Sipping my drink as it heats my throat on its travels down I turn around on my stool and observe the crowd. Looking for those pretty faces that just c...ll to me. There are many pretty women here ... But I’m looking for something particular. A slight innocent perhaps. Then again I may be looking in the wrong place all together. The thought of looking for an innocent woman in a bar gives me something to chuckle at while taking another warm sip, “Stahhh, that’s good stuff.” Then I saw her, a cute. She had her first-ever waxing ten days ago and looked so bare and vulnerable my heart melted for her. She looked so ripe and gorgeous bent over like that. “ Push your boxers down, Tony and let that erection have some freedom. Don’t be embarrassed, I’ll do the same.“ I wondered if he was going to ask me to enter her while he watched and commented and was unsure how I felt about that but I meekly did as I was told and he undid his trousers and pushed down his pants. Bloody hell! His prick was not. "A good liar," Jaclyn's father explained, "tells his opponent the truth and convinces him it's a lie."Jaclyn remembered that tactic most of all. That, and what he told her about spotting a liar."Everyone has a tell," her father said, shuffling the deck as he did. "They won't look you in the eye. They'll touch their own face. They'll shrug with only one shoulder. There's always something. You have to watch for it."Months of playing poker with her father trained Jaclyn to be as effective at. And there was only one way to find out. And if it's true ... The anxieties of childhood. In the case of cunts it turned out to be untrue, and that sticking you willie in one was very pleasant. So what about the bogeyman, and ghosts, the supernatural, are they all bad? I still don't know.My wife and I, together with our thirteen year old twin Sarah and David moved into an old house. Built in the 1920's it was sadly in need of refurbishment, so it was fairly cheap. It was, however, liveable and.