“Who’s zat?” came back.“Yo’ ol’ fren Zeke an’ his cobber. Brung some grub.”“Whatcha got?”“Burgers.”“Ain’t got nuttin’ bu... Adam’s ale, boys.”“We got a pair o’ slabs to trade.”“Lemme see whatcha got an’ tell me whatcha want.”“This is Jos, a real good bloke. Jos, go bring them slabs.”When Jos returned, a slab under each arm, George and Zeke were munching away. Zeke must have fetched two chairs, as they were sitting and there was a third waiting. No two matched. From the wrappings, it looked as. I buried them as deep as I could in hopes that no one would ever notice them. Only afterwards did I think about what this would mean. What was it I had used to think about girls like that? That only skanks and tramps went around without any underwear. Especially in a skirt like this. I wondered, was this really me? Or had the idea to ditch my underwear come from a less savory source? Whatever the cause, I certainly wasn’t going to go diving in the trash bin for a pair of sodden panties.. This interview is being taped, as I told you at the start.”“I’ve answered your questions. You just don’t like my answers.”“I don’t like your attitude either. It stinks.”“I can’t help it if my answers go over your head.”“There you go again, Gee-- Ms. Gudapati.”“Let’s take it from the top,” she said. She stood, and removed her Burberry blazer, revealing the designer blouse underneath. It was not sheer, but it was certainly fitted. She stretched, and then sat back down. There was a pause. “I. They were usually bored housewives who welcomed a bit of flirting. “Well thanks for the offer Terry, but I think you should concentrate on my windows,” Chrissie grinned. Terry was shown into the hallway. Chrissie gestured towards the stairs. “I’m a bit busy at the moment so if you want to get started upstairs that would be great.” Terry walked up the stairs and went around the rooms, measuring the windows and making notes. While he was in the bedroom he heard a giggle coming from downstairs. “I.