[©2010 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS OVER THE AGE OF 18; NO EVENTS DESCRIBED ARE TRUE;]

[This particular story is a gentle one; readers seeking ‘hot action’ and a sexy ‘play by play’ might seek another venue. Thanks, Clinton09]

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Roger, 27, had been a graduate student at one of the finest, if not the finest, state universities (Michigan) for some seven years. He was pulling down a ‘fast’ $10,000 per year. Due to lobbying, at least the stipend was income tax free. He got by because the little tract home he inhabited was his parents’ before their estate bequeathed it to him, lien free.

Roger was, to say the least, physically unimpressive. About five foot six on a good day, his arms were little more than bones covered by a pale cover. His private parts were best kept private; he approached the giant three inch length but only if the Russian or American woman’s gymnastics team had a real babe going for the gold. (ah, Shannon Miller, how we miss ye) One last thing about Roger was his hair; it was wavy and long; he was sort of a mini-Kenny G.

His home was adjacent to two incredibly disparate neighbors. To his left was a grizzled retiree. Roger never talked to him long enough to learn whether that guy was alone due to his wife’s passing or leaving him (later he learned she had left him.) The man tried to fly a huge American flag. To ‘get the goat of that hippy that lived next door’ was his explanation to the homeowners’ association. Oddly enough, Roger voted FOR his right to fly the flag, but he was overruled and down came the flag. Horton (the old neighbor) did not like that, blamed ‘that hippy’ Roger for this humiliation, with attendant $500 penalty, and vowed revenge. To be sure, Horton did not appreciate looking at his neighbor and seeing the cute, or frightening, visage of a great ape looking back at him.

Great apes (bonobos and chimps mostly) were at the core of Roger’s work. At school, he oversaw primate research, but this was mostly depressing duty where human products were first tested, humanely, on apes. Roger noted, and read further, on how much stronger apes were than men. It wasn’t that they lifted weights or worked for it, of course. Nor did apes have superior musculature; there were no Schwarzenegger apes posing for their female counterparts. Their muscles were modest in size, required for the flexibility to climb. The secret was in the DNA, of course. Their muscles were different and their brains more attuned to physicality. Roger thought if he could impart some of the ape growth factors into humans, then human muscles would work better, buoyed by the greater body/mind connection. It was a forlorn hope, an impossible task?

Twas two nights before Christmas, and all thru his house, not a thing was stirring, except for his mouse. Roger made a leap, changing the ‘handedness’ of some sugar molecule from left to right handed. He did it on a ‘lark’ with no reason other than desperation. He would go to the labs at the university tomorrow with his key, and try to get the formula made. He went thru the usual backup procedures. He did them so religiously he gave them no thought. All of this formula was now on his computer. He’d print it out tomorrow, or sometime. The formula would take 26 pages to print with footnotes.

It was a treat for Roger to have as his OTHER neighbor Pamela, call her Pam. She was a widow at the young age of 41, her husband a truck driver who passed away due to a traffic accident. Pam was warm, loving, needful, and beautiful. She was not Hollywood or Playboy beautiful; no part of her body would set people with tape measures talking. She was the embodiment of plain, brown hair, brown eyes, a minimum of makeup, and a slim but not hourglass frame, five feet five, 110 lbs. Her whole life revolved around her son, stricken with an illness undisclosed to Roger. The illness was chronic and now deprived Tommy of the ability to even walk and take care of himself. Roger, being a campus brat of a certain age, dismissively called him the ‘rugrat’, but Tommy was everything to Pam.

Roger had nowhere to go for Christmas, so it was only natural that he would be with Pam. Pam had repeatedly communicated to Roger in a language he did not speak. When he slept over one night after babysitting, Pam continually said she was so grateful to him, how could she repay him? He looked so lonesome out there alone on the couch? Did he want to talk before they went to sleep? All of these messages fell on deaf ears. He really WAS a bookworm, a sexless dork…

Roger did one thing momentous exactly 12 hours before going over for Xmas dinner. He had two vials of the formula, the serum, which he had designed. He would try one on himself. He took it. He felt a bit queasy, that was all. He settled down to a nap.

