The Wilkerson InstituteChapter 2: Tuesday free porn video

I slept soundly that night. My first waking thoughts were of the delightfully warm ass pressed against my back. This brought back drowsy memories of the previous night’s last fuck, after I joined Terry in bed. Feeling my cock stiffen, my eyes still closed, I rolled over and pressed against her backside. I placed my free arm around her, and we sleepily moved together. My fingers slowly grazed over Terry’s breasts, as we slowly aroused each other. Strange, I didn’t remember her tits being this big the other night. But still, she was becoming quite aroused, and within minutes had lifted her upper leg slightly, and I slipped my stiff cock deep within her from behind. Rolling atop her, I began a long, slow thrusting.

“Oh, God, yes!” I heard a deep voice implore.

My eyes snapped open. That certainly wasn’t Terry’s voice. No wonder I had been confused earlier. They weren’t Terry’s tits! I stopped cold in mid-stroke. “Who are you?” I asked.

“Oh, God, don’t stop,” she begged. Too surprised for words, I began my thrusting again. This girl was a big, my height I guessed, brunette. At least I think she was my height. I mean, in bed, everyone’s the same height. She turned her face and looked back at me over her shoulder. “I’m Kathy.”

Planting my arms at her hips and holding myself above her, I asked, “Where’s Terry?”

“She had classes this morning. She asked me to fill in. She said it’d be worth it. Oh, God, it is! It really is!” She moaned as I plumbed her depths from the rear.

This girl was quite a mover. Her body writhed beneath me, her legs spreading and drawing together. In short order, she had kicked the covers from us. This was inspirational!

Reaching over, I grabbed my pillows. “Kneel,” I commanded, and when she brought her hips and torso off the bed, I thrust them beneath her pelvis. “Now, lie down again,” I told her. Her ass was now several inches higher, and I began thrusting heavily into her. This drove Kathy wild. Her legs were kicking behind me, as she tore at the sheets and screamed pleasure into her own pillows. Together we came wildly, my spewing cock forcing its way deeper and deeper into her wet and sloppy pussy.

I collapsed onto her back and rolled off her, gasping and sweating heavily. A minute later, she rolled next to me and handed me back my pillows. “Wow!” she said.

I turned the pillows over. With Kathy, the wet spot was prominent. Agreeing with her, I also said, “Wow.”

After about five minutes of cuddling, I stood and went to the can. When I came out, Kathy was out of bed, pulling on a T-shirt and shorts.

“I’ve got to go. Is that all right?” she asked.

I wasn’t sure I could take a double dose of this girl so early in the morning. I kissed her and said “Sure. Maybe we can meet again later.”

Kissing me back, she said brightly “Yeah, I’d like that. Bye.” And then she was out the door, barefoot. She was almost as tall as I was.

Well, so far, the day had proved interesting. What new wonders would be seen! Returning to the bathroom, I took a long shower, shaved, and brushed my teeth. Deciding to dress a bit more appropriately today, I simply wore slacks and a short-sleeved pullover. I left my room and headed down to the restaurant.

When traveling, I stick to basic bacon and eggs, over easy. I’m not really one for a big breakfast, normally having just cereal and juice at home. Somehow, slurping milk from my bowl doesn’t seem the thing to do in a restaurant. I dined alone, primarily from choice. I’m never at my best before my second cup of coffee, and religiously avoid breakfast meetings. Even when still married, I generally ate breakfast alone. Of course, a critic would say that was just another reason I was no longer married. Still, a number of lovely young ladies caught my eye, and gave some type of nonverbal indication that they’d be happy to sit with me. A lifetime of habit dies hard. I ate alone.

The morning double dose of caffeine generally makes me sociable again. By nine, I was up and about, so I headed over to the clinic for the blood pressure check. Get this out of the way, and my time would be all to myself.

Again, the clinic was empty except for the receptionist. Not Jenny, but another young girl. Still in the abbreviated uniform, though. I was still curious about the physical. Very unusual, that. She greeted me and ushered me into the same examination room as yesterday. My short sleeves obviated the need to undress. I hopped up on the table to wait.

Almost immediately, Jenny popped in through the side door. “Good morning, Mr. deFrame. How are we feeling this morning?” she asked brightly.

