But that didn't happen for a long time. The first fewmonths was spent with me just hanging around the house and practicingbeing a girl. I had to pra...tice not only how I spoke, but what I said.Not only how I walked, but how I moved my entire body. Not only how Iapplied makeup, but how I smiled. He had set up video cameras to watchme while he was at work, and would even call if I made a mistake. When hegot home I would have to cook his dinner and then demonstrate the progressI had made. . ’ I was actually quite surprised by her reply: It had been a joke between the crew, four schoolgirls waving at someone old enough to be their father. Then I remembered something else. ‘You were the one who gave me the Christmas cards, the blondish one who could actually roller-skate. The other three were very wobbly.’ ‘Oh my god, you were looking at us after all!’ She laughed, shaking out her now properly blonde hair. ‘And what were you thinking about while you looked at us, something bad?’ She. Her tits are D cups and I remember doing everything I could to try and time it so I would run into her on the way to or from the shower when I was an adolescent. The guys all thought I had to be one lucky son of a bitch to have a mom just 16 years older than me who didn't look to much older than us. To be honest, we were all about to find out just how lucky I was.We usually got done soaking around 11 so we were surprised when the back door opened at about a quarter ‘til and we saw my mom. "Now, Sandy, do you need to use the restroom?" he asked her, which perplexed everything in the room, including his colleague/slave."Yes, Master Julian. Come to think of it, I do," she replied."I know that I do, after a few beers. Yeah, I could use a good toilet, but I'm in a lazy mood. I don't really feel like walking back to the bathroom, to do what I was about to do a minute ago. Brittany, unzip my pants and get on your knees. Sandy, drop your shorts. Celeste, get on your knees and crawl.