middle of using free weights at the time, he didn't stop to chat – just told Caddy he'd be there in a couple of hours.

The other was an email from Sandra. Dan found that interesting, since he'd never given his email address to Sandra. Or Greg either, for that matter, which is where she must have got it from. It made Dan wonder what else Greg knew about him.

The email read – 

Dan.

I'm sorry about last week. I think you caught me at a bad time. The Miss Daisy reference has particular significance for me, and indirectly is one of the reasons I do what I do. The lesson was valid, but I think it probably could have been communicated better and for that, I am truly sorry.

Please come on Thursday. We only have two more sessions and there's more to impart to you.

Sandy.

Dan read it twice and was left confused about what he really ought to do. He'd bought and read the book she recommended – he wasn't about to ask Greg again – and found it helpful but mostly going on and on about how good the author thought he was at pussy eating, and a bit light on actual details and tips. But still, he'd read it and hoped he'd absorbed some of the lessons. He honestly wasn't planning on returning, both to salve his conscience and also because he didn't particularly need another evening of being set a task he couldn't achieve because someone else was upset.

But right now, he had a meeting to get to. He grabbed some printouts and emailed Caddy some files and then left, taking his new ride out and enjoying the sensation of driving with the top down.

He arrived twenty minutes early and didn't have to find a park, since the building where Caddy's agency was located had it's own parking structure.

He sat in the lobby of the bustling agency, watching famous people walk back and forth and spent ten minutes in a conversation with Ryan Reynolds, who was waiting to talk to his own agent. That was surreal. He'd have to tell June about that. Ryan Reynolds was on her Free Pass list.

Eventually Caddy himself came to find Dan, looking through a sheaf of documents as he did so.

"Dan, I'm just reading your treatment and bible. This shit is hot dude. I LOVE it."

Dan blushed, as they walked through the building to Caddy's office.

"Umm...it's just an idea I was playing with..."

"This is great dude. A weekly docudrama set in a gym? Why has no one done this before?"

Dan replied, "The closest I could find was some UK based comedy, staring the guy from Red Dwarf? The asshole guy? It ran for a few years."

They entered Caddy's office, complete with its astounding view of downtown LA.

"So look, lets talk about this new thing in a second. Firstly, news on Metamorph. Hallmark is renaming it. Metamorph is a bit too sci-fi for the Hallmark viewership I'm afraid. But you knew that, so I don't think that's really an issue. But, what is astounding is that they've shot all three endings, like I told you. The production crew there were planning on deciding which one to use in the edit phase. However, they can't do it. So they've decided to do something really bold and new. They are showing your movie three times. Once on Sunday, once on Tuesday and once on Friday, all on the same week. And each time, with a different ending. And what's more, they aren't going to tell anyone they are doing this, until after it's broadcast. What do you think of that buddy? This is television history here. No one has ever done this before."

Caddy was smiling so hard, his face was going to crack.

Dan just sat there, frozen, not knowing what to feel. The one overwhelming thought he had was, 'I wish I could tell June. She'd freak.'

"That's pretty cool," he stumbled out.

"'Pretty cool'?" mimicked Caddy, unmercifully. "Christ, it's a good thing you can write, cos as a public inspirational speaker, you blow buddy. Look, this is a big deal. Hallmark is going to make a huge deal out of this. If it's at all successful, they are talking about selling this to Starz. You are gonna get residuals on the first week of your movie is being shown. We've never seen that before here. All kinds of firsts going on here. Get a little excited, won't you??"

Dan said, "Ok. It's VERY cool."

Caddy just looked at him for a moment, eyeballing him to see if he was being mocked.

"Ok, so there's that. Now lets talk about this Gym thing. Why did you wait so long to let me have this?"

Dan shifted his seat, and wordlessly Caddy got up and walked to a small fridge, pulled out a bottled water and handed it to his friend.

"Well, there are issues here. I don't think this is really a network show. Or even a cable show, necessarily."

"Oh? Why not?" asked Caddy.

"Well, it's not about ensemble cast. Sure, there is an ensemble cast here, but every episode is a character dive on a particular member of the gym. The ensemble cast is there purely as glue. Sure, there are some stories about them, but for the most part, it's about the special guests each week. You know what networks are like Caddy. They'll run 4 episodes, look at the audience feedback numbers and then tell us that the show has to revolve around which ever member of the ensemble cast the audience likes the most. This isn't like that."

