Paul's new friends gather round as he regalesthem with stories of his somewhat exaggerated adventures. UnderneathPauls bravado and swagger was a decen...t bloke, he has a lovely wife, headored his kids, he's worried he isn't taken seriously at work and hegives up his weekends to teach street cricket to kids from inner cityestates. You sit and listen to the stories you've heard a hundredtimes before, chipping when required and laughing at the right times.Glancing at your watch and time has pushed. Well, I do… because I have them all the time! Sometimes, they turn into a story, but mostly they remain trapped inside my brain. That is, until now…I have never really been a fan of museums. My parents took me to a few when I was younger, but I was for the most part bored out of my mind. The worst was definitely the art museums. I didn’t—and still don’t—understand how someone can spend hours staring at the same painting. As much as I enjoy art, I usually got bored after a few seconds and begged. "Bob," said Nancy, "this is great. Our burdens are greatly relieved now that we have four assistants to help raise our children." Yes. But did you see how much they eat? We'll have to work longer hours." Sally, Sarah, Terry and Rusty all stuck their tongues out at Bob."Children, behave," said Nancy laughing."We are, Mother," replied Joyce with a grin."Let's go into the other room so they can clear the table," said Sally when she saw the cook at the door.Over coffee in the common room, their. Then I knewthere was no way dad could be home because I talked tohim that morning, not more than 3 hours before and hewas 3000 miles away on some mountain I’d ever heard of. Then in heard a male voice say, “Mmmm, you taste likecandy,” and that he loved having her cum in his mouth.It sounded like Ricky my 15 year old brother. I went to Ricky’s bedroom door, which was open a fewinches and got the shock of my life. There was mybrother with his face between mom’s.