Mrs. Maurice

"Silly girl!" chuckled the imposter.

She looked at the clock, realized that James would be home soon, and set to preparing dinner. It had been so long since she had cooked for a man. The chicken went into the oven. Exploring the house, she decided that the laundry basket was full enough to warrant a run in the washer. While loading, she noted a small sewing machine on a shelf next to the dryer. The imposter smiled in delight. A gifted seamstress who made most of her own clothes her entire life, the machine seemed an answer to an unasked prayer. When she had the time, she would raise all of Eileen's skirts by at least three inches and tighten up the blouses so that they better hugged her figure. "No need for James to buy me a whole new wardrobe. I am a thrifty and practical wife," she said aloud. Some things, however, could not be fixed as easily. Even a senior citizen cut off from most of the world had heard of Amazon. Sure enough, Eileen had an account. It was better than the Sears Roebuck catalog ever was! Brand new knickers, bras, and two bikini bathing suits would arrive tomorrow. The imposter was very much looking forward to next month's vacation which also corresponded with James's birthday, the details of which she learned from Eileen's Facebook page. A private bungalow in the Caribbean! To feel the tropical sun again! To share that time with James doing nothing but making love! She could hardly wait!

James came home to find his wife by the door, whiskey on the rocks in her hand. She was dressed in the all-white wedding night trousseau from their honeymoon. His jaw fell open in delight and surprise. He accepted the drink and took her in his arms. She felt his desire.

"I am the dessert after dessert, James." then she emitted a throaty giggle.

"How did you have time for all this?" asked James as he sat down to the stupendous dinner.

"Water main break near work today. Roz sent us home early."

"Oh," he said, followed by "Oh!" as he took his first bite. The chicken was spicier and far tastier than Eileen's usual adequate but no great shakes cooking. He found himself inhaling the meal. As he ate his eyes focused on his bride. There was something he could not place about her. The performance from the night before, the sexy greeting, the fantastic meal. He thought about old myths of changelings and enchantments, and then instantly dismissed them. The woman sitting across the table was unquestionably his wife. Her blue eyes had the same sparkle, her sexy figure was identical, right down to the wine birthmark, just visible where her right breast met her underarm. Maybe the women at work or one of her friends had talked to her about the need for a wife to please her man. Whatever had brought about this change, he thanked the heavens for it. Dessert was creme brulee, his favorite, but Eileen rarely made it because she claimed it was too much work. He cracked the film, licked his spoon, and downed the last of his drink.

"The dishes can wait until later," she said slyly as she took his hand and led him upstairs. There, she proceeded to blow his mind.

He woke up once, in the middle of the night. She was wrapped around his body, both were naked. In the half-light cast across the room by the moon, he gazed upon her loveliness.

"I hope you never turn back into a pumpkin, Cinderella!" Then he kissed her gently and returned to slumber.

She woke up early to load the dishwasher and make James a nourishing breakfast. He hated to leave the house for work. That wonderful sense of both fullness and emptiness that befalls a person after intense lovemaking sessions hung delightfully around him. Eileen had presented him her ass last night! HIS Eileen! The woman who balked every time he inserted a finger in her anus and physically recoiled. That Eileen? Whoever had written the self-help book she had to be hiding somewhere around the house deserved the highest praise concluded James. He hoped that he would stumble across this hidden tome so that he could find out the title and author and could relay that information to all his married buddies at work. His workday passed in a blissful haze.

The rest of the week was a sea of incidents for James. He completely forgot about his old frustrations with his wife. The complaints about her being frigid seemed the half-remembered ravings of a mad man.

**

"This is the last time you have to see Mrs. Maurice, right?"

"Yes, then I turn my paperwork over to my parole officer and my record is expunged. I'm so sorry I stole those things, James. You give me such a wonderful life. I don't know what I was thinking!"

"So long as it doesn't happen again. Getting called to the police station while I was at work. You're damn lucky they didn't strip search you!"

He smiled and followed with, "That's the first thing I would have done!"

Eileen laughed and returned with, "Maybe I'll rob a bank next time, so they do!"

This time both laughed.

