I should have been on guard as soon as I heard her laughing.

It was a woman's laughter, and not my wife's. I heard it as soon as I'd come home and closed the front door. I hadn't seen anyone else's car in the driveway. I steeled myself for whatever crap I was walking into, put down my bag and went into the living room.

It saw 'Jim,' and across from 'him,' a woman I didn't recognize. They were sitting in the living room, he in the easy chair, her on the couch. She had a glass of wine in her hand and was laughing at something Jim had said.

When she saw me her eyes narrowed, and her lips curled into a strange smile. She looked me up and down, sizing me up. "So this is the guy, huh?" She said to Jim, not turning her eyes away from mine. She had an accent I couldn't place, wore jeans and a pink blouse.

I looked away from her stare, feeling strangely embarrassed.

"Yeah, that's him. That's her 'husband,'" 'Jim' said. My wife, under the disguise, insisting on using the third person to talk about herself was really starting to bother me.

"Hmmm," she said. "Interesting."

"Well," I said, "who is this, 'Jim'?", waving my hand at the woman. She was pretty, a nice body. She was about the same build as my wife.

"This is Stasha. She's part of your wife's big Halloween plans."

"What part?," I said. 'Jim' offered me a glass of wine. I shouldn't have taken it from him, but I was tired and frustrated and to be honest, angry at how far all this was going. I'd started to almost accept all this insane crap my wife was doing. She'd been taking all this much further than I'd ever expected.

"You'll see," Stasha said. She grinned then, right at me, her eyes looking straight into mine, and again I looked away. There was something about her that gave me the creeps. She was pretty but she was a predator. That was the feeling her smile gave me.

"Listen, Stasha, why don't you go upstairs and put on the costume, so this guy here can see where this is going."

"Whatever you say, 'Jim.'" She said 'his' name with an air of sarcasm, like they were in on some joke together. Stasha put down her glass of wine and got up off the couch, with careful movements, like a dancer. She padded off out of the living room and up the stairs, silently.

I sat down on the couch, taking her place. I could feel the heat where she'd been sitting. I took a gulp of the wine, and felt some of my frustration dissolve as the alcohol warmed me.

I looked at Jim, and he looked back at me. Somewhere behind those eyes and that masculine face, my wife was having the time of her life. She was determined not to break character, not even once. And the disguises she was wearing, the disguises over the disguises, had fooled me, everyone in her office, our neighbor, and at this point, god knows who else. The thought flashed over my mind that I didn't know if Stasha knew 'Jim' was really a woman.

"I bet you're wondering where the hell all this is going." 'Jim's words interrupted my thoughts.

"Of course I am." I took another gulp of the wine, finishing the glass. I really shouldn't have. "Now there's a stranger I've never met in our house. I don't even know who that is. Do you trust her?"

"Absolutely. And so should you."

"Why?"

"Well," 'Jim' said, grinning and motioning behind me, at the stairs, with a nod of his head. "Look at her."

I turned around, and almost gasped. Standing there at the bottom of the stairs was my wife.

"Hey honey," she said. Or, really, Stasha said. My head was starting to spin.

The woman who looked like my wife sauntered over and sat down next to me. She was wearing the same pink blouse.  She smiled at me, and it took my breath away how much it was just like my wife, how she smiled. She tilted her head just so, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, just so.

"Pretty good, right?" 'Jim' said.

"Yeah...."  Was all I could manage to get out. The woman with my wife's face, mannerisms, everything, giggled with my wife's giggle.

"Well, I hope so, I was trained by the master *him*self, over the there," she said, motioning at 'Jim.' I looked over at Jim, as he had a sip of his drink. He smiled back at her, the two of them sharing some private joke.

"Why don't I let you two get to know each other a bit. I'm sure you wouldn't mind having some quality time with your wife, right? It's been a while."

'Jim' got up, and padding up the stairs himself, left me alone with Stasha -- with my wife, or at least as good an impersonation of her as I'd seen yet.

