We only knew because the real Shirley Westmore was currently a somewhat tall man in his early twenties. We had obviously been thrust into a young coup...e just starting out in life. I could see the immediate benefits to being stuck like this. We were young and most of the problems we had incurred in our own lives were now someone else's problems. Another bright side was that we hadn't become some kind of freaks like a lot of the people of this generation seemed to like to turn themselves into. Anne was waiting by the back door and opened it as I approached. She was wearing a tight fitting pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt. This was truly going to be my fantasy come true. She greeted me at the door with a light kiss on the cheek, her hand caressing my hair as she did so. She had a wonderful scent about her, nothing I could place, but intoxicating in its light aroma. We lingered there for a few moments, just taking in the moment. We both knew that what we were doing might be. More

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