Good Lord, they even talk that way here! “I don’t know,” I responded. “I feel pretty good. How do you feel?” Why do they always talk in the plural? Or does the medical profession prefer to use the ‘Imperial’ we?

Jenny just laughed. “I feel pretty good, too. I can tell you’re feeling feisty, as well. Over your jet lag? Good.” She kept up a light chatter, as she quickly and efficiently pulled out a whatchamacallit and took my blood pressure. “Excellent. Right within normal parameters,” she pronounced. “I’ll make sure to tell the doctor.”

“Great,” I said. I hopped off the table and headed for the door.

“Oh, wait,” she said before I had opened the door. “The exam isn’t done yet. Remove your pants.”

Confused, I simply said “Huh?” The quack had simply wanted my blood pressure. What was this about?

Jenny gave a sly smile and looked up at me. If anything, the zipper on her uniform was even lower today than yesterday. The cleavage showing was quite nice. She backed up to the end of the exam table and hopped up on it. “I need to take your temperature, and I plan on using your thermometer.”

My hand dropped from the doorknob, and I turned to face her. Grinning, I walked to her, and said “Really?” I unbuckled my belt. “Just how do you do this?”

In response, Jenny grinned back, and brought her hands up to her collar. Grasping the crisp white fabric with one hand, she used the other to completely unzip her uniform. It fell away from her lush body to reveal what little she had underneath. This consisted of a small and lacy white bra and a white garter belt holding up very sheer white stockings. Then she leaned forward and unzipped my pants. They slid to my knees, leaving my erection pointing at her with my balls swinging in the breeze. “You simply insert your thermometer and move it around. I’ll be able to tell if you’re hot or not.”

What an interesting medical technique. I wondered if the AMA had learned it yet. Certainly, it would reduce people’s reluctance to go to the doctor! Still, my height and the height of the table weren’t going to work. I was going to have to stand on tiptoes, not a great position to insert the thermometer. Looking down at the base of the table, I discovered the answer.

The table was of the solid type, with drawers and so forth built in. Pulling my pants up again, I buttoned them without zipping, so my cock jutted through the opening. I gently kicked two side plates, one on each side, popping them open. As I suspected, inside were a pair of gynecological stirrups. Reaching in, I pulled them out and up, locking them in position. Jenny squealed in delight and kicked off her heels. Next, I pulled out a small step stool at the base of the table and stepped up on it. The altitude problem was solved. Ah, Yankee ingenuity in action!

“This should work much better,” I said.

“Oh, my, yes,” said Jenny. She lay down on the table and scooted her ass forward to the edge. Lifting first one leg, then the other, I gently placed them in position in the stirrups. Jenny squirmed around a bit to get comfortable, and I unbuttoned my pants again. I placed my erection along her lower lips and slid it forward on the outside. This was easy to do, for despite long brown hair hanging loosely around her head, her pussy was as bare as a baby’s behind. She was shaved completely bald, which I found quite erotic. Her pussy gaped open, and the bright inner pink was blocked only by my cock sliding in the valley above it. I rubbed the underside here for a couple of minutes, my engorged head ringing the doorbell of her clitoris. This was very large, and very visible, protruding redly from between her labia. Jenny relaxed and closed her eyes. Moaning lowly, she reached between her breasts and undid the front clasp on her bra. Heaving breasts, straining against the sheer lace, burst free and upwards.

No longer capable of holding back, I entered her on my next thrust forward. In this position, her cunt was most capable of taking me, and my cock easily disappeared within the naked lips. Reaching down, Jenny grabbed the stirrup uprights, and pulled herself down towards the edge, arching her back and meeting my penetration. Now it was my turn to groan, and loudly. As each inch entered her, no, as each millimeter, moved inwards, her pussy was twitching and spasming around me. Her pussy lips were eating and nibbling at me better than some women had used their regular lips. I watched, fascinated, as I saw her inner lips relaxing and contracting around me, as first I moved in and then pulled slowly out, but not too slowly.

Jenny’s eyes were still closed, as she grasped the supports and bucked against me. Her C cup breasts jiggled in time with her rapid thrusting, her large soft nipples moving atop them like soft cherries on large bowls of Jell-O. Inspired, I wrapped my hands around her thighs and began some heavy-duty thrusting of my own.

