The house was quiet. Two men had called upon her father to discuss a major transaction at the bank, where he was a director. The men were all sitting ...n the front porch, sipping tea and talking business. Thad, as he frequently did, sat with his father, listening.She didn't recognize one of the men, but the other was Mr. Randolph, a long-time friend of her father, Phillip Markham. Gwen was oblivious to the business meeting, however. Her eye was on the weather, and her mind was daydreaming about. ”“I’m looking at the sexiest one of all. I’d like to go but I’ll stay home and nurse my cold. Maybe you have a different come in mind,” Dad joked.“You’re so bad and maybe I will have a nice cum, or two!” Mom smiled, playfully slapping his shoulder. “Your supper is in the fridge, you just have to heat it up. I’ll grab a slice of pizza or a burger later.”“With the sexy clothes you’re wearing, you aught to heat things up just fine.”“That’s the plan,” Mom smiled at me.“Rick, keep an eye on our girl. I looked and felt fake. The sword was real, an antique claymore one of my distant Scots ancestors had carried in 1746 at Culloden. It had been antique even then but its edge was still dangerously sharp. Making the wooden sheath for it had been the hardest part of the costume. Carrying it was difficult. Forty-seven inches (1.2 metres) of steel is awkward to sling. Eventually I positioned it diagonally across my back. Drawing it from there was impossible without unslinging it first but so what? I. One look at his wife stopped him in his tracks. Helen was dressed and was applying the finishing touches to a light make up as he walked in. Her dress was virginal white, the cut was anything but. The low scooped neckline showed off her majestic cleavage almost to the nipples. He was sure she was wearing a bra from the way her tits stood high and proud, but Tony could see her nipples against the fabric. The dress clung to her shape, nipping in tight at the waist and flaring across her hips,.
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