I was picking nits, to be sure, but Joy's promise for a voluntary roll in the sack motivated my half-truth about her husband's half-dick penetrations.... stepped across my threshold, shouted a greeting and waved. She looked at me, jerked her head away and strutted into her house. The display of contempt was quite obvious. Had she learned the truth? We'd have to have a conversation, one of these days. I scanned the street. Where was Inga?The phone rang. I slammed the door and bobbled the receiver. He allowed himself to relax a bit. "No."Lisa visibly relaxed, as well. "Now, will you let a screwdriver unwind you?" And she reached out her free hand to him.Oliver Douglas's old demeanor started to return, "No screwdriver! I'm not having anything that out-of-plumb carpenter touches."===As they came the short distance out of the kitchen into the equally rustic but classily outfitted living room, Alf told them, "If I were an English butler, I'd be very plum."Feeling the hem as he walked, Oliver. She stood just outside Paul's open bathroom door, pretending to be respecting his privacy. The bubble bath, however, gave Paul the only effective privacy he could get in that cramped little room."No, I'm OK, Cindy. I can knock on your door, later, when I get out of the tub, if there's something you need." Oh, no. Not really. I -- I found this little fold-out clothes-drying thingie, here. It was down in the laundry room?... See?" She stuck the aluminum fold-out contraption into the bathroom, her. Thursday night is choir, and even though she is just sixteen, her beautiful soprano voice is welcome in the Cathedral Choir.My Sweet Sister stopped before the sink and looked into the mirror ... and smiled. She smiled a happy smile. Then she turned aside and smiled a sultry smile, looking over her shoulder through her long blonde hair and half-closed eyelids. Then she produced a shocked expression of joy and silently laughed with a sexy headshake. Sweet Sister was practicing. Next she glared.