James considered his beautiful wife. She seemed especially beautiful these days, racy attitude, racy underwear, sexy new wardrobe. Well, sort of new. She had spent all of Sunday at the sewing machine altering her old clothes. James, who adored Eileen's legs, was delighted that she was finally showing them off. She had great legs. They should be shown off. How many times had he told her that? Now, she was living his advice. The way she tailored her blouses to subtly emphasize her bust, was also a revelation. She'd spent next to nothing, yet now dressed like a model out of a catalog! James could not wait for their vacation. He hoped the private bungalow could lure Eileen into one of his fantasies, sunbathing and making love nude outdoors! Before it seemed as likely as a lottery win... now?

They kissed a long time before she strode out the door to her car.

"Hello, Robin!" she said chipperly to the aid at the front desk, "How is Mrs. Maurice today?"

"Good morning, Eileen. She's taken a turn for the worse, the doctors aren't sure what's wrong, but they don't think it's dementia."

"Oh, that is too bad. And I was just starting to like her."

"Are you sure you want to see her?"

"At the very least I have to complete my community service requirement. Has your boss finished with my paperwork?"

"I'll check, Eileen. You can go ahead and visit Mrs. Maurice."

She buzzed her into the suites part of the nursing home.

The old woman sat in a wheelchair; she was weeping.

"Good morning, Mrs. Maurice!"

The old woman looked up.

"YOU! She hissed. "Give me back my body!"

"I don't know what you are talking about, Mrs. Maurice."

She made sure the door was closed behind her. She stood in triumph near the old woman and chuckled.

"Why should I restore the old order? I'm making better use of this body than YOU ever did! My stars, but what a man, James is! What a magnificent cock!"

The old woman glared.

"Yes, I sucked his cock and swallowed his seed. I've made love to him until his intimate flesh could not respond anymore to my entreaties. He's taken every part of me including my posterior! Can YOU say the same thing?"

"He will find out what you have done. Someone will!"

"James is too blinded and besotted by incredible sex and wonderful cooking to think deeply on the issue. Your coworkers haven't a clue. I'm certain I'll be able to fool the rest of your family and friends."

"You BITCH! You WHORE!"

"Hardly, I am a faithful wife and a respectable citizen. How are you settling in?"

"You are an awful person!"

"Perhaps, but I now have another entire lifetime to atone for that. Are you prepared to meet your maker? You could live another decade. Then again, you might be gone tomorrow. At least you can enter eternity knowing that your husband is loved and adored."

"James is mine!"

"Correction, James is MINE!"

The young woman smiled at the old woman.

"I'll send you a postcard while we are on vacation. James will adore the tiny bikini bathing suits I bought for the trip."

"Please! Put me back! You've had your fun. I've learned whatever lesson you intended. This is murder!"

"I haven't killed you. I just placed you in an aged body. There is nothing for you to learn aside from not sharing too much of your personal life. You've spent a week in this arthritic, ancient body, you know its misery and limitations -- why would anyone ever want to occupy it? Why should I return to it?"

"Because it is the right thing to do!"

"According to you, Mrs. Maurice, according to you."

"Stop calling me that!"

"Who else would you be? The placard on the door says, Mrs. Maurice. The medical charts all say, Maurice. That is who the world sees you as for that is who you are."

"Please, I'll do anything you want if only you return my body."

"All I want is your fit and lovely young body and I already have that."

"What did I ever do to you to deserve this?" cried the old woman.

"You have done nothing. It was a simple crime of opportunity. Had you not shoplifted our paths would never have crossed. In a way, this is a result of your own foolish greed. Often the penalty is worse than the sin. This is one of those times."

The older woman burst into tears. "Fuck you!" she cried.

"No, old woman, fuck YOU!" returned the young woman.

She stood a long moment beaming.

"As you know, today is the end of my community service. I won't be in next week, but I may stop in from time to time to give you the latest gossip on my marital sex life and from work."

"Please! Please!" repeated the old woman over and over.

The young woman just laughed and made her way out the door and out to the front desk. Her emancipation paperwork was waiting for her.

The month before vacation got busier than expected. One of James's coworkers was injured so he had to work double shifts until a replacement could be trained. They promised to have the new person in place by the time of his vacation. That left James little home time other than dinner and sleep. His wife's food was wonderful and the sex she provided, no matter the hour he came home, kept James walking on air despite the crushing workload. The huge paycheck it meant just before they flew away to the tropics certainly helped as well.

