..... are you there?" I heard him softly call through the door. He remembered my name from when Rob called me out earlier. Oh God, what should I do, s...ould I call back or remain silent.I chose the latter. Rob later on told me that he'd only just come back from parking the car in the street, when he saw the guy already cautiously moving along to our door. He'd watched him softly knocking on the door and then calling, then, having got no reply, had seen him go and peer through the window. Rob had. The nerves which are at my fingertip used to be on the circumference of my finger. When I would touch something with the tip of my finger I would get the feeling that my finger was inside the object. Which is cool and all but weird. My brain is also adjusting for the shorter distance involved. It’s true your brain keeps track of how long your fingers are. It finds it disturbing when it knows that the tip of your finger should be touching something but is not.In other news, Scrivener my writing. Both were well used, but that wasn’t a problem. Tommy and Gerome moved them into the smaller store room of the gym. They in effect converted it to the beginnings of a kitchen. Tommy also had several kitchen cabinet units from two different houses. He helped Gerome install those.“It took a day to teach Gerome how to light the damn pilot lights. That boy is the least mechanical male human being I ever met. I’m pretty sure he can do it though,” Tommy said after his day of hard work. He seemed to. "Look, Walter. Don't you like watching your mother's pussy stretching around another boy's prick?"Walter was watching, still jacking on his own prick, watching for the moment when he could bury its throbbing stiffness deep inside his mother's bowels. Patty grimaced, feeling Henry's big prick stretching her pussy, the glistening walls of her cunt sucking and gripping around its breadth. She clutched Henry's shoulders tightly, wiggling and thrusting her pink-flushed ass cheeks, making his stiff.