Agent Summers could also use it as her reason why she didn’t answer her phone when the FBI did their thing at the mints with those from Becky’s fa...ily that crawled out from under their rocks.When we got there, the requisite thugs were there to “pat the women down” before they could go into the meeting. Things got interesting when I followed in behind the women.“Who the fuck are you, and where in the hell do you think you are going,” one asked me. “No babysitters allowed.”Being cocky, I said,. ”“Bobby Joe come back here and let me show you the other prints I have developed and Momma can show the rest of these to Mr. Muller.”“My goodness, Mr. Muller the next one up is one of me and my fat backside I am so embarrassed,” Margaret felt strange as she looked at the picture of her buttocks showing her fat pussy lips.“You are a very pretty woman, Ms. Margaret and I am very happy just to sit here and see your naked photographs.”“Thank you, Mr. Muller I do feel good when I let Bobby Joe take. Zander glanced at my crotch, and gave me a teasing smile. “Oink-oink, Elena Straltaira.” I blushed and pulled my knees up, concealing the tent I’d been pitching in my cloak. Zander winked, and abruptly transformed into Prestira. “How many drinks would it take for this to work?” Zander asked, Prestira’s voice coming from his lips. “I don’t know Zander,” I lifted his cloak, “do you still have all the male plumbing down there?”“Not if you don’t want it.” “Well, in that case,” I smiled, rolling. At one point she whispered in my ear that she was chilly then draped her raincoat over her lap and leaned close to me her dark wavy hair brushing my cheek, enveloping me with the scent of shampoo and perfume. I felt her hand alight gently on my arm and slide down to cover mine, squeezing gently as she tugged it under her coat onto a smooth thigh. Keeping her hand over mine she very slowly began to direct our hands in a sensuous exploration of her inner thigh from the curve of her knee slowly.