Caddy nodded, flipping through some more of the papers strewn over his desk. "Probably. What's the problem with that? Lots of successful shows do that."

"Yeah, but not this. Look, think about The Twilight Zone. Was that show about Rod Sterling, or was it about the Story of the week? Rod Sterling was necessary as the narrator, but he wasn't what the show was about, yeah? That's what this is. The ensemble cast is glue, background, not principles. I just don't think that a modern network would go for this. I was thinking maybe something like HBO or Netflix, even? They are in the standalone show game now, right? Can we talk to them?"

Caddy looked over a sheet of paper at Dan and said, "I guess. I still think we should talk to the networks. Give them the chance to pass. There are some pretty progressive people over at NBC right now..."

Dan shrugged and said, "Sure Caddy. Whatever you think."

"You know, it strikes me that if you really wanted to do this right, you need to start your own production company. Get with a producer with proven ability and present this that way. Rather than selling it to HBO or whatever, do it your self and then sell it to them. That way you retain control."

There was a pregnant silence.

"Of course that means you need to find a producer to work with. Someone who is going to be on your side, who is on your wavelength and who'll buy into your concept. I wonder if you know anyone like that?"

Dan just stared at the floor.

Caddy sighed and threw the papers down on the table and there was a pregnant pause. Dan knew exactly what Caddy wanted to talk about and he also knew Caddy didn't know how to start the conversation.




MetaMorph Ch. 05



"Dan, you know I'm your friend. I'm...concerned. Your work is great, but you've got this fucking great void hanging over you. Until you resolve things with June, I'm a little worried about going down a path that you may not stick with. Where's your mind at, buddy? Where is this going?"

Dan looked unhappy. "I honestly don't know Caddy. One minute I am dying because I can't hold her, the next I am raging because of what she did with no regard for me. I can't trust her but I desperately want to. I know she is hurting because of what she did to me, to us, but it's because of that that I can't just put my arms around her. She betrayed me, Caddy. She was all I had, and she did it anyway, for whatever fucked up reasons she had."

And suddenly it came out. Dan started sobbing and Caddy immediately came over to Dan, stopping to close his office door first.

Caddy wrapped his arms around his friend and just held him while he sobbed. "How could she do that to me? How? What did I do? Why am I paying for it?" Dan asked the world.

"There there Buddy," said Caddy, not knowing what else to say. "I don't think she meant to do it to you Dan. I think she did it for her and you are just collateral."

They sat there for two minutes, Dan's heaving slowing and Caddy just holding his friend.

Eventually, Dan pushed Caddy off him, and looked into Caddy's earnest face, full of concern, and suddenly he just started giggling. Caddy smiled broadly back at him, and Dan started laughing. After a moment, Caddy joined in. The two of them laughed for the next minutes, before slowly recovering.

Caddy went back to sit down in his desk and pulled out a bottle of vodka, grabbed two shot glasses from the same draw and poured two shots. "Good. Right, glad we got that out of the way," he said. "Here's to the future, without any crying in it, ok? I already have kids, I don't need another one. We are friends, but I am NOT tucking you in at night."

Dan went to Sandra's place on Thursday. She apologized again to him on opening the door, and that night, he spent most of the night with his face wedged firmly between her thighs. The night was interesting for Dan because unlike previous evenings, this time Sandra guided him. She gave him pointers, stressed that every woman was different and pointed out her own reactions to what he was doing. Dan learned about back arches, the type and quality of moans, about skin temperature, pulse rates, and how if a woman uses her fingers on herself while he was actively doing things to her, it meant one of two things; either she was bored and getting herself off, or she was loosing control of her own desires and helping herself get off unconsciously. The former was death for the dedicated cocksman, but the latter just meant you were stampeding in the right direction.

Dan learned about deft touches, about breathing on a vagina instead of rushing straight to the clitoris, and he learned that there were as many ways to use a tongue as there were different punches to use in a boxing ring.

By the end of the night, Dan looked like he'd had whipped cream applied to his face and had both tongue and jaw ache, and Sandra had cum at least four times. He also had scratches under the hair at the back of his head where she'd grabbed his face and pushed him into her pussy during one very violent climax.

