However, when he looked into the mirror, he got the shock of his life. The image that stared back at him was not his own. It was Heather Campbell's. "...hat the . . . ." Jason said. As he spoke, he noticed that his "reflection" did not match his own movements. "I'm sorry about the bump on your head, Jason," the image in the mirror said. "You weren't getting it, so I needed to make a point." "Heather? Heather Campbell? This can't be. I must be dreaming." "No dream, Jason. It's me . . . well, my. He smiled inwardly. I guess it was, and she had masturbated, too, if the lingering scents he detected in the room were accurate. She had no reason to feel guilty about masturbating. Everyone did it. He did. God, he'd never masturbated so much as during the last month since she moved in with him. Without those daily releases of his sexual tension, he would have inappropriately jumped her lovely bones long ago.Darrin pondered the situation. What should he do about what happened? Should he admit. More

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