In fact I felt they had been waiting for my question.“Look can you quit calling me Mister Lee already. My father was Mister Lee. Call me Robert, or ...ob, or Roy, hell call me Lee, but not Elroy. I don’t answer to Elroy. Now as to the implants, that’s rather complicated. Where do you want me to start?” He laughed.“Where ever you want.” I laughed.“So at the end of the Civil War President Grant needed some assassins to clean up his loose ends. He hired a, I guess you would have to call him a. You have to be exhausted! I have to be honest here, I don’t know if I could have done what you did, not unless I was standing on a ley line or something.”I looked at Pat, torn about what to say or do. This was another confirmation that Pat could teach me a lot, but that I had already surpassed him in some areas; that some of the things I could do were already far past Pat’s own abilities and talents.The question in my mind was how much to tell him. Could I tell and not show? Show and not tell?. And looking out the window to see her family below . . . she pulled her top over her head and then quickly unhooked her bra in the front, exposing her developing breasts. She pulled off her shorts and with them her soaked panties. She would write another page of the story . . . naked she thought, which was very arousing. Finding the end of her uncles passage . . . she continued: All of a sudden Uncle Dave looked on his screen and saw Meghan placed her hand on Haleys pussy. He saw the brunette. She positions me on the sofa, gently touching me, her fingers lingering a moment too long on my body. “Is she flirting with me?” I think suddenly. As the thought crosses my mind I feel my pussy tighten in a delicious manner and moisture leak onto my thighs. She snaps photos of me draped over the sofa in various ways, some with the kimono tied and some with it open and showing my almost naked form. After she feels she has the photos she wants she instructs me to lay on the sofa so my head hangs.