I included a dime besides each so you get a feel for the scale of the creatures. The card is for my daughter, who’s in charge of the Walker Institut... in Philadelphia. She’d appreciate getting a copy of your story before it appears tomorrow morning so she can prepare for the media onslaught it’s likely to unleash.”“Are these real? How did you get them?”“I constructed a crude mold using a quick-acting foam insulation which someone turned into sculptures for me. He also carefully painted them. 'Urgh, you're right. I'm horrible at this.''At what? Laying under your boss?'She shook her head. 'No. I mean yes. Oh, I don't know. I'm so totally terrible at all this stuff.''What stuff?''Oh, y'know - talking.'David laughed, the movement causing his penis, still lodged deliciously inside her, to flex. Her eyes widened. 'So where did we come down on the whole me moving thing?''Oh, that. Yeah don't - if you don't mind.' She looked up him. Well, Kacey was right, that smile really does make your. I sent a text. “I am close. 10 seconds from your door. Please be ready to open it for me.”Text response: I’m by the door now.Extra bright red lipstick on. Stairwell door open. Nobody in hallway. Good. I knocked gently. The door opened. (My keycard was ready in case there was a problem.)He closed the door. I said, “Clark, it’s good to see you in person again. You look better than your picture on the Towering Palms website.” Then I pulled his face down to mine and kissed him. Then said, “In case. I'll downplay their reactions by just writing, "They went gaga INSANE over me."More girls kept arriving, which continually renewed the embarrassing, gaga-insane mayhem. Julia helped a lot, by standing back and giving them free access to me. They went seriously over the top. I got FAR more praise for how I looked in these clothes than I'd received all year for being a genius. It indicated that girls have a very screwed up sense of priorities. I can't say I was surprised, as I'd received a hint.