The imposter found Eileen's password code book. Now she no longer needed to rely on her fingerprint to access the joint account in the bank or all the other passwords to the digital universe that she was rapidly falling in love with. There was a mysterious key whose lock, she was determined to find. It turned out to be that for a small chest in the basement. Inside were all of Eileen's diaries, which she had been keeping since she was fourteen and concluded just before her final, fateful visit to the nursing home. It was all there, first crushes, high school, her first sexual encounter with the father of her best friend at the time, the prom, graduation, the summer vacations at the beach where she bragged about the reactions from boys and men when she wore tiny shorts and a crop top everywhere. Later, kissing and so much more with these same boys and men. Eileen's adventures in college, boyfriends good and bad, and her messy and very public affair with a married graduate student at which ended so humiliating for her that she turned inward sexually and conservative in fashions. Her first date with James, her meticulous seduction of him, her wedding plans, and her aspirations for the marriage. This was all followed a few months later by Eileen's heartbreaking lament upon realizing that she could never give James what he wanted and deserved. The bad affair's lingering effects had left her unwilling to experiment or even honor James's modest requests and most basic fantasies. Eileen had confessed her problem to her current best friend Pamela who had suggested a good therapist or, short of that, to accompany her to Vegas where they could both get laid by handsome strangers. Giving a stranger the things, he wanted would be easier than giving them to James the diary sadly concluded. Eileen never went on that trip to Nevada. Nor did she see a therapist. The list of James's fantasies she would never be able to fulfill, took up a page of their own offset in red ink. The diary even explained the shoplifting. James's joke about a strip search was no joke to Eileen. She had wanted to be arrested for the express purpose of being stripped, searched, and. humiliated. The way her twisted logic went, if she was forced to strip off by some large lesbian with desires for her trim young body, Eileen could break down her inhibition barrier. If she was compelled to squat and cough and probed fore and aft, whatever was ailing her sexually would be "cured." The imposter chuckled when she read the full depths of Eileen's insecurities, Apparently, she really read up on the topic. She planned to not comply with the strip search order after her arrest because she read, that in those cases, the prisons cut off the arrestee's clothes. Eileen had gone hunting for the most humiliating experience possible, only to discover that her local police force was friendly, the station had tasty donuts and coffee, and everyone was efficient. It was nothing like the movies she had been watching or the erotic stories she had been reading on the net. The worst she received was a gentle frisking by a female detective. Eileen's disappointment was palpable. The imposter found the naivete she read almost endearing. Almost. Every detail was committed to memory. The imposter's mind was still keen and agile.

A scheduled date with friend Pamela went off without a hitch, the short blonde woman never suspected that it wasn't her friend Eileen, though she, at first, noticed the new light accent. She did her best to explain it away, prompting her friend to say, "It's cute and all, girl, but I'd get that checked out. You might have had a stroke or something." and the lunch date ended with an agreement for another one. By now, she had mastered all the intricacies of the iPhone and used it to plan the date.

Because James was busy until almost the last minute, his wife packed the suitcases and made the final arrangements. Not one hour of time apart from James and his long hours had been wasted. The impostor's last fears of discovery evaporated.

**

The flight was their first truly calm and peaceful time together in weeks.

"I can finally spend time with my sexy minx," he mused.

"We've made love many times, sweetheart."

"That is true, but almost always I was up against the clock, and I had to sleep."

"Unfortunately, yes, but you will be under no such restraints for the next two weeks!"

"Amen!"

"Happy Birthday, baby!"

And then they kissed for a long time oblivious to the other occupants of the crowded plane.

From the airport, they took the company shuttle to the resort. The shuttle was open-topped. It was just about noon. The tropical air was warm and fragrant, and a soft breeze, flowed off the ocean. Exotic, unfamiliar bird calls filled their ears. The shuttle pulled to a stop before two dozen snug little bungalows arching along a strip of private beach. It was even lovelier in person than it had been on the internet! A resort employee exited the small headquarters building. A moment later, their suitcases and carry-on bags were on the way to their bungalow. James and his wife followed their luggage to cabin eighteen, after checking in and obtaining the passkey.

Unburdened by bags, James, in a moment of inspiration, swept up his bride in his arms and carried her across the threshold.

The bungalow was small but comfortable. The front room contained a loveseat and a large screen television. The bedroom with the waterbed and mirrored ceiling was off to the right, an attached bathroom, and finally, a door that opened right on top of the dunes. To the left was the small kitchen. A carrot cake, James's favorite was sitting on the table.

"Your gift is in my luggage. I'm sure you will adore it, handsome."

"Let's unpack, honey. Then we can cut the cake. There is a taxi stand at the entrance of the resort if we want to go to town later."