The one thing that surprised Dan was that she kissed him, hard, once he was done. She even licked his face. He pulled back, and bit surprised and she smiled at him and said, "Darlin', this is the least Ah can do. That was GREAT. You are learning."

She showed him out after letting him wash his face and wash his mouth out and then giving him a bottle of diet coke. "Come back next week, final exam. Ah shall expect A+ yah here? So study up!"

And then it was the last week. The last week Dan didn't hear from Caddy. He called twice but was told that Caddy was out of the office and he'd get back to him. He shrugged and went back to the gym.

By now, Dan was free of almost all fat. There was still a tiny bit of a spare tire, but it was only visible from certain postures. He was a true thirty-four inch waist. He looked pretty damn good and he'd even sprung for a body waxing, something he'd never do again once he'd had it done, since it hurt So Much. It was nice to be smooth, and he knew he looked good, but he also knew that you had to keep it up and there was no way he was going through that amount of pain again. How women do Brazilian waxes he had no idea. The little oriental woman who was recommended to him cackled every time she ripped off another piece of what looked like fly paper and it was all Dan could do not to jump off the couch and clock her.

Dan had his last appointment with Sandra. This time she was wearing a short black cocktail dress and high heels and a black choker, with dark makeup and bright red lipstick when she opened the door.

She literally said nothing, arched and eyebrow at him and went inside. Dan followed, closing the door.

"Screwdriver?" she asked. Dan nodded. The apartment somehow seemed smaller and he didn't know why.

"So, last session," said Sandra, as she handed him the drink. "Nervous?"

Dan frowned, "Should I be?"

"No, no reason. Just idly wondering. So. How do you feel about all you've been through?" Sandra asked.

"What, you mean coming here?" replied Dan.

"Well, not just that. I mean the whole journey. It's been a heavy four months from what I understand?"

Dan sat there, looking at his drink, thinking both about the past months and also that Sandra seemed to be very well informed, as well as very nosey.

Sandra smiled at him. "Nosey broad eh?" she said. "Dan, it might interest you to know that Ah have a phD in psychiatry. Ah just do the sex thing because, well, Ah like sex. Ah might as well get paid for it. But don't be fooled. A good escort is part sex doll and part bartender. She listens and says the things the man needs to hear just as much as she makes him squirm. A good escort feeds a man's ego as much as she milks his cock. And Ah'm very good at both – you've never been on the receiving end of a real charm offensive from me, and be thankful for it. If you had, what little of your vows you take seriously would be done. You have no idea of what Ah'm capable of, young man. You also have no idea how much Greg is paying me for these services."

Dan choked on his drink. Sandra smiled broadly at him. Cleverly, Dan said, "ummm...well, I guess I dodged a bullet there."

Sandra licked her lips slowly, savoring it. Dan hastily took another swig of his drink and found he'd already finished it.

"So, Tiger, are you ready for the final exam? Ah want to see if you can read my body like we talked about?"

Dan nodded, dumbly, as Sandra stood up. She came over to him and took his hand and pulled him up. 

"Right there studly. From now on, you are in the driving seat. Make me squirm, sugar."

And something went off inside Dan. He literally just grabbed Sandra and pushed her against the wall, kissing her hard, and then pinning her to the wall. One hand went into her panties, roughly, and he stuck his fingers inside her with no preamble. She was wet. Very wet.

He kissed her neck and felt her body move and arch into him. She moaned softly and said, "Good start stud."

And with that, Dan stepped back away from her, examining her. She was flush, her neck red, her breathing heavy and eyes dilated.

Dan smiled and said, "I graduate. I don't need to fuck you to know I could and that you want it. Night Sandra. Thanks for giving me the confidence and everything."

Sandra just breathed heavily and said nothing as Dan walked out of the room and the apartment.

Four days later, and it was Monday. Dan got up early, took a shower and then took The Suit down. He took a deep breath and then tried it on. It fit. Barely, but it fit. His arms were actually larger than Greg's and as such the suit jacket was slightly tight if he bulged his biceps. But otherwise, it was a perfect fit, even on the neck. He spent an hour just sitting in it and looking at himself in the mirror.

