"You wouldn't happen to have an extra shirt in there, would you?" the young man asked. "I kinda spilled all over my jersey, and I have somewhere to be."
"Let me check," Brandon replied, unable to help a wink as he heads back to the car. He looked around, eventually finding something in the back of the trunk. As he searched, Brandon's body continued to change, his nipples growing large and puffy, poking through the thin material of his shirt quite obviously.
He walked back to the young man, shirt and hand, and handed it to him. "Here, this all I got. I hope it works."
"No problem," he said, putting the shirt aside. "Thank you, miss, I mean mister."
Brandon laughed at the boy's slip up. "Please, call be Brandon. And who might you be, young man?"
"Oh, yes, I'm Steve, Steve Farber," the boy replied.
Gerald and Freddy sat across from each other, making small talk as Sara arrived with their food. Freddy was having such a good time talking to this man that he forgot all about his concerns about his situation, or that his hair had grown down to his lower back by now in thick black ringlets.
Sarah walked into the room, a two champagne glasses in hand. "Drinks, sir and madam?"
Freddy smiled at his former cousin and nodded politely, forgiving her the slip of the tongue. Sarah walked forward, but quickly dripped over the persian rug, spilling one of the glasses into Sarah's lap.
"La madre que te parió!" Freddy muttered, looking down in his lap.
"Oh! I am so sorry, madam!" Sarah said, looking mortified.
"No, no, it's fine. At least it didn't get on my shirt," Freddy said. He looked at Gerald, who gave him a knowing smile, and excused himself from the table, going upstairs in search of something to change into.
