"Mrs. Carey," I smiled, "the one that told you I was being fucked on the doorstep." Language Martina." dad said firmly, "Anyway who said it was her." ...ho else would it be?" I grinned."Hmm, who else indeed." dad frowned, "Are you suggesting she made up the story out of spite?" Yes." I smiled."Well there's not much I can do about it today, the old...Mrs. Carey has gone away for the day," dad sighed, "but I'll certainly be having words with her when she gets back." Did you really believe I'd been. I figured she was hot back in her twenties and might still have a nice bod under her scrubs. Just thinking as she does her work. then Ingrid ask me to take off my pants so she can check my penis to make sure I had not injured it or something. I thought this to be strange as in the past Ingrid had never examined me. I have to admit I did enjoy having Ingrid fondle junk. The look on her face as she did this gave me the idea that she might be enjoying this a little. She asked me some questions as. More

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