It seems she thought another girl in her class, Jules, was also gay, no way to confirm it and absolutely petrified of being wrong. Could we invite her...over one night and er...find out? "What, " I asked, my mind leaping with possibilities," you want to see if she'll fuck you?" Subtle, eh? But basically, yes. The plan was set up and strict warnings were given to me: NO WAY was I going to fuck this other girl, Viv and I weren't to fuck in front of her either and it all had to look like my doing.. Mum's sowing room had been the centre of her activity for as long as I can remember. When I was a small boy, she had worked in a woman's fashion shop. I remember her picking me up from school and the looks of envy she would get from the other mums because of the wonderful clothes she wore, which I later learnt were heavily subsidised by staff discount. As my dad had seen fit to walk out on us whilst I was still a baby, she had to raise me single handed, which in the 60's was nowhere near as. My wife comes in the bedroom, with breakfast, already prepared. "This is all too good to be true?" I’m thinking to myself. I smile at her, and she smiles back at me. This goes on for a bit. "Aren’t you in such a great mood?” She says to me. "What do you expect after last night (with a huge smile)?" I reply back. "It was a great night for me as well." She replies. "That’s what I wanted to hear." I comment back. We chat for a bit, while eating our breakfast and watching some Sunday morning news.. She thinks "maybe these guies aren't the sharpest blades in the drawer" "humm, well-whatever, they're both super hotties regardless" and then Brandi moves on. She explains to them that "you probably can't get pregnant in a public pool, ... maybe". She says that "as far as I know no one's ever gotten pregnant in space, and that's maybe because coca-cola really-works up there where the fizz is weightless". She adds that some fish breed by turning inside-out, that space-aliens breed with just.