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My wife had mentioned that her sister had been dieting, but this hadn't really registered. I was very surprised when I saw Emma. Instead of the very overweight woman I was accustomed to, I saw a younger, even prettier version of my wife. She had the same hourglass figure. Her ass looked simply incredible in the jeans she was wearing to show off her new body. She was rather shorter than my wife, barely over five feet. She looked so petite and gorgeous now, and I had trouble believing this was the same dumpy woman I had known for so long. She wore a loose top that left her midriff bare, and gave anyone who cared to look a generous view of her luscious breasts whenever she had to bend over (which was frequently, given that there were a lot of young children running about at the party who needed attending to). I found myself feeling guilty over the hard-on my sister-in-law was inspiring in me.The party ended and we went home."Doesn't my sister look great?" my wife asked. I muttered. “Hungry?”“I ... remember food.”He made an effort not to wince at the plaintive tone of loss in her voice. “That’s an ... interesting response. Do you not eat? Out there?”“When I can. I found some berries once but they made me sick.”“I see.” Logan tried not to dwell on the horrific implications of the word “once”. “Well, there is more than enough for two. If you want.”“Why am I here? What do you want?”Tension thrummed in her voice. Logan feared she might bolt for the exit at any moment. He pointed at the meat cooking on a spit and dripping sizzling fat into the flames. “My name is Logan and I want to eat dinner. Would you like to come sit by the fire and join me?”She looked around, peering into the shadows. “Where is your Master?”“That would be Beauty,” he replied as casually as possible. “And for the record, I call no one Master. Never have. Never will. I am a free man. Beauty is my ... she is ... a friend.”“Your friend,” she repeated. “A demon is your ... friend.”Logan could hear.
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