Continuing his father’s legacy, his products had more become labors of love than competitive products in the world free trade marketplace. Committed... to making the best product that he could, he was true to his art. Albeit, a lost art, mass production had ruined the appreciation to have something beautifully handmade and that was made in America, instead of cheaply manufactured overseas in China. Finding himself in a similar but not as a life and death situation, as Steven Spielberg’s main. She handed Billy his and after they took a drink they both sat them down. Amber, having never sat, opened up her robe to show she was naked as the day she was born.For being fifteen, she looked great with her handful breasts and the airstrip hair she had on her pussy. Her nipples did not stick out but the areola's were about two inches across. She had a fit body from taking karate. Her brown hair brought out her brown eyes to make he look stunning.He reached up and grabbed her hips pulling her. She had on some little running shorts and a skimpy little t-shirt. I was doing some bench presses, and Candi came over and stood over my head straddling it. "Need a spot?" she said and smiled. As I looked up to answer I couldn't help but notice I could see straight up her shorts. I almost lost control of the weights. Candi wasn't wearing panties and there up her shorts I saw the smoothest, prettiest pussy I have ever seen. Her outer lips were puffy and her little gash was closed tight. I knew. Marty looked at her tenderly. He knew he couldn’t leave her. He couldn’t leave her in the hotel alone and for some reason he couldn’t leave her bed. He reached up running a fingertip over her cheek. ‘Do you want me to sleep here tonight?’ He asked softly. Amanda looked at him. ‘I… I…’ She stuttered. She looked at her hand holding his arm and realized that she was afraid to be alone. ‘Yes! Please.’ Marty searched her eyes then nodded. She released his arm moving over on the bed as he stripped.