”“Well, I don’t know of any financial advisor who would be late if he had the opportunity to manage a portfolio of fourteen million dollars.”�...�It’s refreshing to hear someone who is honest say that. I like dealing with honest people.”While this exchange was going on, Kevin had an opportunity to appraise her. She had gray hair of medium length which he thought was chemically enhanced. She was somewhere in her late fifties, about five foot six inches or so, and had a slim figure. She was as some. In this case, it's state route 92, where it crosses Blue Jacket Creek, and county road 23, which runs more or less along the creek, but on the higher ground. The respectable part of town runs from the bridge, Miss Tina's Tea Shoppe, west along 92, up toward the Stanford Central School. Uncle Ted had a garage, auto repair and general blacksmithing, between the county road and the creek. It was an old brick building. I guess it was once a stable. Ted continued to run his garage until he died, and. It was made of heavy steel and had locks on the outside as well as inside.Since I was invisible I was able to think of the inside of that building and transport myself there. I was lucky that I didn't materialize inside a wall. I had to move quickly to get out of the way of anyone moving around. What I had entered was evidently a school where the young girls were being trained to be sex slaves.I was in a long hallway with many doors on each side. At the first door I could hear some whimpering. Lifting up her dress, feeling that perfectly moulded ass..... how good her tight Latino pussy would feel around his shaft. He had to make for some space, a cigarette was ideal, no one in the smoking area, he could chill out and regain his composure.The next minute the hottie was walking his way, tapping a pack of smokes eager to get one out the pack, he caught a vague smile in his direction. Steve had no idea where to look, he was so awkward, looking around, his eyes perverting on their own..