I inquired as to what he was looking at and to my shock he said my wife!. He said he found her legs and feet very stimulating and confessed he had a f...ot fetish...specifically stocking feet in high heels. Well far be it from me to judge...I have the same fault. However I did not let on to him that this was the case. We both ended up looking and staring at my wife for a bit from the bar as she dangled her pumps from her stocking toes. He remarked how he would love to get his hands on her feet. I was nervous, but they were more interested in myclothes than in me. One wanted a peek at my petticoat, and anotherasked if I had to wear the uniform all the time. I told her no, justfor special events. She seemed disappointed.When Mommy started ushering them out of my kitchen and into the diningroom, I set the oven to broil, got out the French loaf that I'd slicedand spread with garlic butter and sprinkled with parmesan cheese thatmorning, and arranged the slices on a pan so that they'd toast. After we both got our breath back she said,"It"s pointless to keep covering that up. I"ve already seen it." I replied,"I seen all of you but your still covered up." She thought that over a minute then said, " Ok. I will take away my hands if you take away yours." "Deal" We counted to three and both of us took away our hands at the same time and stared in marvel and wonder of the sights before us. She was a little shocked that her own brother was packing like I was and I was struck by the sheer. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come after you right away.”“They want me to marry Kale and have a bunch of kids,” she says softly through her sobs. “I don’t want him. I want you.”“We will get away,” he says, rolling her onto her back.“When?” she asks, looking at him through watery eyes.“Tonight.”“Tonight?”“Yes,” the man confirms. “We’ll have what we need and I know where we can go where they will never find us.”“But how will we get away?” she asks, her tears starting to dry up. “How do we know they won’t.