“Kathy?” “Yes?” “Oh nothing just thought I would let you know that I might be a while.” “That’s fine I’m still making the dinner.”...With that in mind I run back into her room and start to look at each and every picture of Kathy. I cannot contain myself any longer I rip my jeans and boxers off and start to stroke my erection slowly savouring every last picture. After a while I notice that most of the pictures had a different guy in them. Not really caring too much I continue to stroke myself. I. They both squat down, as though choreographed, and each one starts at the toes of one of my boots.This apparently won't be a pat-down like I've seen on cop shows. They aren't patting at all. Their strong fingers never break contact as they work their way up my foot, and they seem to be carefully feeling the contours of my body, as though the smallest unexpected shape might be a threat.They work smoothly up my calves, staying in unison. As they reach my knees I am surprised that they do not. More

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