Sorta like the ‘fallen rock’ signs along some southern Appalachian mountain roads ... sometimes ‘fallen rock’ means ‘falling rock’ so keep...moving.Perhaps it would behove me to explain about the basement. the 2400 square foot area makes no mention of the Cubic feet of airspace.Gustafson was a little generous with the shovel when it came to foundation work. Once it’s a hole it’a a hole. The basement ceiling is 14 feet away from the concrete floor.And ... since everyone knows cubic feet is LxWxH. He shut the door as I walked in and then I was on the bed. His mouth was covering mine completely and I was lost in him. His smell. His weight. His body pressing mine down into the bed from above. We didn’t want to waste any time. It was probably only five minutes of adolescent style making out before he slid away and pulled off my jeans and my thong, dropping his shorts and boxers in the process. I watched as he pulled off his shirt. My breath caught, I was still not used to how sexy he looks. "We're in the mountains in Montana. There's no smog here."My wife said, "I'm afraid you're wrong, Dear. There's smog all over the planet. It's obviously worse in the big cities, but it gets picked up and circulated by the wind currents and it's everywhere." She looked up with a curious expression on her face. "Except here. As of this morning."Bev said, "That would explain the smell." Partly," Maria said. "I think it's more than that. You know how an overcrowded room with a lot of people smells?. “Why don’t you guys fuck,” said Mary. “No one will bother you. I closed the door,” she said looking at my wife. I looked at my wife raising my eyebrows. She shrugged. I took her face in my hand and kissed her hard. “Oh my god,” she whispered. My hand found her ass and squeezed. Our tongues danced around each other’s. Her hand found my cock. Wait a minute. How could she reach…? Then I felt her breasts against my back. Mary had snuck up behind me. I stopped kissing my wife. She opened her eyes.