Her round breasts had such a nice bounce to them. She shivered, licking her lips, looking so nervous.Daddy surveyed us then his eyes fell down on Geor...ia. “You were a naughty slut today, Georgia, by helping my daughter steal my Mustang and wrecking it, weren’t you?”“Sorry, sir,” Georgia said, her voice tight and throaty. “I didn’t think we’d wreck it. We just wanted to show off.”“You didn’t think about the consequences,” he growled. “You and Bess never do. You just think you can do whatever you. I let go of her nipple, and she put her tit away, but he had clearly seen it, and he had a big smile on his face, and said she didn’t have to put it away on account of him. Then he told us his name was Bob, and he was there for two weeks of work. We introduced ourselves briefly, and then my wife just giggled, and we got off the elevator and went to our room. The guy from the elevator it turns out was right across the hall from our room. He said nice to meet you, and we went in to our room. Well. "We'll see," I replied to her. "I sure hope so."William McGinley, was a fourth generation engineer, who still thought with a Scottish brogue. He had started with the Pennsylvania Railroad as a student in high school, working the yards and going to school. After fifteen years, not to mention three generations of coaches to help him, he was one of Penn Central's best. And from everything I could tell, not the least bit superstitious."Billy?" I whispered in his mind."What the fuck?" he said out. She took off her short jacket to reveal herself in her standard not-at-work outfit: cute-fitting jeans, a baggy plaid shirt over the aforementioned scooped-neck T-shirt, and lightweight-hiking boots. ‘So, to what do I owe this pleasant surprise?’ I asked her, settling into my reading chair next to a piece of furniture that had been in my family for a long time: a mahogany reproduction of an eighteenth century drum table. In this chair was where I did all my reading that didn’t require note.