I sat and quietly drank my whiskey while idly playing with the head of my cock through my pants. I stirred from my reverie when I realized that the s...hower had stopped, but I hadn’t heard Amy call or anything. I figured she was getting dressed or something. Of course, I mused, she won’t stay dressed for long. I heard a sound from upstairs, faintly at first, then stronger. I couldn’t place the sound at first—sort of a repeated sound, not rhythmic. Like something being slapped. Couldn’t. Fashions too had changed; no more long thick skirts andbaggy sweaters that made girls look like a sack ofspuds. We had mini skirts in all sorts of styles andbright colours; blouses, or tops as they are nowcalled, were made from many new and differentmaterials, some clingy; others see through which showedoff a girls figure; although most of us wore a braunderneath the tops; there were some exceptions.My name is Jennifer, Jenny for short; in 1964 I wasseventeen years old, I lived in London with. Gross, do I have too?”He gave me a funny look, then glances at the car and whispers, “Let’s wait until they are gone, then we can talk, okay.”I giggle and say, “Oh boy, does Grampa have a surprise for me?”He didn’t say anything in response, because by then mom and dad were on the porch.My father looks at him and says, “Hi dad. Do you remember our conversation about your messy house? Well, Janice and I thought that maybe you would like Trisha to help you tidy up the place a bit. I know she. “You want to impress me.” He nodded. She chuckled.“Then, listen to me.” She pushed him down. She ground on him. “Call out my name.” She turned up the heat. “Make me feel like a queen.” She kissed him. She led his hands up to her breasts. “Touch me. Kiss me.” She leaned down and whispered in his ears, ”Make me yours.”Their efforts continued with enhanced vigor. Yet both could feel something had changed. The burdensome weight of expectation was lost. In perfect harmony, they both realized that.