"I've never even seen them. Why would I think there's something wrong with them?" They're so small," she said. "I know you think they're small." Her j...w was sticking out. She was still trying to start a fight."Even if I thought they were small, that's not bad. They're all different sizes, right? Some are small, some are big. What's the difference? And who cares what I think anyway?" I didn't want a fight."Boys don't like girls with small boobs," she insisted."You don't know much about boys," I. The funeral was four months ago. Carol and I been there,dressed all in black, as the body of Officer Ray Peralta was lowered intothe ground. His fellow cops all offered their condolences, several ofthem kneeling down and hugging me, none of them knowing it wasn't theircolleague in that casket but our daughter, Eloise. Carol's face was amask of grief, but at least the dark glasses hid her eyes. I had topretend a certain level of incomprehension, the small child not reallyunderstanding that her. Sure the sex was nice – but if he wanted to fuck someone for pleasure, he would go to the brothels, instead of fucking adventurers who couldn’t even last his normal five hours long session. Bah! 95% of them, didn’t even last ten minutes!And what heroes he had to deal with…There was a case when thirty peasant girls created a hero company. Fucking all of them was fun… first time. But after fourth such a session he had enough (his penis swelled from over-use), so has sent slavers after them. They. Margarita was offered, but would not accept, payment for her childcare and housekeeping services.One week in late June, Earl and I teamed up to run a load from Amarillo to Milwaukee, leaving the Turner Family and Margarita back in Albuquerque to fend for themselves. We had some dead time on the wrong end of that run before we could secure a load for the return trip west. We were away from home for six days, and the evening I returned home, Margarita greeted me with undisguised enthusiasm.She.