While Iput on much-needed depth in my chest and arms, his thickened as well. Asthe school year passed, I felt like I was beginning to show realimprove...ent. My form, although shorter, seemed to bulk more quickly thanTerry's, and muscle showed nicely in my arms and back. Terry developed asinewy swimmer's built with large shoulders and a narrow waist. Finally,I felt as though I were, if not his equal, a good contrast to his form.Although I did not sport the early growth of chest hair that. And it had been absolute happenstance that he stumbled across that young witch at the party. Her hair was that dusty shade of blond that many called dishwater blond. Her skin was fair, but not overly pale. And her eyes were the misty blue of a linen flower in spring.The party had been at the marina. He had taken her out on one of the family boats to look at the moon at midnight. It was a pontoon boat–what many called a party boat. They had made love on a blanket spread on the flat deck– or at. "Do you feel that?" she said as she took my clit between her index finger and thumb."Mmm, nice!" I replied which made her smile."You're English Rose eh?" she asked, "Winner at Cannes?" Yes," I agreed, "That's why I'm here." Well you got your work cut out, there ain't no sea crossing here." she said."Were you there?" I asked."No but we all saw the video," she admitted, "Gee ain't your mom something!" she asked, "You're straight I guess?" she said."Yes," I agreed."Shame," she said and she pinned. Now Gwen – as she preferred to be called – was a voluptuous lady about a size 20, still curvy with big tits and, as I had already found out, was a girdle lover. For a seventy year old she was fit, pretty and obviously dressed very well.So at 10.20 I rang the doorbell, toolbox in hand. “Hello Robert, come in, thanks for coming at short notice but my sink is bunged up and I cannot do anything with it”, was the message she greeted me with. “Don’t worry Gwen, I’ll soon have it fixed” As I went.