Sun-tanned, wet T-shirts, cuties. Memories flooding back.After a while, I noted that the noise was abating, so I stepped back in to hand out more soft...drinks and clean up the conference room, some. They started heading back outside, but the cutest of the bunch stayed back for a moment, looking at me. She said, “Mister Don, we never asked: whose planes are those -- the ones we’re washing and waxing?”I said, “Teresa, isn’t it?” She nodded, so I continued, “Those birds are the latest purchases by. The window is open, so, if I could get up there I could reach the balcony door latch,” She told me.I said we didn’t and started to walk away, then, I had an idea. Dad’s diving spear gun, cord, rope and a rope ladder all came out of Dad’s storage. I told her I would resolve the problem.I fired the spear across the balcony with the line attached; used that to haul the rope up, and finally, pulled the rope ladder in position. I was on the balcony in moments and into Cass’s flat.I pressed the door. He hoped that doing that was on her to-do list.Monday because of the rainy weather had Pat back at the sports complex to do his walking. This time he was listening to a book written by another author. He had read a number of books written by this author and enjoyed them all. What was different this time was that the main character wasn’t the long time older male police detective the author had written most of his prior books about. This time the main character was an experienced younger female. I watched as she slipped two, then three fingers inside herself. Still pulling on her nipples, pinching and squeezing them as she did. I sat mesmerized as she began pummeling her cunt in a furious attempt to get herself off. That, or cause her hand to totally disappear somewhere up inside herself. And I wasn't at all sure which one was really happening."You like it when I sometimes squirt too don't you Brad?" she asked the camera.Though I found myself nodding my head in eager agreement as.
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