No double chin. Hair cut. Straight Jaw. Perfect body trim, and with the shirt unbuttoned, his gleaming and smooth pectorals just peaked out. He tried the suit with a skin tight T-shirt and found it worked just was well with that, which was good because he'd bought three of them in different colors.

He let himself out of the apartment and knocked heavily on Greg's door as he passed and then went down to the gym, which was still deserted. He grabbed a couple of practice gloves and put them on as he climbed into the ring.

Greg arrived ten minutes later, looking recently woken. He was going from room to room, looking for Dan. When he saw him, in The Suit, wearing gloves and leaning against the ropes of the ring, watching for him, he smiled and pushed open the door to the boxing room.

"Aren't we full of ourselves today? You look good. The suit works on you."

Dan tilted his head and said, "I need to say thanks for this. I could never have done this alone. Your ability to train is to be commended. But be that as it may, you ready for some lessons in politeness and etiquette? Because you fucking need them."

Greg smiled even more broadly. "Steady Dan. Remember, everything you know I taught you. But I may not have taught you everything I know."

"Are you gonna talk or are you gonna get kitted up? I've been waiting for this."

Greg's smile flickered for a second when he looked into Dan's eyes. There was something there, or rather, something not there, that was a bit un-nerving. Greg knew he could take Dan – Dan would do some damage since the boy did have skills, but in the end he knew his experience would take him. And he suspected Dan knew this too, and he wasn't going to let that stop him. For the first time Greg started to worry that he might have to hurt Dan to stop him, which was not part of the plan. Oh well, he was here now. Time to give the poor schmuck his shot.

They both went into the changing room. Dan got out of the suit and into shorts, as did Greg. Both taped each other's hands, and Dan pulled on some new boots and gloves, while Greg did the same.

Both put on cups under their shorts and pulled on mouth guards. For only the third time, Dan climbed into the ring with no protective headgear, as did Greg.

Inside the ring, they faced each other. Greg gestured at Dan's sparkling new gloves and gave him a query look. "New kit Greg. In honor of kicking your ass. Bright white, so the blood shows up."

Greg snorted, said, "You ready?"

Dan nodded and they both stepped forward, guard up.

It was the end of the working day and June came home tired and a little frustrated. She had been stuck in script re-write meetings and the script supervisor just had no idea of how much his changes were going to cost production. June hated to say No, but she'd had to and it had not gone well. In the end she'd been forced to hand the script supervisor the episode budget spreadsheet and gone over it with him so he understood there was no extra cash for the two hundred extra's he wanted to use for a fifteen second shot.

When she pulled into the outside parking lot where her – their – apartment was, she found a big flashy convertible blue Ford Mustang sitting in Dan's spot. 'He'd be pissed if he was here,' she thought, as she struggled out of her white BMW 3 series, trying not to ding the door. 'Well, first he'd spooge over it, then he'd be pissed.' She mentally corrected herself.

She walked up to the apartment and got her keys out, thinking about how she was going to have to talk to the exec producers about the scriptwriter, and then thinking about what to have for dinner. She unlocked the front door and walked in, dropping her bag and keys on the kitchen counter. Normally Heinz the cat would have run out to greet her, meowing loudly to indicate displeasure at being left alone. Not today though.

June knew he'd be in the bedroom and walked towards it calling, "Heinz, come on out..." in that sing song voice people use to summon wayward pets. She went into the bedroom and didn't even notice the figure sitting in the easy chair in the corner. It was late in the day and because of the way the apartment was situated, and the fact that outside there was a large tree, but that corner never got much light. It was one of the reasons why Dan would never put plants there.

Two minutes later, June came out of the bedroom, holding Heinz in one hand and an empty wine glass she'd left in the bedroom. As she exited the door, she suddenly saw the figure sitting in the easy chair and in shock, she dropped the wine glass, shattering it on the hard wood floor.

"Please..." she said, with a distinct tremor in her voice, "take whatever you want. I don't have anything. Don't hurt..."

The figure interrupted her and said softly, "June."

June was stunned. It was Dan. But it wasn't Dan. It was someone who looked like Dan but was slim, and looked great. His hair was cropped short and he was wearing a tailored suit that, frankly, looked like a million dollars. The contours of his body were visible and he was wearing a tight body hugging T-shirt underneath the suit jacket. Dan stood up in a fluid motion, and she saw even more how tight he looked. He smiled at her and she noticed he had a bruise on one cheek, a fat lip that had only recently stopped bleeding, and he had a red scratch down the side of his face.

