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She rushed the family through the meal.Jim relented after the main course. He led Rose into their study and opened the letter while Mrs. McGuinn served them coffee. The letter was in his father's handwriting, too, as he saw. There were three sheets of paper, written in his old-fashioned style.Hamden Gardens, January 17, A.D .1864Berkshire, EnglandMr. James Weston TremayneCity of Denver, Colorado TerritoryThe United States of AmericaMy Dearest Son!It was with an overwhelming feeling of joy that we received your letter and the wonderful news it conveyed. The photographic print you sent shows a few water stains now, from the tears your mother wept, after seeing her youngest grandchild. We are awed by the obvious beauty of your young wife and the strong character that shows in her fine features.We are overjoyed, too, over your good fortune. We have read newspaper articles, of course, about those gold fevers, and it seems quite outlandish to imagine that one can pick up lumps of pure gold. Maggie peeked out the curtain and saw me, smiled big, and opened the door. Both rushed to greet me and pull me inside. We traded some kisses and ass pats and gropes, but neither could wait to hear what happened to me earlier. Curious to hear what had transpired after I got my balls handed to me when the wifey caught me sneaking back through the gate, they quickly ushered me to the big plush couch. After settling in, with one hot young babe on either side, I went into explicit details about the punishment my wife gave me. I told them how she had shamed me, and how deeply hurt I was. Honestly, I wasn't sure if the girls were getting hot listening to every last detail, or genuinely were trying to console me. I didn't give a shit one way or the other. I just loved the attention and having four hands rubbing me all the right ways and them caressing me and both of them kissing my neck and face. Addie and Maggie smothered me with affection as their hands competed to hold my hardening.
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”“You know I hate giving up,” Jacobs said.“We might as well face facts,” Scott said. “They’re smarter than smart. I’ll contact the University. Tomorrow. Let them have a whole day with our prodigies.”On the morrow, the Admissions office asked where the trio gone to school. Headmaster Scott didn’t know... “But it was somewhere in the southeast United States.”“Oh, you want the International Office. Just a mo and I’ll ring through.”“International Student Affairs, how may I direct your call.”Headmaster Scott had just begun the worst day of his life.Whereas Scott had been top dog in the local education market, he found himself on the bottom rung in matters of importance when dealing with the next tier. Headmaster Scott was bustled from pillar to post.Rather than hearing “Yes sir,” in response to his requests he was hearing, “That’s not our department.”He was really not used to the other end of the line suddenly gone silent and then hearing a Click and a dialtone.Consider, International.

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