He didn't know that I could feel his hands as they reached forward to brush debris and dust from my naked limbs. I stood before him as he had created ...e: a life-sized stone figure, proud and naked. The only covering to my charms was my stone hand across my pubis, a modest and eternal shield. Most of my long stone hair lay across my back. The ends were just shy of hiding my proud and firm derriere. One clump of hair curled sweetly round my left breast drawing attention to the perfection he had. The bathroom? Or maybe she was upstairs. Then he heard it, a soft moan coming from the room on his right. That had once been the dining room, but he had converted it into a bedroom when his grandmother first became ill. Now the nurses used it for naps. He heard another moan. Excitement flushed through his body as he thought he recognized Valerie’s voice. Stepping as softly as possible, Greg moved to the doors on his right. The dining room had elegant french doors leading into it, and Greg had. I suddenly realised that Angela, the little girl who my mother was supposed to be babysitting in the pictures was none other than her own brother!"No, there must be some mistake, she wouldn't ever dress me up even though I would have liked to, let alone you, - you must have imagined it!"Angela curled her lips as I began to look at the pictures more closely, realising that they covered a number of years in a child's development, the earlier ones typical of an unhappy, sulky, tearful boy hating. The Dutch and Spanish guy where also near and after we got more “physically acquainted” in the afternoon we had more up close conversations with each other with friendly body touching, a hand resting on my bare ass, a kiss now and then. After having a few glasses of Cava the topics got hotter and also other men approached me to make “indecent proposals”. The way I dressed was like an open door to freely say and ask whatever was on their horny mind. I never felt insulted or treated without.