(The equations are mostly nonsense.) A thought bubble is showing the girl is thinking, "Fuck this shit, I'll be a stripper." Inside, I'd had it printe... with "I'm glad that worked out for you."It took a while, but eventually she calmed down. She still had a big grin on her face; she hugged me and kissed me. I think she liked the card. She moved down the bed, and started blowing me. That's always good, but before I got really into it, two of me walked into the room. That was creepy, I assumed. The ladies spent a good part of the day out around the pool and did not seem to mind me. "Hey gramps, you should join us." Kendra said. "You want me to join you?" I replied. "Sure, don't worry, we will not make fun of you." Lisa laughed. I thought why not. So I dropped my clothes and jumped in. My wife and I had been nudist for some time now. We swam and played. Then got out for some lunch. Every one stayed naked. I made sandwiches and the girls had wine. "Wow gramps, you are built way better. In a work reminiscent of Rene Magritte's surrealistic painting,Attempting the Impossible, an artist, looking suspiciously like Kimberlyherself, seems to put the finishing touches to a magnificent erectionshe is painting--an erection that juts through a hole in her canvas andonto the painting's surface. The canvas itself has been painted toresemble a wooden fence, so that the penis that the artist paints isboth an imitation of an erect prick and the actual erection itself. Thestiff, hard cock. "Don'twipe it off." She said and left the room. I didn't see how she opened thedoor in the wall but it closed seamlessly behind her and I saw no sign ofa door. Should I examine the wall? I thought not. I loved the taste ofher lipstick and the echo of her song. I went back to playing. Whenhungry I ate. When tired I slept.A few days later she came again. She was more sharply dressed. Herbreasts pointed at me behind a tight blouse. Her nails were painted red.Her lipstick gleamed. "I'm Confessing.
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