My gaze is fixed on Her lovely bulging big tits in that skimpy top, and despite the risks, I’m helpless, unable to do anything, apart from gasping �...��ohhhhh!” Then She turns Her head, raising Her eyebrows and saying loudly to Her companion – “here’s the big tits!”, and She walks over to that shelf, which groans under the weight of a lot of mags with big-tit girls on the cover. Hearing Her say that, I squirt a jet of pre-cum into my pants. I can’t believe what I’m seeing and hearing. Her companion. His breath carries the sweet and pungent smell of garlic. I can smell tobacco on his clothes. His white, rigid mask presses against my face. I smell its plastic artificiality. Expressionless I can see nothing of his feeling from the mask while within me I sense every rise and fall in his lust in the stiffening and ebbing of his cock. He pulls away. He moves behind me. What's he doing now? I can't see what he's up to. I feel him pull at my hair, feel his cock against my head. He's wound my hair. I wasn’t quite sure what Bucky thought about this, but he seemed to handle it well.The big day happened to be Monday, July 23. Marilyn started having contractions about 8:00 AM, and I could tell by the look on her face that this wasn’t a false alarm. She had never had that sort of thing with any of our kids the first go through, and I hadn’t heard of it with Charlie. She just grabbed the kitchen counter and looked over at me with a worried face. “Carl...”“Is it time?” I asked.She nodded, and. " Okay, do you have a cellphone and internet?" Yes, my number is 617-555-1212 and my email is [email protected]." [Ed note: these are made up. If there is one, it's an accident.]"Okay, I will call you in an hour and send you an email list with pictures of antennas if I can't identify them." Good, do you have plenty of the thick black cable?" Not much, is it standard or do I need to get some?" It is not, repeat not, standard. If you can get some, fine. Otherwise, I will pick up some on the way.