"Hello dear, I'm home from work. Oh, I did not know we had company. I apologize." I turned to see Mrs. Fitzgerald standing near the front door. I will...never forget the way she looked when we first met. Average height, long skirt hiding her toned legs, jet black hair wrapped in a bun with thick glasses to boot. She was wearing a small sweater but it was obvious she had huge tits hiding underneath. "That's quite alright dear this is Aj, the Turner's son. The one that will be helping out around. I oblige your nonverbal request to be stimulated and rub you through your panties.They immediately soak through. My hand is pressed down on your pussy by your tight jeans, occasionally depressing further against your mound. Your legs are shaking with pleasure, you're not quite sure what to concentrate on. Your pussy, begging for release, or your chest, currently on fire with sensation from being licked, nibbled, twisted and rubbed. I move my tongue downwards, tasting you as I go. Deliciously. That morning, I took the other path, the higher one, which looks down on such beauty. My intention was to walk to the top of the waterfall rather than the pool below. I was curious to see if the stories were true; that is possible to jump safely off the top of the falls. And also to explore the area behind the falls, perhaps even find a cave behind! It was from that upper vantage point that I saw movement below; surprising, since it was so early on a Sunday morning, when you’d expect everybody. Me."The exhibition was one that Gregg would have steered well clear of before his purchase. The museum had tried to make the collection interesting but the truth was that Heron had collected an awful lot of very dull things. The culmination of the show was, though another matter.In a room that had been decorated to make it appear like the inside of a Maharajah's palace, the walls hung with velvet drapes, tied back with great loops of silken cords. There was a sunken area behind a barrier.