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I’d build a table under the water for your seat to rest on so you could swing your legs in the water.”“I think I know what you’re talking about. I’ve seen men using a larger apparatus of the type to load and unload ocean ships at the ports and on the riverboats over at St. Louis and Kansas City. You’ll have to go to town with Ruby and order what you’ll need at the hardware store. Could you build it with the help of the women?”“I’ve no doubt that we could build it. Your women aren’t a bit afraid of work, from what I’ve seen.”“Joss.”“Yes Sir?”“Before you step down and help me off this buggy, you need to be aware that my wife and two daughters are standing behind you without a stitch of clothes on. You may as well get used to it, because they’ll never change when it comes to bathing here at the pool in decent weather.”“Like I told you already, I’ll never get used to it. But I got to tell you this too, Mr. Merle, I’ll never get enough of looking at a woman’s body ... clothed or unclothed. Awarm bulk lay behind him, and arm cupping his right breast. Wait asecond, breast? He sat bolt upright, hands on his... her? Chest. Sheerfabric splayed against full, d-cup breasts, the nipples hardening,protruding rubberly against the palms of his hands. In the next instant,his hand flew to his hair. The short, low maintenance crop was nowhere tobe found, his fingers instead tangled in a mane of soft, fluffy locks."What's the matter, babe?" a sleepy masculine voice sounded beneath him.He felt a hand trail up his spine, calloused fingers running over thesilky fabric at the back of his nighty. His fingers delved into thelittle furrows where the ridges protruded, accentuating her slenderbuild."Nothing!" he tried to say. The sound came out like a strangled yelp. Hecleared her throat with a delicate hurumph. "Nothing," he managed, morenormally. His voice sounded weird in his ears, a full octave higher thanthe thrum he'd grown up with. He had to face the evidence of his ownhands, or his.
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