He was hoping it would be a fun experience. Peter got cleaned up and drove over to the pumpkin stand. He always loved fall and loved pumpkins. He d...cided he’d buy three pumpkins. A large, medium and small pumpkin.He bought the pumpkins and drove back to his house. He knew that he had a few hours before anybody would come home. Peter went downstairs and got his father’s drill and drilled a hole in each of the pumpkins.He made smaller holes in the pumpkins. He wanted to get the impression. "I didn't know that you wrote about ... well, about the subject, and the way that you wrote about it. It's an erotic story, no doubt about that. I'm just surprised, that's all." "Surprised that I write erotica?" "Yes. I assumed that you wrote I guess what would be called regular writing, regular stories. Is this all that you write? I mean, do you write other kinds of stories, other types?" "No. This is the only kind of story I write. When I first started writing, I tried writing other kinds. I have a few friends who may keep any future employees on the right side of their contract."The meeting was to be in two days, so I took the chance and phoned the Secretary of State. It was hard to get through but he called back in an hour and a half. After a few pleasantries, I said that I was in town pandering my wares to the military and would like to talk to President Truman, if he had a moment. Twenty minutes later I was talking to another voice I knew."Hello, Sir, I am close by trying to. “And not a word about Natasha.”“Yeah,” the man nodded, looking down at his employee loving his cock.“Oh, isn’t that just sexy?” Janet whispered. My bestest friend and wife sat beside me on the desk. Like me, her stretchy dress was bunched around her waist, leaving her naked, her big tits heaving, her long, sleek legs swinging. My big boob brushed hers, making me giggle.“It is sexy,” I purred, licking my lips. “Just like your big boobies.”Frank shook his head, muttering, “Horny bimbos.”We were.