"DAN!" she said... hesitating for a moment until she saw the smile. Then she dropped Heinz and dashed forward, avoiding the broken glass. She just grabbed him and with both arms and buried herself in his body.

For Dan, the moment was electric. He had missed this so desperately. His wife. And his heart was about to explode it was beating so hard.

June pulled her head off Dan's body and looked at his face. She had a million questions and they all came tumbling out at once. "What happened to your face? What happened? Where have you been? You look...fantastic Dan. Just wow. Are staying? Tell me you are staying. Did I tell you I love you?"

Between questions, she smothered his face with kisses.

Dan tried to answer a few of them, but was constantly interrupted with her kisses and being peppered with question.

In the end he disengaged from June and held her at arm's length and ruthlessly interrupted her stream of consciousness. "June," he said firmly, "Shut up. I will answer all of your questions, but first, I need to ask you something."

June just nodded, wordlessly, both elated he was home and full of trepidation over what he might ask.

"Do you know what 'reclamation sex' is?"

June shook her head. That was an unexpected question.

"It's where a man takes back what is his. Now come here." Dan gathered June up in his arms again and kissed her. Hard. June just melted. Her man was home and he was HOT and he wanted her. She just gave her self completely and fully to this man she loved so much.

After the kiss, Dan pushed her away, so he could look at her. Flushed, breathing hard, heart beating hard, eyes wife and dilated. Perfect.

"Come with me," he said, brooking no argument, and he took her hand and led her into the bedroom, avoiding the glass on the floor.

He made her disrobe him, slowly, kissing her after she took each item from him. When she was done, he did the same to her.

And then they made love, had sex and just fucked, all at the same time. Dan was careful – he only did the things he always did, but this time he listened to Junes body – how she reacted, and he varied what he did based on that. And she responded – she absolutely responded. She was lost in what he did to her. Dan played her like a piano, fingers in the right places when they needed to be, stroking, teasing and bringing her to the brink, then letting her down again. Eventually he made her cum, with her sitting on him. He absolutely controlled her tempo and rhythm – the new strength in his arms allowing him to basically move her however he wanted. She came sitting on top, looking down at him, running her arms over his chest. He saw it coming, saw her eyes flutter and roll and he let it rip.

She jerked, shook and then collapsed on him, breathing hard.

"That was...I don't even know what to say," she said, through taking deep breaths.

Dan chuckled. "We aren't even remotely done yet." June's eyes snapped open and she pushed her head off to look at him.

"Again?" she said, shocked.

"Hell yeah. I haven't got my jollies yet, and we've barely begun."

"Who are you, and what did you do with my Husband?" she said, wonderingly.

"I...er...I went to the gym. A lot."

"I'll say," she replied, tracing a finger on one of his biceps. "Dan, I knew I said I wouldn't ask, but, what happened? What happened to your face?"

Dan smiled a lopsided smile and said, "Someone getting what was coming to them. You should see the other guy."

June put two and two together and came up with four. "Greg?" she asked, hesitantly.

Dan nodded. "I've been in training for the past four months. To get my shot, mano el mano. Today was the day."

June put her head back down on Dan's chest. "I won't ask what state he's in."

Dan chuckled and June could feel his muscles ripple as he did so. It was very erotic.

"Oh, he's not going to be chasing any married women for a while, that's for sure."

"You really took him? I mean, he's been training in boxing for years? Four months and you took him? I love you Dan and I believe in you, but that sounds...far fetched?" June said.

Dan laughed again. "Oh, I cheated. No question. New gloves with weights sown in, and new boots with steel toecaps. Once he was down, it didn't matter if he had a cup on or not. A few belts from steel toecaps and it split. And then I stomped all over his junk. I'm going to have the gloves mounted. They are still red with his blood. I may be a nerd, but I'm not a stupid one. That motherfucker was goin' down."

"So... are we gonna talk about what happened?" said June, a little fearfully. She didn't want to but she knew they must.

"Yes, but not yet. I just want to be happy I am home and with you first. Plus, I have some news."

June wasn't letting go and said so. "Well, whatever it is, you'll have to tell me while I stay here because I am never leaving you or this bed again."