Jenny’s contractions seemed to increase in speed and power. Her ass began to really squirm all over the end of the table, wrenching on my buried root. Her tits wiggled and jiggled in motions that a computer couldn’t analyze. After only about ten minutes the orgasm I had been desperately holding out against swept over me. Pulling her thighs rigidly against me, I rammed into her, spewing jism into her cunt. Jenny came, too, clenching her cunt tightly around my engulfed dick, and murmuring out her pleasure. Locked in, my cock spasmed out an endless supply of cum, but all too shortly the moment ended.

After a standing eight count, Jenny’s twat relaxed, and my lifeless prick slid out, followed by our juices. Reaching behind her, Jenny grabbed a handful of tissues. I reached up and lowered her legs from their resting places, and the nurse sat up. First, she wiped my cock off, then her gaping gash. Stepping down off the stool, I pulled up my pants and refastened them. “Well?” I asked, “Is my temperature okay?”

Jenny smiled as she stepped down from the table. Redoing her bra, she said “Excellent. If you want, we can schedule a daily checkup, just in case.”

I continued tucking myself in. “And what would the doctor say about that?”

Slipping into her heels, and zipping up her uniform, the girl laughed. “I wouldn’t tell the doctor, but I might just tell the other shifts.”

I smiled and kissed her. “Thanks for the checkup.” And then I was out of there, intent on seeing what the rest of the day held.

The rest of the morning was quiet. I figured a nice long walk would do me good. As I wandered back through the lobby area, I heard a soft, feminine voice call out my name. Stopping, I turned in its direction.

“Mr. deFrame? Terry asked me to look you up,” said a young woman. If she wasn’t a minor, then I didn’t know anything about women. Which might be the case anyway.

“Oh?”

“Yes. I’m Julie, and Terry said you’d be wanting a tour this morning of the school. And perhaps the rest of the grounds?”

Now what exactly did that mean? Around here, I couldn’t be at all sure. I casually looked the girl over. Slim, almost willowy. Late sixteen, maybe seventeen, quite pretty. A little above average height. Light chestnut hair. A junior “student”? Or perhaps not, I had no way of knowing.

“Well, I was planning on a walk anyway. We’ll just put some purpose to it,” I said.

“Excuse me, Mr. deFrame,” interrupted a young woman behind the front counter. “Your appointment for tomorrow morning with Mr. Wilkerson has been moved up to nine. He called to say his schedule had opened. Is that all right with you, sir?”

“Yes, quite. I look forward to the meeting.”

“Very good, sir.”

I turned back to Julie. It was only then I noticed that for the first time in my visit one of the staff type individuals wasn’t in some type of uniform. Well, I gathered that none of the girls were part of the permanent staff. But what else could I call these highly decorative worker bees. Perhaps uniforms were only worn on duty. But if so, wasn’t this tour duty? Every step took me deeper through the looking glass. I resolved to simply wonder silently.

Julie wasn’t in one of the chic, short and tight, suits the other reception and concierge ladies were wearing. Instead, she was dressed quite becomingly, in a loose, high-necked sweater and a tartan plaid skirt that dropped about halfway between her knees and her ankles. But not a simple plain skirt. This was some kind of wrap skirt that buttoned on one side and was held together at mid-thigh by a large brass pin. Through the slit, where the wrap overlapped, I could glimpse long, lightweight, black high-heeled boots, but not the heavy and shiny kind worn by leather fetishists. No, these were of some very thin, stretchy, matte fabric. Strange boots? Stockings with shoes built in? Whatever they were, they seemed quite long, disappearing above the gap where her skirt swung open as we walked.

For, imperceptibly, we had begun our walk, Julie slipping her arm in mine and leading me outside. It was cooler today, and I mentioned it to her.

“Yes, there’s a front moving in. We’re supposed to get rain tomorrow. Maybe the next day also.”

“It’s beautiful down here. Is the weather always this nice?” I asked.

“Well, summer is really hot and humid, or at least this last one was. But I haven’t really been here long enough to say.”

