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Vince was running behind me, telling me that he would explain, that he loved me, but I wouldn’t have anything of that. This was it; never ever would I set foot in his house. Never again, never ever would he enter my beautiful body!I was furious but jealous at the same time. Who was this guy that had replaced me? Was he more beautiful, more witty, richer? I had just seen a glimpse of him and all I remembered was that he had an impressive, muscular body.I began stalking Vince’s house. I didn’t have to wait long: a guy in a pick-up truck arrived, went up to Vince’s apartment and came back a few hours later. He was a real macho guy. Tall, heavy set, very muscular, boots. I could hardly imagine that he was Vince’s type: Vince liked guys with delicate features, guys he could easily dominate. The following night Machoman came again. I felt an urge to confront this guy who stole Vincent from me. I started my car and followed the pick-up truck. I’m not a cop, and soon it was obvious that I. It wasn't long enough for that and hadn't been since a few years back when I tried going through a long haired phase in high school. "What the hell?" I gasped, tugging at my hair, surprised to realize that it definitely felt longer in my hands. With that, I hurried to the bathroom, stopping in front of the mirror to stare in disbelief at my reflection. My hair was definitely longer than normal, and not quite the right color. It had a slightly more reddish tinge than normal. I tugged at it again, verifying that it was indeed real, though that didn't explain what was going on. For a long moment, I just stood there, thinking that maybe I was asleep... or someone had slipped me a mickey. I was certainly feeling a little groggy, though that was nothing unusual for that time of night. Then I slowly turned away from the mirror and returned to my seat in front of the TV. If I didn't have any answers to what was going on, I still had denial. As I sat there, the strange sensations continued,.
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