She put her hand on my leg, and I didn't flinch. It felt almost normal. I took another gulp of the wine.

"I bet you're a little frustrated by all this, aren't you? I'm sorry honey, really. But it's all in good fun, I promise."

I was mesmerized -- the foreign accent I'd heard earlier was gone, and really, there was nothing I could see or hear or detect at all that this wasn't really my wife. This Stasha person my real wife had found was as good a mimic as herself, playing herself... the pink blouse and the jeans fit her perfectly. I realized late that they'd been taken out of my wife's closet. I remembered buying her the blouse.

"Why does it have to be so complicated?," I asked. Despite part of me knowing this was just another element of this whole crazy plan she was executing, and this was a stranger, I started to feel like I could actually talk to this person, like she would give me the answers my real wife, upstairs in her male persona, was refusing to reveal.

"In the end, honey, I promise you'll see it was worth it. It's something that really means a lot to me, and I know you love me enough to see it through to the end."

Here I was, talking with some strange woman who my wife had trained to act like a perfect copy of her, and she was talking like she really was my wife...

She moved closer to me, I could feel her body's warmth.

"I'm not a stranger, honey. Look at me. You can trust me." Her eyes were beautiful. I'd always loved my wife's eyes.

Before I knew it, her lips were on mine. As insane as this might sound, even her lips tasted like my wife's lips. I put down the glass.

My hands went to her sides, and hers started to unbutton my shirt. It was the wine. Well, mostly the wine. I'd had a lot of it very fast.

The kissing turned more passionate. I felt her hands go for my belt, and then her fingers unzipping my fly.

Of course, I was already hard. Her hands pried my dick out from my pants, and gripped me. She started to stroke. "Wow, she cooed, You're already so hard."

She scooted back on the couch, and before I knew it she had her mouth on me. The warmth of her felt amazing. I leaned back on the couch, watching my wife's head bob up on down on my cock.

From where I sat on the couch, I could see the stairs. And then a woman's foot appearing on the top step, then stepping slowly down -- her legs, in a pair of jeans, and then her waist, and then the whole of her came into view, another copy of my wife. 'Jim' masquerading as my wife. Well, my wife masquerading as 'Jim' masquerading as my wife... 'she' wore a blue blouse, loosely buttoned.

As 'she' came down the steps, and saw what was happening, she didn't look surprised. She looked turned on.

"Can I get in on this?" 'Jim' said, in my wife's voice.

The woman sucking me took her mouth off me, and gripped my cock again in her hand. Between strokes she said "You bet," over her shoulder, and turned back to me. My wife's face grinned a strange grin. "Kneel," she said.

I obeyed, slipping off the couch onto the carpet, getting on my knees. She never let her grip let go of my dick.

'Jim', with my wife's body in that blue blouse, got down behind her own copy, kneeling on her knees, facing me, her crotch up against 'Stasha's ass. As 'Jim' reached around and started to undo Stasha's jeans, Stasha took me again in her mouth. I put a hand on her head and grunted in pleasure, as I watched what was happening in front of me.

'Jim' managed to undo Stasha's pants, and pull them down around her knees. Underneath Stasha was wearing pink panties. Then 'Jim', facing me, undid 'his' pants, and pulled them down. That's when I realized what we were going to do. I saw a big bulge in 'Jim's' panties. 'Jim' hadn't worn a complete disguise. He has my wife's face and body, but 'his' own cock, the one I'd seen get hard and come, was sticking out of 'her' crotch. I watched as 'she' reached into her panties, and gently pulled it out.

She grunted in pleasure, and gave herself a stroke. I could have sworn I saw the thing grow a little before my eyes.

She looked up from her dick in her hands, my beautiful wife of many years, and she smiled at me, and said, "let's fuck me together."

I watched as she pulled down the panties of her twin beneath her, positioned her dick at her own labia, and gently pushed inside.

The woman below with my wife's face and body grunted in pleasure, and my dick popped out her mouth. "You feel amazing," she said, over her shoulder at her own twin.