"Whatever you want, darling, James"

A short time later, they were seated at the kitchen table. The wife lit a few token candles on the cake. James blew them out and opened his card. Inside was a certificate to a photo studio near their home.

"We can either have a few formal portraits of us done, or I could pose for the photographer any way you want, James. Perhaps both?"

"His eyes lit up at the thought. Nude portraits of his beautiful young wife were something he had always wanted. The last time he broached the subject with Eileen, she had become angry and turned the idea down flat. James was certainly enjoying the new leaf she had turned over.

"Now, your present."

She placed a small, flat box wrapped in pretty paper before him. James tore the package open. Inside was a choker necklace with a jeweled design on the front.

"OK, he said," a bit confused.

"Don't you understand, darling? That is a collar of obedience, so long as we are on vacation, I shall wear it and while I wear it, I MUST obey your every command."

"Really?" returned James as his mouth hung open.

"That is unless, of course, that you don't wish for me to wear it."

"Don't wish for you to wear it? Come here!"

She giggled sweetly as he fastened the collar behind her cascade of long brown hair. It looked quite fetching around her neck.

"Well," she said, "Command me!"

"Give me a kiss."

"With pleasure!"

After a long enjoyable kiss, James said, "Take off your clothes."

His bride performed a sexy striptease. She stood nude before him. The young man considered her from head to toe. There was something he had always wanted to do.

"Why are you not shaved like a true submissive slave?"

James figured that the fantasy would end here. Every time he had suggested that in the past, Eileen called him a pervert who was unhappy with how God had made her. That he was interested in little girls! His bride seemed lost in meditation.

"Here it comes!" thought James in despair.

"Should it not be the responsibility of the master to see to the depilation of his slave?" and then she smiled widely.

'REALLY?"

"I do as my husband asks. I do whatever he asks, though sometimes I may suggest ways to make his orders and suggestions more enjoyable for us both."

"Holy cow! Eileen, If I didn't know better, I'd swear that someone smuggled a giant seed pod into our bedroom and hid it under the bed."

"Husband?"

"Remember? "Invasion of the Body Snatchers." We watched it once and laughed at the line, "I thought I knew the meaning of fear, but that was before I kissed Becky!"

The imposter forced a chuckle and said, "Oh yes, I must have forgotten."

"Before I take the next step Eileen, you're sure, right? You won't try to strangle me in my sleep later or yell at me in the morning?"

"Now why would I do either of those things, darling James?"

This is just so unlike you. I can't believe you are going to let me do it."

"I wear the collar of obedience. Of course, whatever you want is all right."

In that moment, James decided that even if he was dealing with an alien lifeform or some changeling left by the elves in place of his wife, it did not matter. The changeling was better in every way. He stepped away for a moment and returned with his shaving kit.

"Lie down upon the bed," he said.

She did so, he stood and marveled for a moment, then his fingers gently stroked her thickly furred sex. He bent and kissed all that hair goodbye. He picked up a glass from the nightstand and removed the cuticle scissors from his shaving kit.

"Last chance to chicken out," he waved the scissors about in a playful manner.

The woman lying in the bed simply nodded and smiled wanly.

James lowered the scissors and began clearcutting the thick forest. He held the hair in small bunches and trimmed it off close to the skin. The bundles of loose hair he placed in the glass. He wanted a memento of this magical moment for the days ahead, tangible evidence that he had fulfilled a long-standing dream. He eyed his handiwork. The crewcut had already revealed much of his wife's most intimate place. He caught his breath and prepared for the next step. He took a damp washcloth and pressed it against his wife's crotch, once removed, he carefully and diligently, coated everything with shaving foam. Placing a new blade in the razor, he dipped it in a glass of warm water and began to run it over his wife's vulva. He stared, enthralled, as the trail of the razor's head revealed smooth milky white skin. He controlled the tremor in his hand and focused solely on the almost hypnotic sight of his bride's most intimate parts being bared to the world. He was gentle and thorough taking as much time as he needed. His bride bit her lower lip as she watched him work in the huge overhead mirror. She loved how gentle and tender James's touch was and soared with delight at the joy upon his ever-so-handsome face. This was such a little thing, yet it brought him so much joy. The imposter considered the previous occupant of this body, clearly, she had done the right thing. A man like James deserved a woman who fulfilled his fantasies, not refusal and coldness. Eileen had been given a fine body but had never allowed it to live. She was old before her time. She had earned the feeble old body she now occupied!