Somehow, I just couldn’t pull that trigger yet. An alias worked well enough for me.“You’re Harrison Jackson. I thought that you’d be ... older...” the man grinned at me as I got into the van with my stuff ... wait, who does valet driving with a VAN?“I hear that a lot, mostly because I’m loaded,” I shrugged, “you are?”“Marten De Groot. Nice to meet you. That’s Marten with ‘e,’ not with an ‘i.’ I’m Belgian, Flemish to be precise. My wife, Nicole, is a Walloon, a Francophone Belgian. Hence part of. My eyes were immediately drawn to something large and fleshlike moving in and out of a hole in the shed wall. I gasped audibly almost giving myself away. I swooned at the intimate view and had to steady myself from what I was witnessing. I eased closer, holding my breath. There was no window on this side of the shed, just wood, which meant that I was nicely concealed from my cousin and the house. My George's erect uncut penis was sliding fairly tightly in and out of a smooth, rounded hole and. I think she should leave well enough alone and allow Jean and Richard to keep raising him as if he is solely theirs. So, here we are now, just after midnight. The sisters had now gone through three bottles of wine. Richard and I had polished off the rest of the whiskey. These events which spilled from the mouths of our wives were completely new to both Richard and me. It was extremely erotic hearing it all. The four of us were sexually charged and ready for action. Nicole wasn’t as drunk. Surely they would look around sometime now and find thekeys as they weren't exactly hidden. But the rescuing angel just seemedto want to reassure her rather than actually do anything as if thesolution was already in motion so there was nothing to do but wait. Ohno there must be second person and Sarah despite the desperate eagernessto be released also was dreading finding out who had found her andwhether or not they had guessed who she was. Oh no oh no if they didn'tknow who she was then they.