Chapter 5: The Heart Remembers

The water streamed across George and Dawn's entwined bodies. It traced the lines of George's lean muscles and caressed Dawn's impossible curves. They kissed and embraced and joined over and over, enjoying a closeness that neither had felt in their short time together. George cleaned her first, starting with her golden brown hair, which looked and smelled just as intoxicating wet. He lathered up his hands and slowly ran them over her lithe and curvaceous form, like he was a sculptor rubbing out the rough edges, as if she had any. Her smooth back, her pert breasts, her taut stomach, her luscious ass, her bountiful hips, long thighs and calves, in between her cute little toes, the folds of her sex, nothing was forgotten in his mission to worship his goddess made flesh.

Dawn returned in kind, her lips led the way for her lathered hands as she kissed her way up his powerful legs, washboard abs, tight butt, broad chest, and his lips that trembled every time they kissed. Her soapy hands didn't forget his member, and expertly stroked him until she could no longer wait to have him inside her. George lifted her up even more easily than he had before, and took her against the slick marble wall. It was a long blissful build filled with Dawn's sweet words of encouragement, followed by her cries of joy and ecstasy. For George, all sense of self and time had ceased. His body hadn't grown tired, his mind wasn't elsewhere, and his soul was no longer pacing the sidelines in wistful envy. His only thoughts were of her, and of them. The only time he spoke was to wish for more streams of hot water to flow over them like a waterfall from all directions. The steamy cascade cleansed, soothed, and rejuvenated them, as they lost themselves in the pleasures of the other.

While George had only dared to hope that Dawn would even be there that morning, he could never have imagined Sunday being any more spectacular than Saturday. But this day was already shaping up to be even better than the last. He had woken up to a stunning display of affection and flesh, she had given him the body he had always wanted, and then they had melted into each other through the hot steamy air. George was counting his blessings as often as he could. He wasn't going to mess this up, he swore.

By the time they finished toweling each other off from their soaking wet romp, (which threatened to start another) and headed back to George's room to get ready for Dawn's first venture into the outside world, it was already noon. George stopped short at the doorway when he noticed just how ridiculously messy his room was.

He entered by stepping over an old skateboard, a holdover from his days of trying to be cool, and began picking up piles of clothes and shoving them in his closet while simultaneously trying to hold his towel shut. Dawn entered behind him and helped by picking up his various action figures and collectibles and stashing them artistically around the room. She was careful to hold her towel close to her while she worked, but her repeated bending over was giving George the most delightful show of her toned legs and towel wrapped cleavage. She didn't seem to be trying to turn him on, it was just how she was, unconsciously sexy.

After it was clear that his closet was filled beyond what it was designed for, George was forced to reevaluate his plan of keeping everything out of sight. He needed a system, a seating chart for all his junk, something that would help him stay organized. But he didn't really feel like figuring all that out at the moment. Maybe this was a good time to use a wish. He had done it before, why not again? But why had the room returned to its hurricane like state after his wish?

"Hey Dawn, how come my wish for the room to fit the mood better wasn't permanent?"

"Because you wished it to fit the mood and that mood was not permanent. Once the mood changed, the room went back to its original state."

"Okay then, I wish the room to change back to when it fit our mood perfectly."

Tingle. She pouted, "Sorry George, that wish is not sexual enough."

"Huh? Didn't you already grant that wish before?"

"No George, forgive me, at the time there was a very romantically charged mood in the air. Your wish for it to fit the mood was to facilitate us having sex, and so was quite sexual enough for the wish to go forward. However, your current desires are not related to sex, only the sense that the room is dirty and you want it cleaned."

"Okay, then how do I word the wish so that it is sexual enough?

"Sorry George, I cannot help you with the formation of your wishes, as much as I would like too," she said apologetically.

