" Her beautiful smile lit up her face again. She bobbled a bit, which made her little breasts slightly jiggle. Was she wearing a bra? What a tease. "W...ll nice to see you again, Mr?" Mr? No, don't make me feel old. I'm Alec Miller, but you can call me, Alec" I said sternly. "Oh okay, thanks Alec. If you'll excuse me. I've got to help my mom in the kitchen," with that, she was off. I watched her leave. She had amazing legs, long, slender, with shapely calves and cute little thighs. What is she. She immediately took a towel and covered her pussy and she recognized me as I was her neighbor, she smiled at me and asked what you are doing there, I could not resist watching her boobs, but with lot of difficulty I looked at her face and answered I’m capturing a honey bee, she smiled and said “give me honey too, when you are done”, I said yes, but this time I looked at her breasts while replying, knowing that I’m looking she kept smiling and I did not know what to do, I kept my attention on. There seems something entirely ‘right’ about all this, something that I can’t even explain. That's in large part because explanations are always utilitarian, rational, and based on principles of acquisition, self-justification, and the universally agreed upon value of survival. What I'm doing here has nothing to do with any of these sensible daytime pursuits. What I'm doing is gambling everything (yes, even my life) for a moment of ecstasy—the ecstasy of losing everything for nothing. Nothing,. The truck and vehicles arrived with the last of our crates and people. The skid steer driver now had it down to a science. The crates were quickly unloaded.There was still plenty of daylight left so Andy assigned Mac Desilva (one of the team leaders) and his group the duty of sorting the crates. Derek Wilson, who was operating the skid steer, was one of Mac’s team.Two of the food crates and one of the bread crates went into the kitchen to be emptied into the walk-in freezer and refrigerator..