.not a complaint. Wild kids need control.“Hell no. The damn girl is a freakin’ genius. She was down at Bozeman...college at 16. The oldest boy stayed in Wyoming.”“How about the one at home? Pot smoker? Drinker?”“Skate board and snowboard.”“Well...that’s disreputable enough. Ought to be a law.” He was a skier.“So...we’re in agreement? She needs a husband? Right?”“Well, sure, all that money? She needs someone to guide and direct her.”I wasn’t home...about the time that conversation, Charles, the 544 and I were on our way to Portland to see IV (Four not Ivy.) We weren’t expected.The 544Judith Gap...a university engineering professor had a retirement home outside of Judith Gap. He died. The widow had an auction.“I gotta get outta here,” she said. “It’s the wind. It never stops.”And it was true...the geology and aerodynamics of Gap are such that the mountains act like a Venturi. Air going in is restricted...the speed increases in the neck...the speed falls away after it leaves the. It didn't look much like a study. It reminded me of my Aunt Bessie's "parlor" back home which was reserved for female chatter and the drinking of tea.I didn't know what to expect and was pleasantly surprised to find that Claire Poindexter looked more like a mature female in her mid-forties than her advertised age of 57 her sister had insisted was correct.The first thing that impressed me about Claire was her eyes. They were deep. So deep that one could get lost inside and never find their way back out again. Then there was her hair. It was radiant and had natural colors that declared it had never been bleached or dyed. Her breasts were mature and sagged slightly but that was to be expected because they were like artillery shells with perfect pointed nipples that begged to be licked and sucked. Going further south, I saw the outline of her pussy mound hidden under a soft clinging silk dress.It didn't look like she was partial to wearing undies."Claire Poindexter, Mr. (She paused to.
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