"Except to go potty I hope..?" replied Dan, with a smile.

"Oh, I don't know...Do you think we should go in for watersports?" answered June, with a wicked voice.

"Don't be gross. I sold a script."

"Wait WHAT?" said June. That news prompted her to get up and look down at her husband who was grinning broadly. "You SOLD one? What...who...I need to know, dammit!"

"I have an agent now. Caddy Nelson over at Miller Gold. Do you know him?"

"No, but that doesn't mean anything. You know this town is awash with agents."

"You'd like him. He's as sarcastic as you are."

June slapped Dan's chest, playfully. "Smart ass. Tell me about the script."

"You are in it. And me. It's basically the story of the last 4 months. We sold it to Hallmark who are shooting now."

"Wait what? I'm in this? Am I identifiable? Dan, this could have repercussions. This could affect my job if people find out?" June was suddenly concerned.

There was silence and she could see Dan's expression harden. 

"Well, it's a good thing I don't much give a fuck about your career right now then, isn't it?"

June had the good sense to keep silent this time. After a moment, Dan carried on. "You are not identifiable, and nor am I. The characters are versions of us, not us. Anyone who doesn't know what happened would never be able to connect the dots. You'll like the Greg character. He's right on. No one in the industry is going to be in any doubt who he is. I figured that was the best revenge. Well, that and a very satisfying smack in the face."




MetaMorph Ch. 05



There was another silence.

"Wait, is this that thing that Hallmark is doing, the three day thing with three different endings? I was reading something about it in the Hollywood Reporter?"

"Yeah."

"Wow Dan. That's...big. Even the guys at HBO are talking about it, talking about using the idea themselves. I don't know what to say. You always had it in you."

Dan just smiled. "Glad you like it. Because there's more. I'm forming a production company to pitch my next project. It's set in a gym – a weekly character piece about the people that use a gym and the relationships they form."

June was speechless for a moment. "You are...wait, you are what? Where is the money coming from?"

"I made out on the Hallmark deal. You might have seen the car, outside."

"That Mustang convertible thing is yours? Jesus Dan. How much else do I have to catch up with?"

"I need a producer to pitch this with."

There was silence, then, "Is that a job offer?"

"No."

A beat more silence.

"It's a partnership offer. Are you interested?"

June just looked at Dan, eyes sparkling and said, "I will quit tomorrow. No, I'll call up the HBO guys and do it tonight."

Dan laughed. "I don't think anything needs to happen quite that drastically fast, but you are in?"

"Hell yes. Four Hundred percent in. Work with my husband, the man I love? Try and stop me."

Then the excitement softened and June looked back down at her husband.

"I need to say things."

Dan struggled to sit up and said, "I know. I read the email. It explained a lot."

June gulped and said, "You have no idea how I needed that reply. I love you Dan. Only you. You own my soul. I'm so sorry for what I did. I wasn't in my right mind. I just...can't live without you. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, and getting you to trust me again."

Dan said nothing for a while, while the tears dripped from June's face onto his smooth chest.

Eventually, he pushed himself up and gathered her up. "Hush June. I forgive you. I don't forget it and it's still a wound for me, but if we are going to go forward, we need to find a way to deal, ok?"

June nodded. She pulled her head out from his shoulder and looked into his eyes, desperately seeking a sign of forgiveness. "Are you sure? I so need you."

"June. Listen to me. I need you as much as you need me. I was a slob and had no drive and I don't honestly blame you. Well, I do, but you know what I mean. I can see how this happened. So I did something about it."

June took a deep breath and said, "Dan, you didn't need to do this for me. I need you to understand, I love you. I don't care what you weigh or how you look. I love you. Don't get me wrong, this new you is something I could get used to, very easily, but still, I just want you, anyway I can get you."

"June, I know. I just...have some trust issues right now. I'm sure you understand. Are you still seeing that Doctor?"

"Yes. Not often, she's expensive, but yes."

"Want me to come along?"

June's eyes widened. "You would do that?"

"Sure. There are some questions I have and things I'd like to get answered too. I'd be happy to go. While we are talking, there are some things I have to say, too."

June sat back and nodded, folding her hands in her lap, a somewhat fearful look on her face. Dan looked at her, naked and glowing and delicious. He needed more of this.

