He felt that there were still far too many threats out there to let his guard down yet. Mary on the other hand was thrilled to no ends to have human b...dies within the confines of the palace again, after over 200 years. Hartwell and many of his men were walking around still in a somewhat of a fog.Derrick pulled Hartwell aside a few hours later, "What did your command say about all the proof that we provided them?" That's the thing," Hartwell answered, "after I relayed most of it, they told me to. That’s what mattered at the moment.It was harder to find leftovers now fewer people smoked. The exception was the teenagers, who often left unfinished cigarettes in hidden clearings. He knew the park well, so made for the best spot first. It had already been picked clean. He could see where the cigarettes had left a mark, but none now remained. He took an angry swig from the can. The next spot could be reached by retracing his steps and taking a winding path, or pushing through bushes that. You can imagine how that made me feel knowing I would probably soon be exposing my own fairly average equipment.The big moment came after dinner when Tracey suggested we take our glasses and adjourn to the tub. I, in light of the recent conversation, stripped off and jumped as quickly as I could into the tub. Tracey was next and she showed no embarrassment as she stripped and stepped slowly into the tub, giving me an eyeful, as she always did, of her cunt, knowing that it turned me on. Cathy. She must have been saving up for it for a while. The tattoo artist took pride in his work at least.“Nice tramp stamp.” “What did you call it?” Mom asked.“They’re called tramp stamps.”“They are not,” Bernie exclaimed.“Why do they call them that?”“From what I’ve heard any girl that gets that kind of tattoo is announcing to the world that she’s a slut.”“It’s worse than I thought,” said Mom. “I think I need a drink.”“He’s just making that up, Mom. I know he is.”“I’m not making it up. Just.