Dale, my seventeen-year old brother and I bunked-in together and Lisa, of course, got her own room. Dad fixed the rec room so Russell had a place to s...ay when he came home, so it all worked out.Lisa had become the ideal stepsister. We were the same age, both in the same grade, tenth, and even took many of the same classes, we both were good students and on the Principal's List gradewise. Lisa was also pretty, like her mother. And, since she had progressed in her teens, had become very pretty,. At night, if everyone's lights are out, fine, you've got privacy, but if they have lots of lights on, it lights up our yard pretty good.One of my longstanding fantasies has been to have sex outside. Not to be deliberately seen, but just to spice things up with a bit of risk. I never expected to realize that fantasy because (1) my wife and I take the marriage vow of "forsaking all others" seriously, and (2) Cecily is the most modest person this side of the Victorian era. (That's not to say she's. She had flirted with me before, as most drunks do, but on this night I decided she was just right for the fucking... I mean picking. I told her I'd give her a lift after close if she wanted it, and that was all it took. for the next 3 hours she sat there driving me nuts with all her sob story bullshit, and as a good bartender, I gave her that crutch she needed. I also dropped a bunch of seeds, "oh your such a cutie" " oh if you were my girl, I'd take care of you" bla bla bla. I don't. “Come back then. I’ll try contacting them,” I texted, then turned to Ross.“The girls aren’t at Marcy’s place. Greg says a neighbour told him they left a couple hours ago,” I explained, my voice audibly quivering.“Left? To go where?” my friend asked.“No idea. I’m going to call Julia and find out.”I called my fiancée’s cell phone. After two tries both went to voicemail, so I tried texting instead.“Where are you? What’s going on? Greg says you’re not at Marcy’s place,” I tapped out in a mix of.
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