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"When your cleaner speaks to you, does she call you Laura, or MrsMarshall?" I asked, pretty absent mindedly I thought. Idiot."What?" said Laura, properly surprised. "Why are you asking that? Do youdisapprove?"I could sense wheels turning at terrifying speed in her head. Then shemade an exasperated noise and nailed me first time"Is this one of your things? Do YOU want to call me Mrs Marshall?"Years ago, I had confessed my weakness for fantasies of becoming female,and we had sometimes played what for me were wonderfully exciting games inbed, with Laura on top and sitting just at the point where my cock seemedto be attached to her body. As usual, she had made an intuitive leap thatsomething was going on with me."No, it's not that necessarily." I knew I wasn't helping myself. "It'sjust I've never seen you act with a stranger." Sally isn't a stranger. She has been my cleaner for years." But she isn't your friend, that is what I mean." So you want to know how I act when I am not with a. " I smirked.We pulled the trooper along the ground to the passenger side of our car and started removing his uniform. As I got a bit off of him, Izzy put it on. Within minutes we had a cop in his skivvies on the ground and my sister in a slightly baggy state cop outfit, complete with gun belt and hat.I opened the rear door. "Okay ladies, everyone into the cop car. Izzy will drive." While they got out, I loaded our sleeping beauty into the back seat. That done I turned and ran to the cop car and got in."Okay Izzy, let's find the light switch on this thing and haul ass. Drive as fast as you feel comfortable with, but I want us going fast. We need to get to McLean quick before they realize what we've done. That trooper won't stay asleep for more than a couple of hours." Seat belts!" Izzy ordered, threw the car into drive and pulled out into traffic, complete with smoking tires and a spray of dirt behind us.She merged over into the suicide lane and tore down the interstate, lights.
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" "It's fine," I said, hoping to drop the subject. "Justin's a bit of a wallflower," my mother explained. "Mom!" "Well, you are," she accused. She was well into her 4th beer of the night. "You go to work, you go to school, and other than that you just stay up in your room." "Julie, leave the boy alone," my father said. "I'm just saying that if he's gonna meet someone, he's not going to do it sitting in his room." "Well," Brenda started, smiling flirtatiously. "If I was 15 years younger and living next door to you, let me tell you, your son would be in a lot of trouble, eh." She gave me another wink as my mother burst into laughter. "Yeah, he's kind of a pretty cute kid," my mother agreed, mussing my hair. I ducked away from her hand, thoroughly annoyed and embarrassed by these three drunk "grown-ups." I wondered how long it would be before the power came back on, so I could get the hell away from them. "Anyone up for another beer?" my father asked. He came back with another round for.

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