When peter returned I was showered and dressed and as he was putting his briefcase away he noticed that his magazines seem to be a little out of order... he wondered to himself if I had been looking through them. To test his theory over the next few days he gives me opportunity to see what I do and sure enough he notices that a couple specific magazines are always out of place. Peter checks the magazine latter and sees that it was open to a story about an Uncle spanking his niece. During this. "I'm sure, I'm so sure! I just talked to him and they mean it. Once we calm down, we need to find a lawyer. Trout said his dad will know someone; he'll ask tonight." "Trout is so very handy, and connected." Ryan grinned. "Oh, my God. I can't believe it! Have you told the guys yet?" "Well, I tried to call you first but you weren't at your desk and I didn't want to leave a message. So I called Nate and told him. He's going to tell Mitch; God, I wish I could see his face. Both of their faces.". Who wouldn’t have? And of course she caught me looking. Now it was 400 lines. “Oh, dear,” she cried, as I was writing the 152nd line, “my stockings are falling down. I can’t pull them up without showing a good deal of my bare thighs. You promise you won’t look, don’t you?” Well, you get the idea. By the time I reached the 231st line, I had accumulated enough detention to last me well beyond the heat death of the universe. “Miss,” I pointed out, “it would take me 3,400,389,000,111 millenia to do. This goes for my wife also , she is ready to start working on her tan as soon as it's warm enough to lay out by our pool nude. It's only the first week in March but we have had several days already in the high 70's. Saturday I was working in the back yard raking up the last of the fallen leaves from last fall. I was on the back side of the pool when my wife called to me. I looked up and saw her holding a cold beer for me. I dropped the rake and headed toward her. She was on the deck and when.
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