“-so if I can just show that mutagenesis in the H2 loci is the progenitor of the neural plaques, I have a good chance of proving my thesis before the committee.”

I look up from my iPhone and grin. “You know I love it when you use big words like that.”

Stacy tosses her blouse onto the floor. Then she climbs onto the mattress, her legs straddling my body. I feel her reach down towards my groin, caressing it with her hand. “Words aren’t the only big thing I know how to use,” she says with a wink.

I toss my phone to the side. “Oh, smart and handy,” I say with a laugh. I wrap my arms around her back, my fingers reaching for the clasp of her bra, pulling her towards me for a kiss. Our lips meet, and my body feels electric at the touch. A second later, her breasts are exposed, her pink nipples erect, and she’s not the only one. My own member is hard and at the ready. I feel Stacy’s hand grabbing it, pumping it, then guiding it to its sheath. I slide in with ease from our mutual wetness, impaling her to the hilt. I gasp, as a tingle runs up my body. “So, hot,” I moan.

Stacy echoes me, and she begins to move, her powerful thighs drawing her to and fro, up and down, gaining speed. With it, my moans turn into grunts, and I can feel it. I’m close. I’m…

My body tenses as all my muscles pull tight. My eyes squeeze shut, my opening flares. And then, the release comes.

****

I blink, the fragments of the night’s dream already dissolving into the recesses of my mind. A yawn escapes my lips, and I pull myself out of bed. Across the room, I spot myself in the mirror, a chubby five-year-old about half a foot over three. I amble over, placing stubby fingers across the cool glass surface, touching the reflection of my body. Even after five years, I still find it hard to believe I’m a child again. What's more, my appearance has remained essentially as it was back when I was a child on Earth. The same messy brown hair, the same gray eyes, the same freckles dotting a button nose. I wonder if the goddess had planned it that way.

I change into a white woolen garment, a blue vest and black breeches, along with high leather boots that nearly reach my knees. As I’m getting dressed, a sweet aroma drifts into the room, buttermilk with a hint of blueberries. Mouth starting to water, I prance out of my bedroom, making for the kitchen. There, I find my mother, busy at the stove.

“Good morning, Mommy!” I greet, my voice chirpy like a songbird. My mother turns, gives me a smile and walks over.

“Good morning, Sammy,” she says as she lifts her hand. She places it on my head and begins to smooth out my mop of bed hair. I find the motion oddly cathartic; if I were a cat, I’d definitely purr. “There,” she says, “Can you set out two plates?”

I nod, using a stool to reach the cabinet. “Daddy already work?” I ask.

“Daddy is already ‘at’ work,” my mother replies, correcting my grammar.

“Is Daddy already ‘at’ work?” I repeat.

My mother nods in approval. “Your father is busy preparing for the harvest festival next month.”

My father is the mayor of Tavenport, the town we live in, which makes him a rather busy man. That’s probably why he’s not around most of the time. From what I’ve gathered, however, he’s stern and fair, and well respected by all the townsfolk. According to local gossip, he used to be a fairly powerful adventurer, a paladin, I think. In any case, he was strong, strong enough to even be part of the king’s royal entourage. He resigned his post, however, once he met my mother, and the two of them got married, moved to Tavenport. A few years later and, well, I arrived.

“Here you are,” my mother says. She sets down the pancakes, and I immediately dig in. Once I’m full, I see my mother bring over a box, wrapped in cloth. “Sammy, can you bring these to your father? He’s at the town hall. You can find your way there, right?”

“I got it, Mommy!” I reply, giving her a salute. This draws a smile. I grab ahold of the package, and then I’m dashing out the door.