What the hell is going on?" Well, I think I just got one question answered. They must have had a recording device hidden in it that they wanted to rec...ver. Call the police and report it stolen. I bet they will find it within ten minutes, abandoned on some side street. Let's get a cab home. Tiny, you wait here and fill out all the forms for the police, but have your people follow us home at a distance. I don't think we will be bothered any more tonight. When they finally hear that recording,. The first thing was to get the drum tracks. I use Roland's V-Drums. It keeps the neighbors happy, and gives me a lot of leeway.Tim and I always lay scratch tracks when we start a song. This means that there are quick guitar tracks laid down, along with a bass track as we work out the arrangement. This is played to a plain old MIDI drum beat. This gives us something to play in time to, and lays down a MIDI track at the same time. Meaning that once the time code is laid down, it will play back. Me, on the other hand, I knew my face was as red as a fire truck and I could feel my pre-juice running down and around my whole cock and into my underwear around my balls! If we had sung one more song I probably would have shot the whole wad!But the torture was far from over. Sitting down, I was taller than her (she has long legs and I have a long torso) so every time I glanced over at her I could see between her tits… and there was no bra that could see under her thin fabric. The folded over. She was, first of all, 50, or let us say ’50is’. He was in his mid 20’s, exhibiting that certain eagerness in most situations that is a trait of such an age group. She–Helen that is, was a very attractive ’50ish’ woman. That much about her had never changed at all. She was, he only now was taking the opportunity to realize, big breasted, wearing a tucked in white blouse, and remarkably thin waisted, once again taking into account the white blouse tucked into the dark blue skirt. The wideness.