Then she said the magic phrase: "Please, don't call the cops or my parents.....please......I'll do anything if you don't". Well.....what true-blue, ...ll-American, red-blooded pervert wouldn't want to hear that? I stopped being Mr. Security and started being Mr. Dirty Old Man Pervert and really looked at her. She was about 5'4".....100lbs., short reddish-blonde hair, B-cup tits under her t-shirt, and a nice ass packed into thigh-length shorts. I asked her to repeat what she had just said and. Instead of the usual pleasantries and a discussion of baseball standings with Dad, they had something to say and it floored me. Someone had made an offer on the house in Ithaca. The house that I lived in. That I'd grown up in. The house that I'd always considered mine. "I hate to push you, son," Dad told me. "I know you wanted more time out in California. But to tell the truth, you haven't said much about coming back. If you can give us a firm date on when you'll go back to Ithaca, we'll turn. More

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