"You do too." I couldn't believe how perfectly the same their voices sounded. It was listening to someone talk to themselves.

The woman beneath me with my wife's face and body put my dick back in her mouth, as I watched in stunned amazement as 'Jim,' identically disguised, pushed all of himself, inch my inch, inside Stasha. I was in a three-way with two copies of my wife, two dicks between us.

'Jim' starting thrusting inside Stasha, and I was impressed that the woman below me was able to keep my dick in her mouth.  From the sounds she made I knew she was enjoying herself, and between that and her skill in sucking, it wasn't long before I came, little drops of cum she couldn't swallow dribbling beneath her. I almost fell back on the floor in exhaustion, catching myself on my elbows, as I continued to watch the scene in front of me, a perfect copy of my wife with a dick screwing a perfect copy of my wife with a vagina doggy-style, both of them moaning identical moans of pleasure--

With more thrusting, and after a long build-up, 'Jim' came, and Stasha beneath 'him' a moment later, and the two of them stayed together a for a minute, catching their breath. Then 'Jim' pulled out, and the two of them collapse side-by side on the couch.

I'd gotten my dick back in my pants, pulled them up, and was sitting in the easy chair, looking at the scene, numb and stunned by how turned on the whole thing made me.

The two of them giggled and kissed. 'Jim's' dick was back to its normal size, almost, jutting out from 'his' pants. They looked back at me.

"Isn't our husband a lucky guy?" Jim said, in the blue blouse, in my wife's voice.  "Pretty damn lucky," Stasha answered.

I picked my wine glass off the table and took another gulp.

There was a long pause. 'Jim' looked at Stasha.

"Should we tell him?," 'Jim' said.

"Oh, definitely," Stasha said. She looked at me. The strange smile was back, shining through the perfect recreation of my wife's face.

"You like surprises, don't you?" 'Jim' said.

I squeaked out, aware something was wrong, "no."

"Well, that's a shame," Stasha said. She reached under her shirt, and I saw that the end of the mask she was wearing ended there. It was nice to see my wife's face, and I was sad I'd have to see the real Stasha's face again, and hear that strange accent.

She pulled, and pulled, peeling off the latex disguise. Then in one last tug the whole thing came off her hand --

In *his* hand. Under the disguise, it was Jim.

I dropped the wine glass. It hit the carpeted floor with a thud.

"Ha ha," he said. In 'his' voice. "Got ya."

I looked from one of them to the other. The person with my wife's face, with a now-flaccid dick poking out of her pants, just smiled at me. And next to her, 'Jim,' grinning, having just had his vagina fucked, with my wife's narrow waist and tits and hips, and his damned masculine head on top.

"Then," I managed to croak, my surprise getting the better of me, my world spinning, me pointing at the woman with the penis, "You're really Stasha?"

They both started laughing, big belly laughs, one of them my wife's voice, the other Jim's. They really thought it was a hoot. The one I'd thought was Jim, with the blue blouse, gently tucked 'her' dick back into her jeans and zipped up the fly. She leaned forward, her hands on her knees, and said in my wife's voice, "Honey, neither of us is Stasha."

She gave 'Jim' a kiss on the cheek, and stood up. "Well, I'll be in the guest bedroom if anyone needs anything. See you both in the morning!" And just like that, as if nothing strange were going on, she walked up the stairs. My eyes followed her as she padded up the steps. I heard the door close.

When I turned back to 'Jim,' he was finished putting on the mask of my wife's face. With a few final tugs, the illusion was complete again.  'She' stood up.

"Well, honey, I have an early morning tomorrow. I'd better start getting ready for bed. But I'd love to try that again tonight, if you still have the stamina."

She went up the stairs, and I was left alone in the living room. I stared at the wall for a moment. Then I looked over my wine glass, on the carpet. I picked it up and put it on the coffee table. I picked up the wine bottle, and poured myself a tall one.