I was tempted to ask how long she had been here, but something, maybe the way she said it, made me stop. Somehow, I knew that this would open some old wound. Old wounds don’t have to be that old to be deep and painful. It also made me realize that this girl, if she hadn’t been here a full year, was young. More questions for Mr. Wilkerson.

We walked through more of the gardens, and for the first time I saw what appeared to be some of the permanent staff. Several healthy young men were working in the gardens, wearing official looking work clothes, supervising several of the girls weeding and tending flowers. Again, something in their manner, and the way they gave orders to the girls, told me these weren’t locals just called in to mow the lawn. And then it struck me! They weren’t Mexican. Oh, they had dark tans, but they were just tans, not a Latino’s skin coloring. And I realized that all of the women I had seen so far were North American Caucasian. No blacks, no Latinos, no Orientals. Curiouser and curiouser. I was in a small enclave of the white US in the middle of the Yucatan Peninsula.

Eventually, we came to a low building behind a hill from the main resort area. Less than a mile away from the main area, it was completely hidden and unseen, and I suspected for most of the guests, unknown. As we entered, I realized the building actually was built into the hill and was larger than it appeared.

“This is the school and dormitory for all of the students,” said Julie.

“Do you live here?” I asked.

“Last hall, second floor,” said Julie with a smile. “And no, you can’t see. The dorm rooms are completely off limits,” she said, guessing my next question.

“Why’s that?”

“Hmmm, well, Mr. Wilkerson says it’s simply our place, where we can kick back and do what we want. No orders or anything.” What an interesting fellow, this Wilkerson. “Anyway, it’s just a bunch of dorm rooms. I mean, like mine is just a disaster right now!” she laughed.

Leading me on, she continued, “Now down here are the classrooms. There’re only six, and we go to classes either mornings or afternoons. Or did Terry tell you this already?”

I assured her that Terry hadn’t told me much at all. “Just keep going, I’ll let you know if you repeat her.”

“Okay.” She led me up to a window that opened onto a small classroom. Inside, a teacher was standing at a blackboard, demonstrating something involving English and sentence structure to a small class of young ladies. “Now, they can’t see you. It’s a one-way mirror, like on TV.” Goggle-eyed I stared at the students.

First, the range of ages was considerably greater than anything I had expected. Some looked in their early twenties, others no more than mid-teens. Younger than Julie! And their uniforms! They all wore long gowns and high heels. The gowns were in a variety of light pastels and seemed slit quite deep both at the front and back, top and bottom. Like sheer, opaque, evening gowns.

After a few minutes, I stepped back and walked on down the hallway, Julie trailing behind me. The next two classrooms were in use, one teaching algebra or math, the other where the teacher was pointing to a large map of the world. Same range of ages. Same uniforms.

But the next three windows showed nothing. The rooms inside were dark, and nothing could be seen. “What’s taught in here?”

“Oh, that’s the sex lab.”

“Huh? What?” I asked incredulously. My jaw must have dropped to the floor.

Julie looked at the expression on my face and laughed heartily. “Sex lab! At least that’s what we call it. The actual course is called ‘Theoretical and Practical Aspects of Human Sexuality’. Or something like that, anyway. But we just call it ‘Sex Lab’.” She laughed again, a bright, smiling laugh. “Oh, if you could only see your face!”

“I imagine,” I said. “Sex lab, huh. I can’t imagine. I mean I really can’t imagine.” I simply shook my head.

“Yeah? Wanna see?” she asked. Not waiting for a reply, she went to the first door, and opened it. Walking in, she turned and hit a switch next to the door. “Come on in.” Julie motioned me in with a hand. “Come on, it’s safe!” She laughed some more.

Grinning ruefully, I stepped across the threshold. Looking around, I felt even more embarrassed by what I saw. It was just another classroom. Several diagrams and cutaway drawings of men and women lined the walls. It looked just like a biology classroom, and I said so.

“Uh, huh. That’s part of the course. I guess that’s the ‘Theoretical’ part. Doc Henson teaches some of this,” agreed Julie. Then the girl laughed again. “Wilma and Fred live in the closet.”

“Wilma and Fred?” I asked stupidly. I had a sneaking suspicion that much of what I was saying in sex lab sounded stupid.