Startled awake by his noisy alarm, he got up. Remembering that test, he ran to the mirror and looked, hoping to see some incredible pin-up beefcake stud with linebacker shoulders, arms of a god, and escort bayan esenyurt strength of ten men. Alas, there were no visible signs. Looking at his arms, he did notice that whereas they were about the thickness of the underlying bones, now they were at least normal looking. Moreover, they were thin but hard as a rock. He tested his strength on a six pack case of 3 liter bottles (total over 37 lb.s) and was surprised he could easily lift it with one arm. That was hardly Mr. Olympia territory, but he used to have to use two hands to pour a TWO liter bottle of Coke. He wondered ‘what else worked’ on his experiment. He searched out his TV remote control.

The easiest and quickest way to test him was to find the news channel; there it was. Oh, oh yes, one of the infobabes was sitting there, discoursing about something (who cares), and her legs were almost as fantastic as the infobabe scheduled for the next segment. With a gasp, a short breath, Roger looked down and he had reached his new pinnacle, some six solid inches. No, he wasn’t ready to do the stunt work for John Holmes, but he at least was ‘normal’ here too.

He looked at the other vial. He had no doubt that if the 1st vial bestowed normalcy to a sub-male, the 2nd one would impart world champion studliness. He pictured that cheerleader co-ed he had in one of the myriad classes he had to teach for full professors while they “researched” for their next books. He day- dreamed about being the ‘big’ man on campus in more ways than one, making that cheerleader giddy with excitement.

Well, there was no time for the 2nd vial to take effect, this being the day of the dinner. He put it in his pocket, left out the front door (not locking it; he DID live in another world), and went to Pam’s house.

Pam welcomed him warmly; the whole house had that warmth, that woodsy secure feeling you only get in northern climes during the holiday season. She had a real tree, something Roger never did (they would have to cut one down, after all…) Around the tree were some wrapped presents; this hit Roger like a slap in the face. He had brought absolutely nothing! He said, “Pam, I am incredibly embarrassed; I brought nothing except my pitiful self. I know if I went out now, the only places open would be Krystal, a Seven-Eleven, and the adult bookstore near campus. I don’t think any of those places would be selling a decent gift. If you want…I will go home.”

He actually thought that someone, anyone, let alone a loving woman like Pam, would turn him away. She hugged him more warmly than anyone ever had. Sharing breath with him, she asked, “Do you REALY think I would turn you out on Christmas because you couldn’t afford gifts for me or Tommy?” She kissed him, for the first time ever. Roger was no paramour, but he also was a man. He returned that kiss, his new found ‘normal’ strength helping him feel like a normal man.

At dinner, Pam had turkey, sweet potatoes, cranberry gelatin, and muffins. Roger was overwhelmed, his guilt feelings of being gift-less started to really eat away at him.

As predicted, it was a snowy night. This being Michigan, the very sidewalks and driveways that were passable in the morning might not be by midnight. Roger naively said that in light of that, he had to leave early (9pm); Pam’s plans were dashed. Both Pam and Roger parted ways, the moment lost.

One hour later, there were flashing lights everywhere. Two county constable police cars were there. They surveyed the damages. Someone (no doubt Horton) had gone into Roger’s home (no forced entry) and trashed his computer, let free 2 of his pets (i.e. test animals), and upended everything. Unfortunately for the perp, fresh snow leaves tracks that are crystal clear. They led to and from the neighbor’s home. The security cam across the street confirmed everything.

Roger took stock. He had not printed out the vast formula and his PC was utter toast. Horton had been thorough and had broken the spine of the DVD back-up disks. His trusty fire safe backup was nowhere to be seen, no doubt at the bottom of Lake Michigan. It was all over, it was all ruin. The cops taking Horton away was small comfort.

Seeing a box of Junior Mints on the kitchen counter, Roger stifled his tears and sheepishly went back to Pam’s. At the door, she smiled broadly, warmly, ecstatic that something had brought him back. He bent his head, offering his mints as the best gift he could find. She kissed the small carton, she kissed him. He then wept as he related what had happened. All of a sudden, her comfort was not just nice; it was the most important thing in the world to him.

Pam said she had one thing she had to do; that he should stay there…please. She ran upstairs, said some motherly comforting words to Tommy, telling him it was bed time. She doused the light in his room. She returned downstairs.

Pam asked him if he wanted anything, a Bud, a boilermaker (Michigan, remember), Escort Bayan Avcılar or a liquer.

Roger said he didn’t smoke or drink, but thanks.