George thought hard about how he could keep his room from looking like he was a shut-in. He had never cared up until he met Dawn, as there had never been a reason to. His mother was the only other person besides himself that ever dared venture into his room. But thanks to his new desire to take better care of himself and Dawn, he figured it was time to start living like normal human beings did, and not a rabid animal waiting for his cage to be cleaned. But he wasn't really sure how he wanted the room to look. Start small, he thought.

"Okay, how about this Dawn, I wish my clothes to be clean and pressed, to make me look as good to other women as possible. And that they smell fresh, with just a hint of whatever turns on the woman who smells it."

Tingle, flash. "Done," said Dawn happily. The clothes he had tried to pile up in his closet had been folded and arranged into small stacks. The room began to smell better immediately.

"Hey, not bad," he nodded smugly. Maybe this wishing thing wasn't so hard after all.

He turned his attention to the action figures scattered around his room that Dawn had begun to arrange so elegantly. "Could I wish for my collectibles to be arranged in a way that would give me an air of sophistication, rather than childishness?"

Tingle, "Yes, but you would have to add some sex in there somewhere."

"Well, don't women prefer sophistication over childishness?"

"Some do, many do not. It depends on the woman."

"Ah. Well, you're a woman, what do you prefer?"

"Whatever you like."

"Oh shit, right," remembered George, "what if I wanted them arranged in a way that would make the greatest percentage of woman more attracted to me?"

Tingle, "That ... could work."

"Okay, let's try that."

Flash. Almost all of his toys were gone, with only a handful scattered around his desk in an interesting battle. A few had been converted to bookends. His video games were lined along the bottom of it, almost completely hidden from sight. All but the most rare of his comics had disappeared. Those that were left had been framed and hung tastefully around the room. George was a bit surprised, he had expected that everything would have a place somewhere in his room.

"As it turns out, most women don't prefer to see dork doodads all over the place, huh?"

Dawn shrugged, "Sorry George, if it were just me, I would let you place them wherever you pleased. I quite like them." She picked up a robotic looking figurine and made a gesture like she was shooting at him.

"I know, you're one of the good ones." He looked around, expecting his things to be piled up in a corner somewhere, but they were nowhere in sight. "So where is the rest of my childhood?"

"The rest of your collectibles are in your closet. The comics are wrapped in plastic with cardboard backings, and the action figures have been secured in bubble wrap inside a large plastic box."

"Nice, how did you know to do all that?"

"From you. I was unaware that people took such care of their toys."

"Well, you wouldn't know it from the way I took care of them. But I'm only a casual collector, I'm not hardcore about it like some people."

He turned his attention to the bed. "This should be easy," he thought. He clapped his hands together in resolve. He was starting to get into the spirit of wishing.

"Okay, I wish the bed to be big, comfortable, and sexy lookin, so that it's worthy of facilitating sex with THE hottest babe, I've ever laid eyes on!"

Tingle, flash. "And who might that be?" Dawn giggled as she caressed the closest post of the new bed. It was a four-post once again, made of dark wood, with exquisite carvings running along the posts and frame, not unlike the ivory carving on the tar from which Dawn had sprung two nights before. Covering the soft looking mattress was a set of beautiful white sheets, with patterns resembling smoke. There were far more pillows than George would ever use thrust up against the head of the bed, but he imagined Dawn would find a use for them. The bed reached all the way to the ceiling where the fan had been removed, and large diaphanous curtains swooped down along the sides to provide some semblance of privacy for the action that would surely be taking place soon. It dominated the majority of his room though, and while it did fit, moving around would require crawling over the bed to get to anything.

"You like?" hinted Dawn, as she crawled onto the bed to give him a fantastic view of her body, her blue eyes sparkling up at him.

"Almost. It's just a bit large." George ran his hand along his chin as he tried to figure out a way to keep the bed as it was, but there just wasn't enough space in his small bedroom. "Man, I wish the room was big enough to be a killer sex pad, but there just isn't enough space."

Tingle, flash. The room suddenly became much larger, easily the size of his mother's master bedroom. The enormous bed fit snuggly against one wall.

