We'll work on it this Saturday." So thatwas that.Christine started working on my hair in the late morning and kept at itfor the next four hours or so ... washing it and putting some lightener onit, and conditioner, and trimming it, and doing something with it, andthen being unhappy with its look and undoing what she had just done, andthen trimming it some more, and then doing something else to it andfinally saying, "Well, it's not perfect but it's way better than it was.See how it looks."Wow, I. " Did she? I mean what if what happened to me last night happened to her? I certainly wasn't a slut when I went to that party last night. Alcohol and pot made me stupid and you saw what that did to me. I'm not really a slut baby - well, that's not true anymore - but I wasn't one before last night. Maybe Gail wasn't either. In the time I've worked with her I've never seen any indication that she was the type to do what we both did last night. Maybe pot and alcohol made her lose control too. You. Sunday and Monday went slowly. Eventually Tuesday afternoon arrived. Susan and I arrived at the property at the same time, she hopped in with me and we drove to the quiet place we'd used previously. Again a couple of drinks, then into the back, our clothes coming off as we went.I ran my eyes over her, she was a beautiful sight, (yes I know I've said that before, but she was), rounded breasts, and nice flat belly even after the kids she'd had, firm thighs and legs and a lovely neat pussy.. Frank tucked in his shirttails. “I said, knock it off!” he replied sharply. “Get dressed, now!”Startled, the teens put their clothing back on. Frank hustled them to the foyer, where they grabbed their coats and left.“What’s going on, Uncle Frank?” asked his nephew, directing him through the suburb.Frank was quiet for a moment, then spoke up. “Your mother and Ronnie are worried about your grandfather. He’s been pretty depressed since your grandmother died, and they want him to come stay with you.