She said, wine for the lady, liquer for the gent. Her sparkling white wine looked odd next to the small shot glass of Amaretto. When Roger protested, she commanded him to try it.

He conceded it tasted good, and gave him a warm feeling.

Pam said, “So all that research, all that work, everything was destroyed by that old crank, Horton? Didn’t you have backup?”

Roger said, “I don’t know; I am pretty sure he got everything. I guess I could look again. I am pretty sloppy when it comes to filing things. Actually, I’m more concerned that you had me over and all I could muster were some Junior Mints. If I could give you more…you have been so kind to me over the months, just when I needed it.” They hugged; they kissed.

Pam was out of breath; it had been so long since she had loving, or even a good hug from someone who needed her. She said she at first had taken the birth of her son, Tommy, as a punishment from God for some transgression, what with his muscular atrophy condition similar to ‘Jerry’s Kids’ syndrome. However, she later felt it was a gift, as she had someone who loved her without reserve, who needed her. She looked at Roger, “Look at me; here I am lecturing you on the trials and tribulations of being a caregiver parent. This is YOUR Christmas and whatever else happened today, we will never forget this day. I know you are not a Rudolf Valentino; you didn’t understand a single signal I was giving you over these months. [She grabbed him lightly by the lapels. She kissed him.] Roger, I love you, and it’s just possible you love me. I am going to my room now; you can sleep down here, go home, or call your senator. What I WANT is for you to join me; to love me….so I can love you. Please…” [She kissed him, got up, and went to her room.]

Roger knew what he had to do. He had to ‘man up.’ How to repay the warmth and beauty of this woman; a woman who offered the sanctity of her home, her hearth, her heart? He had no gifts, nothing. Perhaps that second vial could help. He looked down at his body, thinking of what it could do…for him. And, logically, if he was a better lover for her, would that not be a gift for her in a way. He pondered for some time before making his decision; the second vial it would be.

The second vial was administered. Roger took a deep breath and headed now for Pam’s room. Roger knew logically that the second vial took hours to take effect. As to loving Pam today, he was on his own.

As people linked more by love and human warmth than passion, they met at the middle of Pam’s bed, hugging, kissing, a few tears, and a motherly embrace. Roger rested his head on her shoulder. Roger was in his boxer shorts, Pam her nightgown.

Pam dragged her hands over Roger’s enhanced-to-normalcy body, relishing its plainness as if he were built like the governor of California. He for his part very timidly felt thru the thick nightgown, coming near her modest but well formed 35-C cup breasts. All of a sudden, she said, “STOP.”

She pulled the nightgown over her head and threw it emphatically onto a chair. Roger grabbed her under the ribs and pulled her to him with the force of his enhanced musculature. He still was fumbling and only held her clumsily, his hands oafish as he pawed her boobs. She pushed him off her, got on her back, and summoned him with a finger gesture.

Looming above her on all fours, Pam grabbed his modest six inch cock and pulled him, via that cock, down to her generous forest guarding her private place. She rubbed his cock against this brown forest, making him almost jump thru the roof. He pushed her hand away and took over. Dragging his innocent (and quite virgin) enhanced six inch cock across her pubic forest, he felt sensations he had never had before. After ten minutes of this, Pam intervened, using her hand to divert that love pole inside her. They both tensed up and sighed audibly. Pam had an almost earthquake level orgasm, shaking like a 9.5 temblor. She had an even bigger one when, by chance, his six inch lovestick happened to touch her g-spot, making her jump as if she was touching a powerline. Unfortunately, that sensation passed all too quickly.

As they looked into each other’s eyes, Roger decided that he might try something he saw when he was watching an adult film. He pushed Pam’s legs up over his shoulders, her beautiful feet at either side of his head. He could see her clearly now, a bit teary eyed, but smiling and nodding. In the history of the world, no one was more welcome to a woman’s private realm than Roger on this night. Finding instincts from somewhere, he pressed hard against the bed post, with Pam in between. His modest six inch cock could just barely feel something in her, deep inside. With his cockhead pointed in the direction of the cervix, he lovingly, Escort Bayan Beylikdüzü desperately, determinedly sprayed his surprisingly potent sperm. His seed was deposited inside the fertile, receptive, loving womb of a woman he cared for…he loved. Nothing could make him or her happier this night. So, a gift was given, but to whom? And what about that second vial, anyway??

