Apparently, this had been a woodworking factory at one time. Rather than send the broken equipment off to the junkyard, it had been stored down here f...r salvageable parts.Down near the end of the building was a large crate. It had the date scribbled on it that was only four years old. I walked around the crate and there was an invoice tacked to it. It identified a steam heating plant. I didn't know too much about something such as this, but I was hoping this was purchased to replace the wall. She got a bit flushed and started to burble a little when she was talking to Dad, but I think he put this down to the wine. I had managed to get my hand about half way up her thigh, but could progress no further, when Mum finally finished her food and quickly stood up to clear away the dishes.We spent the rest of the evening watching TV with Mum sitting on the far side of Dad, keeping clear of me, until it was time for bed.I lay in bed until Dad left next morning and waited until I heard Mum go. As he made love to Cheryl’s luscious young breasts, Bill rubbed his incredibly stiff cock, still tightly encased within its jeans prison, against Cheryl’s hot, wet snatch, still imprisoned within her own jeans. About now, a neutral observer might have observed a large wet circle on the front of Bill’s jeans, formed by his copious pre-cum juices, and an even larger wet spot in the crotch of Cheryl’s jeans where her girlish lubricating juices had lubricated their way. But consider it from my viewpoint. It would as if you were the only person in the world, surrounded by talking monkeys. Oh, they're lovable enough, but you can't really treat them like equals. Perhaps if I'd been born with a hyper-IQ, the socializing process might've integrated better, but that's neither here nor there. Now I'm just me again. No longer a child psychologist, no longer a sinister world dictator with superhuman intelligence, but just me, Ben Warren, average guy."He courted her and.