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Loud, and I froze for a moment, listening intently if anyone was around who might have heard me. Finally, I put down my legs and straightened my clothes again, getting out of the office and into my car. I had found Kaylee's address in my contacts and was parked in front of her house 30 minutes later. While I was still wondering if I should go out and ring the door, she suddenly came out, peeking at my car and walking over to it cautiously. When she could see me sitting inside, she smiled and waved. She looked good, better than I remembered her. Her hair was blonde now, and about shoulder long, falling down on a light blue jersey sweat jacket, matching her pants. She wore some pink tennis shoes with it and had a similarly pink handbag slung around her shoulder. I unlocked the door for her. "Hey," she said quietly as she opened the door. "Can I get in?" "Sure," I replied smiling. She climbed into the car and I slowly drove off. "So, where are we going?" she asked. I shrugged. "Well, you. Rationalizing, or rather attempting to do so, this turn of events in my head, I took comfort in the fact that older men throughout history had found themselves sexually attracted to young boys. If the conquering Romans of old could actually have boys on retainer, as sexdolls to do with as they pleased, then I shouldn’t feel the need to be overly appalled by my mere thoughts. And also, once turned on it is easy to find unnormal relations enticing – something I knew far too well from these last years. Furthermore, I could swear, and still can, that somewhere I have heard the saying “a hot girl, with an ass like a little white boy”. I am absolutely certain that I’ve heard something like that being said. Sure, I’d had the thoughts, but it wasn’t as if I had acted on them like some pervert who couldn’t control himself... Sleep came eventually for my part, though it was irregular, and I had trouble finding peaceful thoughts every time I woke up. As the morning arrived, and Sandra gently.
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