“You know, the Flintstones?” Julie walked over to a closet and opened it up. Coming closer, I could see a pair of mannequins, one male, one female, inside. Both had on leopard-spotted toga type outfits. “God only knows when, but somebody once dressed them up like this, and we just keep them that way. They come to all our parties!”

Now it was my turn to laugh. The dorm sounded like my freshman dorm in college, constantly on the verge of expulsion and/or arrest. Regaining some composure, I walked through an open doorway to the next classroom. But it was dark, and I couldn’t see anything until Julie passed me and headed to the door, turning on the lights.

Now this was a bit more what I had suspected. In the front of the classroom were three standard size beds, in the rear, a semicircle of chairs. Instead of blackboards, corkboards lined the walls, with pictures and diagrams of all manner of ways and positions to have sex. More than a few I had never seen before.

“This must be the ‘Practical’ part,” I said dryly.

“About as practical as you can get,” responded Julie.

“And what’s in here?” I asked her, turning towards the door leading to the last classroom.

“One could say that’s where advanced classes are taught,” she said mysteriously.

“Hmmph.” I marched in. Knowing where the lights were now, I soon had them turned on. I turned and looked on a scene worthy of Fellini.

Along one wall were a number of shelves containing what must be one of every vibrator, dildo, and sexual device known to mankind. Some I couldn’t name but had heard of; some I couldn’t even guess about! Parts of the wall had shackles and chains mounted. No beds or desks, but a few padded benches, stools, couches, and armchairs. A trapeze swung gently from the ceiling, as did a chair with the bottom cut out. I knew what that was for!

“Holy shit!” I exclaimed.

“Like I said, advanced techniques.”

“I guess!” I stared for several minutes, and then opened the hall door and stepped out. Leaning back against the wall, I took a deep breath.

Julie followed behind me, turning off the lights. “Are you all right, Mr. deFrame?” she asked, a look of concern on her face.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, just fine,” I responded. “That’s just a little bit much, though, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You get used to it, I guess.”

“You mean ... you?”

“Yep. We all have.”

“Wow!” Looks were deceiving. No matter what these girls’ ages were, they knew more than any girls that age I had ever known had ever known. No wonder the techniques performed on me had been so flawless. These girls had training! Practice does make perfect!

I stood up again, and Julie took my arm. “That’s really about it,” she said. “I mean, there’re the libraries, but you wouldn’t want to see the one here.”

“Oh?”

“Nah. I mean, the one here just has textbooks and encyclopedias and books like that. The interesting one is in the main building.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” I told her. “What makes it so interesting?”

“Well, that one is for the patrons. The textbooks have nothing to do with reading or writing, at least.”

“Really? No kidding?”

By now we were back on a path to the resort. Along the way, I asked Julie where the jogging track was. “I’d like to run this afternoon. It’s been a few days, and I need to stay in shape.”

“Sure. It’s over here,” she answered, leading the way. We walked along the track until we were back to the resort building. “One lap equals two kilometers.”

“A mile and a quarter.”

“Close enough.” Julie led me in a side door, and we ended in a hallway off the lobby. Leading me through a pair of French doors, she said “This is the main library.”

It was a small room, but several bookcases and sets of shelves divided the room into a few alcoves. No desks or study carrels, but some nicely appointed couches and love seats. It had been a long walk. I flopped down on a love seat, and Julie sat down to the left of me, crossing her legs.

“Well, kid,” I said. “That was quite the nickel ride.”

“Maybe so. I’m sorry if I went on and on. I should have stopped sooner.”

“No, no,” I said. “Absolutely fascinating! Wouldn’t have missed a minute of it.” I reached over and patted her knee where it stuck out of the tartan plaid. “Hey, I gotta ask, just what are these things?” I asked, rubbing her knee. “Boots or weird stockings?”

Julie shifted the skirt so that both legs below the brass pin came into view. “Sort of both. They’re kind of stockings with shoes built into the bottom.”

“Really?”

“Uh, huh. One of the patrons noticed them in a Playboy and mentioned them one day. So, Mr. Wilkerson ordered a few pair.”

“Aren’t they hot for Mexico?”

“Nope. They’re really quite light and they breathe great. But not all the girls can wear them. Some are allergic to the fabric, or whatever. Like them?”

I smiled. “Yes, I do. Quite a bit. Just how long are they?”

