Home where the heart resides and all that. But it's damn near an homage to the former Soviet style of living. Almost but not quite. Not quite but clos... enough! At least there's no granny parked in a cot in the kitchen. Keeps me from charging down the streets in open revolt.So you wonder now, good lord, you live in a one bedroom dump, with just the one room that has a door that closes. Why does the kid sleep in there? Why do you and the lovely have the bed set up in the dining nook?Isn't it. He was 6’2” tall, with a well-maintained gym body. He had a brown skin tone and sexy mustache and beard. He was wearing a shirt and a lungi.He welcomed me to the warehouse. He told me that he was so happy and surprised that it was me and he liked me from the day I joined the company. I was happy to hear that and went with him.The place was full of raw materials. He took me to his desk which was in a corner. The desk was wide which could occupy many items. He had a computer and some files and. " Who was that?" Some old girlfriend," he replied, dismissively. "She's leaving town." At this time of night?" the taller, blonde girl asked. "Is she in trouble?" You don't know the half of it," George grunted dismissively as he discarded his dressing gown and strode towards them. He grabbed the brunette by the waist and kissed her on the lips. "Now, I believe we were in the middle of a casting session. I can make you two girls famous and rich," he boasted.The girls gave giggly laughs. "You've. Who was it called the eyes the window of the soul? If that was true, he had a very attractive soul. And he controlled his eyes. I don’t mind a guy looking at me, but I much prefer that he looks at my eyes when we’re talking, rather than my bosom. I mean, I’m not spectacular in the chest region, but I know there’s enough – I’m a C cup – to be interesting to any hetero male. Conversation. Yeah. Once I got him talking it was obvious he was quite knowledgeable, with a quick wit. But he didn’t.