"Right, first thing is this." He indicated her and her expression. "You look like you are waiting for the other shoe to drop. We can't have a marriage like this. I don't want someone who is terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing. That's not you and we both know it. I want June. The June I married. You fucked up and we are never going to forget it. But move on. Accept it, learn from it, but don't spend your – our – lives afraid all the time. I don't want to be married to that June. You will have to accept that certain things will be hot button topics for me, unsurprisingly. But we'll deal with those as we come to them. I need a wife who is my equal and a partner, not someone dancing on eggshells all the time.

Now I certainly don't mind you trying to make it up to me. I'm all for that. I deserve that. But I don't want our relationship to be framed through this, ok?

Secondly, this firmness thing you talked about. I'm ok with that. . I don't honestly know how far I need to go or what you need or even when you need it, but here to go for it with you. We should learn together. I'm doing a huge amount of personality change anyway – I need to be more assertive and I'm good with that. The body is just supporting the ego that gives me that confidence. It's not about the body, it's out this." Dan tapped his head.

"Thirdly, I did some things while I was gone that at some point we will need to talk about. But not now." Dan had already made up his mind he was going to tell June about Sandra. He just didn't want to do it at home – that's why he had requested going to the counselor with June – he planned on dropping that tidbit when there were other people around.

"And lastly, I'm going to take some measures with you to keep it interesting. I don't want it to get boring again. I want no risk of that."

June sat there, silently, listening. When Dan was done, she took a breath and said, "Dan, you just don't get how awesome you are, do you? I love you. I love you so completely and now I know I do. I just don't know what to say. I don't deserve you, but I have you and I'm never letting you go. I get what you said about me being me, and I think that's great. But I have work to do too. I need to understand myself and my needs better and I just want to do it with you. I'm so sorry for the hurt I caused. I will spend forever trying to make it up to you. And speaking of that..."

She reached down to play with Dan's cock. It was soft, but it responded to her touch. She smiled vivaciously at Dan and said, "I wonder if you taste any different..." and then it was Dan's turn to gasp.

They spent all the evening and night in bed. At one point June made Dan stand up and do body builder poses. He felt like a complete fool for doing it, but she got up and ran her hands over his biceps and went, "ooohhhh, hard" and he had to admit, it did feel good to make her legs wobble.

They felt hungry later, and sent out for Chinese food. Dan made June answer the door in a sheer negligee and pay with a wad of dollars tucked into her bust, ignoring her hugely red face. When she got up to answer the door, June said, "We need new friends. We need to be invited to beach and pool parties, so I can show you off. Man, I cannot WAIT to show you off to Megan. That bitch is gonna shiiiiiiit."

Dan missed her with the pillow that he threw at her and yelled at her back, "I'm just a piece of meat to you, aren't I? That's all I am."

And laid back, felt something itch his face and turned and found himself face to face with Heinz the cat, who was not thrilled that his favorite sleeping place had been usurped.

Epilog.

Three months later, Heinz Productions was a reality. Dan and June had found some office space off North Cahuenga Blvd in Hollywood and set up a small group. They had three interns. Dan was rampant with June – something about his metamorphosis had just completely kick started his sex drive, and after the first month, June had to instigate some rules to stop Dan from grabbing her every time they had the office to themselves. He had her over desks, on the copy machine, and made her make phone calls while he ate her.

Their sex life was never better, thanks to wicked imaginations on both their part, although after one afternoon where June was trapped under the desk with Dan's cock in her mouth while Dan had a meeting with Caddy, due to impulsive actions on both of them, she decided that they needed to tone it down a bit. What she didn't know is that the glass behind the table reflected exactly what she was doing under the desk and Caddy saw all of it. He sat there trying to conduct a conversation with Dan, only making gestures and trying not to laugh as Dan's answers surged and whimpered based on what June was doing.

The Hallmark movie Metamorph, now renamed to 'Rebuild' came out, and a week later there was an article in the Hollywood Reporter speculating on who the characters in the movie of the week might actually be. They were way off with the June and Dan characters, but spectacularly accurate when they pinpointed Greg Hamilton as the inspiration for the arch asshole he was made out to be in the movie. When Dan next saw Caddy he asked him point blank if he'd had anything to do with it and Caddy had just looked innocently at Dan and spread his hands and said, "I have no idea what you mean, I'm sure."

