I sat in the dining area of our town home nibbling at a sandwich, waiting for my wife, Cheryl to come down from our room after showering and dressing ...n one of her slut outfits, ready to go out for some hot fun. "So, where are you taking your slut wife today, pervert?" She asked in a nasty voice, as she now stood next to me in a black cotton mini skirt, black hose, loose, wrap style, pale blue blouse, under which she wore a black shelf bra which held up her tits provocatively, and four-inch. Len had sold the family business as others had been forced to do before him. He was a business man, a reasonable man, and knew the balance sheet by heart. Expenses grew, profits shrank, worries multiplied until he had been forced to find a solution. His cows, the equipment, all the things that had helped him in the business were sold. He was left with the land, a neat one hundred acres upon which now stood his home, the place where he and his wife Connie had raised Michael, their only child.. “Nobody can decide for someone else!”“That’s true,” I agreed. “But as Dad says, parents think they can control that when there is no way they can, no matter what they think.”“So your dad is OK with it?” Cynthia asked. “Even for your sisters?”“Dad would never be a hypocrite and say the rules were different for girls than they were for boys.”We finished our lunch, then went to the basement to play pool and foosball for about an hour, then we left the house. We walked to the L, rode downtown, then. . “Well, that brought on stories about seeing donkeys and horses pissing with their long cock hanging down between their legs and they all laughed and joked and told how it made them feel in their privates.“Irene told them if they were ever going to become grownups and stop being little girls, they needed to call it their pussy. Especially if they were talking about a man’s cock being as big as a donkeys cock. That brought on another round of laughs and hoots and hollers as each of them took.