George's mouth hit the floor as he surveyed the changes wrought by his unintentional wish. Along with his towel, which he had forgotten to hold closed.

Dawn giggled again, "Man, I wish my Master was naked!"

George realized his sudden nudity and took great effort to suppress the urge to cover up. Instead, he leaped onto the bed on top of Dawn and began tickling her everywhere.

"N-No no, stop!" She squealed, though she made no attempt to stand in his way. George let up for just a moment to grab a pillow, and Dawn quickly scrambled to do the same. Soon they were across from each other on the bed, with pillows poised to strike.

For some reason, George felt unwilling to strike her. Even with a pillow and for fun, hitting her didn't feel right. He dropped his pillow slowly like a gunslinger in surrender. Dawn eyed it closely, and once his hands were off of it, she smacked him good upside his head, then tackled him in a barrage of pillow and towel and breasts. George could only laugh at the betrayal, and let Dawn have her way with him. She quickly lost interest in pummeling him however, and shifted her focus towards tickling him, and finally kissing him.

She straddled him, pinned his wrists to the bed, and bounced triumphantly. "I win!" she beamed.

George took the opportunity to ogle her unbelievable body, and the view of her cleavage created by her bent position over top of him. "Are you sure? he mused. He pushed her forward with his knee, and craned up with his neck to reach the edge of her towel with his teeth. He yanked it down, prompting a squeal from Dawn, who let go of his wrists to cover herself.

"Hey! No fair! You have fewer parts to worry about!"

"Call it a draw?"

She eyed him suspiciously, "For now. We will continue this later, buster." She rolled off of him and fixed her towel.

George looked around the room some more. He noticed that with it's new size, the room looked rather stark. "Hey Dawn, what else could we do to this place?"

"Well, if it were my room, I would want to make it a bit more cozy. Maybe add some candles, a larger window with some nice curtains, and there a few other adjustments I would make here and there."

"That sounds really nice actually. Would you say that having those things in here would get you more in the mood to do it?"

"Nope, I already want to 'do it' all the time. Some smelly candles and more natural light are not going to get me anymore willing."

"Would it make other girls more willing?"

"-Some."

"I wish the room to fit your's, and those other girls you mentioned, general idea of a love-nest so that if I ever do bring one home, they'll feel that much more ready to make hot, passionate, sticky love with me."

Tingle, and flash. The room transformed once more. It was still large enough to fit his new bed, but his bookcase, desk, dresser, and end tables were now made of the beautiful dark wood furniture to match. There was also a new large wooden trunk at the foot of his bed. He noticed that the knobby waist-high bookcase that had been hidden in his closet was now sitting underneath the window, which had nearly doubled in width and had been framed by long curtains to match those on the bed. George was impressed.

"Now this, I could get used to," he said as he walked around the room without having to step over a pile of clothes, a feat that impressed him all on its own.

"You like?" asked Dawn from her perch at the foot of the bed.

"Hell yeah I do! You got good taste babe." He picked up his towel and wrapped it around himself once more. Looking around some more, he found a chromed pole extending from floor to ceiling near the center of the room. "What's this thing for?"

Dawn didn't answer. Instead, she leaped from the bed and swung her body around the pole. She pulled off a few athletic and sexy moves before landing next to it. She rubbed her whole body up and down like it was a giant phallus and smiled seductively at George.

"Okay, that answers that question." George turned towards his new room and frowned.

"Is something wrong George? Is it not what you wished for?"

"Well ... yes. It's great Dawn, really. I was just thinking about how I am going to explain this to my mom." He looked down at his new body, "All of this."

Dawn continued to playfully spin around the pole, like she was born on one, "If you prefer George, you do not have to explain anything."

"What do you mean?"

"When it comes to protecting our safety and our anonymity, my powers are no longer restrained. I can make it so that nobody will think it odd that you look different than before. Or if you prefer, I can make people believe you have always looked this way. As for you room, I can keep it looking this way when it is just you and me, but when anyone else comes in, it will look as it did before. Well, maybe not exactly like it did before."