The two lovers, having found each other finally, slept the night together, bonded as only man and woman can be. His modest manhood could just reach her womanly place if they slept belly to warm belly, and so they did. At 2:17 am, a passing ambulance awakened them; they kissed and fell back to sleep.

At 7:15am, the alarm went off. Pam sat up in her bed, ashamed that she had forgotten to check on Tommy. Then, panic. An intruder was in the house. She woke up Roger. “Someone is IN this house; I heard him near Tommy’s room and now he is just outside our door. I can see his shadow! Oh, Roger, what should we do?”

As Roger reached for his cellphone for a call to 9-1-1, the door opened. Both of them were shocked, frightened, surprised. Pam’s eyes welled up in tears; she threw the covers off and almost leaped to the door. Leaning on the door, having walked with some difficulty, Tommy was standing there. As Pam welcomed her son Tom to the larger world, sobbing in joy, Roger beamed. For, after thinking about what to do with his 2nd vial, not having brought a gift, he had to give his gift, the 2nd vial, to Tommy, in the hopes that he would improve. And it had worked.

The three of them, slowly and carefully, walked downstairs for breakfast. And a more joyous group of three you could not find anywhere, even on Boxing Day, as it was December 26th. To their surprise, there was a knock on the door. Roger had left the address and phone of Pam as a backup if he had to be reached.

On the front stoop was a pretty attorney. She asked Roger if he could identify this? With great difficulty, she held up this very heavy grey fire safe. She said that they had found it in the personal effects of the defendant.

Roger almost shouted, “yes, that is my fire safe!!” She handed it to him. He said, “Wait, isn’t this evidence? Don’t they need it for the trial?”

She said, “There won’t be a trial; he has confessed to everything. In fact, he made a request that we plead his case before you. His plea:

‘I know you can never forgive me. I have no excuses. About ten beers and a few too many moments staring at my ex-wife’s picture had me do something really stupid. If you can forgive me, and not press charges, I can give you something. I am far too old now to take care of, let alone use and enjoy, my sail boat. It is in a drydock near Lake Michigan, a modest boat of 36 feet. If you can find it in your heart to let me come home, I will give you this boat, with my gratitude.”

Roger and Pam looked, without speaking. He turned to the attorney, and she knew without speaking.

That night, Pam checked on Tommy, but only briefly. He was determined to be 100% self-sufficient now, and was doing a great job. Tommy was 18, but was almost a new born in some ways, more naïve than Roger if that was possible. But sometimes things are obvious to even the most naïve; Pam told Tommy that he should not bother her tonight, that she needed time alone with her new husband.

Her jaw dropped when Tommy asked if he could watch, he’d never seen it before.

Pam asked, “Seen what, Tommy?”

Tommy smiled in a way he never could have weeks ago; he said, “I have never seen people make love, like you two will. Mom, is Roger going to, umm, FUCK you? Is he going to make you pregnant?”

Pam was amazed at his temerity. She said, “Sweetheart, little boys don’t talk like that to their mothers. Now go to sleep.” She got up to go; at the doorway, she turned to him and said, “For your information, just this once, YES we are going to make love. And I wish with all my heart that he gets me pregnant. Good night sweetheart.” The lights clicked off.

Roger was already waiting eagerly on their new marital bed. Pam found a frilly little teddy that she had bought, but had never worn before. When she emerged from the bathroom, it only went down to her welcoming dark forest, and her deceptively beautiful legs and bare feet were all the temptation that Roger needed. As she approached, he quickly thought of how lonely he had been, how weak and pallid he had been, how devoid of a family. Now, he had this beautiful woman, her child, and God willing, soon their own children. He also had a small yacht awaiting them near Lake Michigan, two homes, and a grant he got just today to convert his formula into a mass production product. His advance would end up being $200,000.

Their hands met; their lips met. A warm embrace; a gentle caress. They felt each other, finding comfort, warmth and security. Then, as if an electric charge had been applied, shocking them, they looked at each other. They understood what was to be done. Wordlessly, Pam got on her back. Roger showed some snap and put a flat pillow under his wife’s soft behind. He pushed her legs above him and kissed the slender ankle and lovely right foot of his beautiful new bride. They stared into each other’s eyes and understood; they both shed a tear and kissed.