Mr. Aronoff introduces us to his photographer who does not speak much Russian and whose name is Ken. For the evening, we are not models though. We a...re movers. We move furniture and fake walls and props and lights and make a "set", a fake parlor room for the photoshoot. When we are done, Serge and I are tired, and Ken leads us to a small office that has been turned into a bedroom. There are two beds, a big wardrobe, and a bathroom with a shower. He tells us to get some sleep because before. It was a warm Saturday morning in early September when I decided to take my yellow Labrador for a stroll in the park. Freddie (named after Fred of the Flintstones) was on a leash, sniffing at some bushes, when suddenly a little girl came running from the opposite direction and landed awkwardly on the soft grass a few feet from me. My thoughts were elsewhere, and I was surprised to see a tow-headed child get up, and unmindful of the grass stains on her shorts, walk fearlessly towards Freddie.. One evening, just as we were getting “comfortable”, I asked her if she had ever had sex with more than one guy at the same time and she blushed more than I had ever seen.“Well” she replied, “sort of… well, not exactly at the same time, but…. well, I don’t want to talk about it.”I couldn’t let it go and my cock proudly displayed my excitement, so I pressed on.“Look at me, Baby” I said, nodding to the tent in my boxers, “you’ve GOT to tell me.”She was wearing only her panties, so she propped. They retraced steps along the ridge companionably till she touched his arm: – Listen. They stood for a moment, just the soughing of the wind till she heard it again, softly: chirrock, chirrock. – Ptarmigan, she whispered, be still. He was looking round intently and she touched his arm again, pointed. – Wow, he breathed. The pair of wee grouse were against a snowbank and if she hadn’t pointed he wouldn’t have seen them. Only a dark line through the eyes, another at the wingends, marked.