..On your, your, dick and your stuff,” he finally said. “What stuff?” I was still smiling and using the saccharine tone, managing to look...a bit inquisitive. “Your...” I knew his mind was whirring. He was searching his memories for the polite word for the stuff he’d been choking on. I knew it was a memory he would not find. The only words I had the simulator program into the boy’s memory were idioms. He knew all the bad words for my stuff, but not one proper or polite word for. . but the door to the pool was left ajar.I opened it, and I closed it, making sure it wasn't left ajar.Walking into the very well lit pool area there was only one person sharing the space with me. Tony. Sitting on the edge of the spa he looked just like the photo he had sent through but this time wearing a classic black speedo brand speedo. Tony is big. A real mans man and if we still had lumber jacks, that is what Tony would be. He looked his full six and a half foot tall, outweighed me by. More

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