"So not even my mom will notice the changes?"

"Correct, unless you want her too."

"What about the outside of the house? Won't she be a little curious to know why the second floor is suddenly larger than the first?"

"The house will look no different from outside, even in its current state."

"Nice!"

She giggled, "In order for me to properly blend into my environment and avoid suspicion from your wishes, Genie servants are allowed to do almost anything. This was put into place long ago, to allow Masters to live their lives without fear of drawing unwelcome attention from those who would seek to disrupt our arrangement."

George had been watching her dance on the pole in a half-daze, wondering how her towel was staying on despite her movements, but his attention snapped back to their conversation at the mention of reprisals. "Disrupt our arrangement? Who would want to do that?" he asked.

"In my time there were all sorts of people who would murder entire nations to get their hands on a Genie servant. Not to mention, plenty of magical beings who would seek to use us for their own ends, or even attempt to steal me from you outright. If I am to be your ideal companion, then I must not attract attention from those who would do us, or the people you love, harm."

"You mean, there are other magical beings out there, besides Genies?"

Dawn pulled herself onto the pole and hung upside down for a second, "In my time, yes, but now I am not so sure. Magic of all kinds was a much more accepted notion than it is today. This could mean one of two things: either they have gone so far underground that their existence has faded into legend, or they have disappeared entirely."

George's mind raced with the possibilities. Dragons, and demons, and witches?! Could they all really exist out there somewhere? "Can you, like, detect them somehow?"

"No George, I am sorry," she said simply as she enveloped the pole between her towel encased globes. It had somehow morphed into strapless towel dress he had seen a woman wear on the beach once. "I could only do so if one of them intended you harm. At the moment we are quite safe. However, if I come across any, I would be able to detect that someone was hiding something magical, though I might not be able to determine how right away. If you like, I will keep you informed of anything odd, just in case."

"Um ... okay," he said dumbly. He wasn't sure what he would do if they encountered a magical being in any case. She continued to dance despite the more serious nature of the conversation. George was becoming increasingly distracted as he watch her long graceful legs twist around the pole. She had never mentioned she could dance too.

He shook his head sharply in an effort to snap himself back into reality. "Hey, stop that! I'm trying to get us out the door!" he said in mock agitation.

She stopped and giggled. "Aww, are you sure you do not want to take advantage of some of the opportunities your new room offers?"

He approached her and kissed her gently on her full lips. "You have no idea how good that sounds to me. But I can't wish for food right?"

Tingle. "Not unless it is for a sexual purpose, or for your protection."

"Well, I can't figure out a way to use instant pudding for protection. As for the sexual ... we'll get back to that," he grinned.

George started going through his clothes looking for something, anything, that would fit him. None of his clothes had shrunk with him and he was becoming a bit worried that he would have to send Dawn out alone in order to get him a change of clothes. After throwing a few sets of now ridiculously over-sized board shorts on the floor, Dawn suggested that he go in the buff. But he laughed her off.

"George, if I may, I noticed from the pictures that you are similar in size to your father. Perhaps there are still some of his clothes around that would fit you."

"Um ... yeah ... yeah, you're probably right. I'll go look." He marched off to his mother's closet.

Sure enough, in the back and wrapped in plastic, was a row of his father's old clothes. As George looked through them he found himself bombarded by memories. They came flooding into his mind in a wash of bittersweet associations. He could remember the time his father wore that t-shirt during one of his ball games, or the night he wore that tie as he walked through the front door and kissed George's mother like his life depended on it.

Eventually, he settled on a pair of black trousers made of some very thin material, and a white buttoned-up shirt. He could roll the sleeves up and leave it untucked. It would be passable in the heat until he could get some new clothes. Unfortunately, he would have to go without underwear, which wasn't something he was accustomed to doing. He looked at himself in a mirror and he realized that Dawn had been right. He did look amazingly like his father. His hair was slightly longer, and quite a bit more shaggy. He had inherited his mother's slightly narrower jawline and her large sensitive eyes. But the resemblance was still uncanny.

