They politely welcomed me and showed me straight into the bedroom. Guy A offered me a drink and I asked for some water, which he brought to me a momen... later. I was a little nervous and was using the glass in my hand as a focal point to ease my nerves a bit. The guys are talking about how cute I am and how they got so lucky at such a late time at night. I smile, blushing. Guy A then takes the glass out of my hand and puts it down somewhere and begins kissing me. I don't usually like kissing. ."I looked at the girls and his wife, "um ... amorous."He laughed again, "know anything about farming?"I smiled, "my family ... no I do not know about farming."He grinned at the teenage girl, "well farm girls tend to be a horny lot. My Ashley was asking if you were single and might like company."She was blushing and I grinned, "I would love to take her with me but she would get tired of me real quick."He chuckled and I sighed and headed for the door, "I need to see if I can find the damage to. Meanwhile, Bobby was looking around the room, which obviously had been Bree’s childhood bedroom and little had changed. There were plaques on the wall for gymnastics and dance, and photos of her in action. One framed photo on the dresser caught his interest and he picked it up to examine it more closely. It was an eight by ten photo of Bree on stage, under the lights, dancing on the tiny tips of her toes with her hands high above her head, her sexy bod dressed in a white frilly tutu, white. My mother sure didn't. My married sister wouldn't Even talk about it."I'll tell mom if you ask me that again!"My older sister said, "I don't touch myself there! I certainly wouldn't let a man do it."My freshman year was filled with cast iron bras and sheet steel girdles. Victoria was keeping her secrets secret. My little sister still slept in footed flannel, and she was in the 8th grade. Playboy ignored the existence of crotches. I wanted to SEE, and touch, and feel.In '57, My uncle Harry took.