When I say 'go' jump and pull yourself across the saddle." Jennifer turned three-quarters away from me and put her hands on the saddle and her foot on...my knee. My knee was not nearly as high off the ground as the stirrup, so her seams groaned a little when she raised her leg, but didn't cry. She almost did, though, when I put my left hand inside her left thigh and my right hand on her butt. "Ready, set, go!" I said and launched her up onto Jubal's back. She looked back at me with her eyes wide. They exist as equals, doing things together or not as they choose. Once I fed them Friday night and interacted with them in play and socialization, they seemed to accept me at a basic level. That just increased as the weekend progressed.”Mr. Thrower had recovered from the awkwardness, “So, then, you were successful? You were able to … uhmmm … mate with each of them?”“Mate with each of them? That was Friday night, sir. Although, I did maintain my intention of doing so one at a time, I did mate. It was obvious from their features and long brown hair that they were mother and daughter. They both looked like they had been crying. "Jack," Sherrie said leaning towards the glass separating her and her husband. "What have you done to yourself. We don't have a son; you know that."The girl joined her. "Daddy, I-I'm sorry that you don't love me. I'm a girl. I've always been a girl. Just ask anyone. I love you, but I -- I can't be the son you want me to be." She sat down in the chair. Tom was in his 50's and unlike the young college girl we shared, Maggie was late 40's. She was petite and sexy with dark, golden skin, soft curves and a strong, South American accent. She was bright and bubbly with the personality of a sweet-natured soccer mom, leaving me to wonder if she truly knew what she was in for tonight. The other guy who joined us, Michael, a goodlooking bi guy, had to be wondering the same thing.As the four of us talked over a glass of wine, Tom said that Maggie had.