The one thing George felt he was missing was the calm confidence his Father always exuded. It wasn't the overbearing cockiness that some men put out, merely the self-assurance of a man who knew who he was and had nothing to prove. That confidence was something George had always tried to emulate, but after his Father's death he retreated further and further into his own little world and lost whatever budding self-assurance he might have had.

When he arrived back in his room, he was treated to the amazing sight of Dawn trying to decide what to wear. She switched magically between one ensemble to the next so quickly that George had trouble telling them apart. When Dawn noticed he was watching her she slowed down, and took the time to pose sexily for him so that he could give her the yay or nay.

After flipping between what seemed like dozens of outfits, some of which were more like costumes or lingerie, they settled on a tight sky blue tank top with a lacy white one underneath, and pair of very small and clingy cargo shorts that hugged her amazing ass in a firm grip. Her hair fell in a thick single braid down to the middle of her back with a light blue bow at the end. Her cute belly-button was left exposed. She had to pout heavily to leave the bra behind, but George allowed it as long as there wasn't too much cleavage. The result left her breasts swaying and jiggling freely with every bouncy step, so much so that George wondered what was sexier, her cleavage, or the promise of what lay beneath.

Before leaving, Dawn produced a purse to match her outfit and placed one of her books inside it. George didn't see which one, but was pleased that Dawn was already doing things on her own. He wasn't sure what she was capable of outside their magical bond but he was certain that he wanted her to have as much freedom as her nature would allow.

Dawn stepped into the hot muggy midday sun and stopped to absorb the sensations. She drew in a deep breath through her nose and savored it like she was on a cooking show. George watched as she slipped her sandals off and leaped barefoot into the grass of the front lawn and spun around. He imagined what it must be like for her, to feel the breeze, the sun, and the grass for the first time. She was so excited at the wealth of new experiences that she could barely contain herself and they hadn't even left the yard yet.

"How long have you wanted to do that babe?" he asked half laughing.

She stopped her spinning and stumbled just a bit as she caught her balance, "Since yesterday morning. I debated going outside while you slept, but I wanted you to be here for it."

"I'm glad you waited," he said softly. Her child-like delight in the simplest things made him look at the world around him in a whole new light. "It's like you were born yesterday."

"I feel like I've been born everyday," she said as she flashed him her dazzling smile.

They climbed into George's car, an old four-door sedan with the bumper falling off, and headed out into the world. Dawn was a blur of activity as she examined the entire contents of the car, including everything in the glove compartment, the center console, underneath her seat, and whatever she could find in the back seat, before turning her attention to the various buildings they passed as well as the other cars.

They passed a mini-mall with a large two-story shop on the end that looked awfully bizarre even to George, who had driven by it numerous times.

Dawn asked, "George, what is that place?"

"I'm not sure, I've never been in there. I guess they sell kinda obscure stuff, like antiques and old books and whatnot."

She bounced in her seat, "Wow, can we go there sometime George?"

George looked at her oddly. "Why would you want to go there?"

She shrugged, "Why would you not? It is not far from your home. Why not explore?"

George was struck by the simplicity of her argument. Why hadn't he visited the strange shop? "I guess there wasn't anything in there I really needed."

"People rarely need such oddities, even in my time. I suppose I do not really need to go, but I have never seen such a place and I think it would be fun."

Dawn looked at him imploringly, he looked back with a raised eyebrow. Finally, she folded her fingers together and pleaded cutely, "Pulleeeeeeeeeees..."

"Okay, okay!" He said laughing at her comical expression. "On our way back we'll go look at some weird stuff."

"Yay!" she squealed.

She bounced up and down in her seat excitedly while her breasts jiggled underneath her shirts. George was mesmerized by the sight until he heard a car honk at him as he started drifting into another lane. He quickly righted the car.

"S-sorry bout that," said George embarrassed.

Dawn smirked and said, "George, were you staring at my boobs?"