Dan joined a new boxing gym, and one day June came to watch him spar. She sat by the side of the ring as Dan went through a few rounds with various people. Everyone there was trying to impress her – a hot woman in a boxing gym gets a LOT of attention. But she only had eyes for Dan, as he ducked and weaved and fought back.

When he climbed out of the ring forty-five minutes later, dripping with sweat and nodded at her, she got up and came over and said quietly, "Take me somewhere – anywhere. I am So Wet for you right now. I need you in me NOW."

Dan smiled and thought, 'I am definitely bringing her here again.'

Four months later, and it was Dan's birthday. June had set up a dinner at Ruth Chris steakhouse with Caddy and his wife, Angelina, whom they were firm friends with by now. Everyone had a great time and June was dressed in a new white dress, with a plunging back. During dinner, she grabbed Dan's hand and pushed it up her dress, where he discovered she wasn't wearing panties. She made a point later of pushing her finger inside her, then bringing it up to caress Dan, ensuring she got her scent on his upper lip, where he would smell her. She whispered in his ear, "There is more to come, babe."

When they got home, with June blowing him the entire way, with the convertible top down, he was ready and just wanted to sink his iron erection into June's wet pussy, but she pushed him away.

He was confused, and didn't know what to say. June just smiled, and put her finger on his lips and said, "Patience." And went to get wine. When she came back, she had three glasses.

Dan looked at with a questioning look and June just smiled. The doorbell went and Dan said, "Who the hell is that at 11pm?"

June went to answer the door and came back in with a young lady. She was partially Asian, and she was dressed in a short kilt and had Egyptian style eye makeup.

"Dan, this is Anna. Do you remember her?"

Dan did. They'd met at the wrap party for the HBO show that June had worked on. They'd spent the evening talking with June. Anna was an intern for the production company and just sat there, listening to everyone and drinking it all in.

"Anna is here for your birthday," said June. "I did what I did and well, you never got anything. I think it..."

Dan interrupted, standing up. "June, this isn't ok. I don't need tit for tat. Anna, you are lovely, but I'm not going to..."

At that point June interrupted him and said, "Dan. You are awesome and lovely and smart and sometimes you are a fucking idiot. Anna is not here for you. She's here for us." And with that, June put her arm around Anna.

"She's been flirting with me for weeks at HBO. I figured I needed to get you something that was just from me to you. No one else's idea – just from me to you. I don't want to give you a woman Dan, I want to give you an experience. Now sit down and shut up."

And with that she pushed Dan back down into his chair.

She turned to Anna and said, "You sure? I'm a touch nervous myself – I've never done this before."

Anna glanced at Dan and said, "It's like falling off a log Mrs. Perry. Just go with the flow."

And with that, she kissed June. Not a light kiss, a hard on open mouthed, full of lust kiss. And Dan watched as June responded, putting her hands up around Anna's head and pulling her face in.

His pants just tented and his cock felt like it was going to burst out and go looking for the two of them all by itself.

That night, Dan was treated to watching participation and pretty much everything he could think of. He fucked both of them, and his one enduring memory was on the second time he got up, after having blasted a massive wad of cum in Anna's pussy, having Anna on the couch, legs spread, with June on all fours, his cock pumping hard into her from behind and pushing Junes face into Ann's wet box, with June desperately licking the cum out of her, and Anna grabbing her hair, pushing her face even more into it and saying, "Yeah, that's it June. Lick your husbands cum out of my cunt. Make me cum. You know you want it." And June did, moaning her assent.

Dan didn't last long after that, and spurted again.

He then sat there and watched at the two of them made out, and Anna fed fingers loaded with cum to June, after having first dipped them in Junes extremely cum laden pussy.

After she was gone, Dan and June settled in bed, June curled up against Dan and said, "Did you like your present? It was just from me to you. I need you to know I love you. There is one more present for you, but I don't know how you will feel about this one."

Dan smiled in the dark and said, "June, I have no doubts of that. I loved this evening. I could get used to this three in a bed thing, very easily."

There was silence for a moment before June said, "I'm very glad to hear that. Because there's going to be lots of times with three people in this bed soon. 

I'm pregnant."

Dan's eyes snapped open.