George blushed, "Maybe, a little."

She leaned over to him and nuzzled his neck while she caressed his broad chest.

"W-what are you doing, Dawn?"

"Punishing you for staring when you should be touching," she whispered. She slid her hand down to his thigh while she licked his ear. George's cock sprang to attention and strained the thin material of his slacks.

George struggled to keep both hands on the wheel and his concentration on the road, but her proximity to his throbbing hard on was pulling his attention south. Her mouth on his ear and neck was driving him wild.

Once they were stopped at a busy intersection, George let himself enjoy her assault. Then, just as he thought she was about to reach for his member, she instead pointed to the car in front of them.

"Hey George, check out that license plate."

"Huh?" said George as he snapped back to reality. Directly in front of them was a jeep filled with several girls in bathing suits, obviously on their way to the beach. The plate read: U WISH.

It took him a second to understand what it meant beyond its initial wording. Dawn's hands had moved away from his crotch and wrapped around his neck. She giggled and kissed his temple before moving back to her seat.

George playfully pushed her. "You little punk," he said as he tickled her with one hand. She laughed and pleaded for relief, but she made no attempt at stopping him. "I am so getting back at you for that one."

"Promises, promises," mused Dawn.

"Did you actually change the license plate?"

She playfully gasped, "How dare you assume that I would use my powers in such a frivolous manner. A coincidence, I assure you."

"Yeah right," said George. "Okay, seriously, we need to find a way to explain you to my mom. Any ideas?"

"Could we not just say that I am your new girlfriend?" Dawn's attention seemed to have reverted back to the outside world as they drove on, but toned down her enthusiasm for a moment, sensing that George wanted to have a serious conversation.

"We could. Actually, we will, but I was thinking more in terms of the fact that you have no home, no family, no friends, no job. I mean, if anyone asks how we met, how will we answer?"

"Hmm, well I can come up with most of my background on my own, as part of my power to blend in with my environment. I can't create people though, so my explanation will have to include my lack of family and friends. As for a job, well, I don't have one of those..."

"What about a driver's license and a birth certificate and all that?"

"I can provide myself with those as well, however, I will need a surname in order to form a complete picture."

"Hmm," thought George. "You can't come up with one of those on your own?"

"No, sorry George, that responsibility lies with you."

George thought hard as he ran through a number of names in his head. "We could always go with a normal sounding name like Smith or Anderson, or Johnsen. Like any of those?"

Dawn looked less than thrilled about them. "I will like any name you pick for me George, as long as you like it."

"No, no. It has to be something we both like. It's not everyday you get to pick your own name you know. Are there any names that you like?"

"Well, I haven't heard that many yet. I did like the name you gave me in the fantasy yesterday."

"What, Honeywell?" he laughed. "Babe, you aren't a Bond girl. Well, not yet anyway."

Tingle. "Oh my," she giggled. "Well, at least it is not Pussy Galore. But you are right, we should find something less ... suggestive."

George tried hard to think of a name that would be interesting but not contrived, but nothing grabbed him as perfect. He conceded defeat as he pulled into the parking lot of the supermarket. He would have to think of one soon though. His mother was coming home on Monday.

"George, I like your name. Could I not be Dawn Everhart?" she smiled widely.

"We'd have to get married first, and you would have to put up with people calling you smellyfart," laughed George

"Okay," she shrugged, and climbed out of the car.

George lingered for a moment as the meaning of what she had said sunk in. Marriage? Under normal circumstances he would have thought she was trying to make fun of him. But when it came to Dawn, he had a feeling she was completely serious.

He got out of the car slowly. Dawn met him at his door, and as the two strode towards the entrance she reached for his hand. George took it without hesitation. Though it was small, its gentle pressure made him feel confidant and strong. He walked very tall.

The cool rush of the air conditioning hit George pleasantly as he passed through the supermarket's sliding doors. He entered first, pushing the cart, with Dawn close behind. She was so enthralled by the mechanized doors however, that she just had to go back through them again.