Julie gave a sly smile. Reaching down, she unpinned the pin holding her skirt together, and placed it on the table beside me, reaching across my lap to do so. The back of her hand rubbed across my crotch, not so innocently. The skirt gapped open quite a bit more. “Fairly long, don’t you think?”

“Um, yes.” My mouth dried considerably. Julie’s legs were exquisite, long, lean, and very curvaceous. She moved them and crossed them the other way. The skirt parted even further, and I suspected the boots went all the way up.

Julie leaned back across me and picked up a large, coffee table size book from the table. This she handed to me. “This is one of the many books in the library here.”

’The Illustrated Kama Sutra’, the cover proclaimed, above a picture of a scantily clad couple in an interesting position. Nothing untoward could be seen on the cover, but neither did it leave any doubt as to what the position was for. “Take a look,” said the young girl.

I slowly leafed through several pages of the book. The couple were in all the pictures, he in a turban, she in various transparent veils. The printing and artwork were excellent, the photos tasteful, if explicit, the positions quite varied. But I could keep only one eye on the pictures, as beside me Julie moved one hand to the side of her skirt and undid the button at her waist. I was right, the boot tops did go all the way up, right to the dark brown curls at her groin.

Julie shifted her pert ass sideways and laid her head in my lap. As her hand rubbed the erection I had had for the last five minutes, her teeth began to undo my belt. Amazingly, without using her hands, she undid my belt, the snap, and the zipper. The first time she used her hands was to pull my engorged cock out of the pants leg it was residing uncomfortably in. Tugging my pants lower, Julie immediately took my cockhead into her mouth.

God, what tongue action! Knowing now how these girls learned this stuff didn’t alter my admiration a bit. It might even have increased it. Talent like this needed training!

Julie’s tongue swirled around my glans, even probing my urethra. Breathing through her nose, she still managed to suck like Dracula going for the jugular. Fuck the damn book! I tossed it to the side, and put one hand on her back, and the other on her head.

While it wasn’t meant to be so, Julie took the hand on her head as a sign for more. Without skipping a beat, she sank her head lower into my lap, seamlessly moving into a deep throat action. I think my favorite part was when I was fully buried in her mouth, her cheeks bulging, huffing and puffing around me, and she began to gently shake and wiggle her head. Damn near moved me off the seat! My left hand rubbed her back (no bra!) while my right hand rubbed the back of her head, moving her long hair out of the way, so I could watch. Jesus! I could do this forever!

For a while I thought I could, too. Julie’s tongue action made me cum twice. But each time, as my hips bucked upwards, she stopped all motions of her tongue and mouth, stopped the sucking, and firmly clamped the base of my cock. I’d heard of this before, but never had it done to me. The orgasm stopped as fast as it had started, and after a few moments, Julie started up again.

By the second orgasm, I had pulled her sweater up to her shoulders, and had reached under her to play with her nipples. These were small, pert, young tits. Julie would never grow to more than an A cup, but these were the perfect tits for the guy who thinks more than a mouthful is wasted. What do the French say? The perfect breast fills a champagne glass? Whatever. My second surge didn’t take as long as the first. After this one, I stopped her and pulled her sweater over her head and off her arms. Then, naked except for the boots, I pushed her head back in my lap. Moments later I spewed for real, Julie not stopping me this time, and I groaned in joy as I coated her tonsils.

Finally, my hips stopped bucking up into her mouth and I collapsed back into the cushions. Julie continued licking my cock and balls till they were squeaky clean, but her efforts had been truly monumental, and I didn’t resurrect. After a few more moments she sat upright and leaned against me, she still almost naked, me with my pants down. I turned to her as I fastened my britches. “Julie, just how old are you?”

“I’ll be seventeen next month,” she said, smiling.

“Kiddo, for whatever it’s worth, the lessons took. I sure never got a blow job like that when I was sixteen! Hell, I’m not sure I ever got a blow job when I was sixteen! You are one piece of work,” I said approvingly.

A big smile suffused her pretty face. “Thanks! Thanks a lot! I appreciate that.”

I stood up and helped her to her feet. Smiling, we dressed. I offered to take her to lunch, but she declined. Classes. Still, she walked me to the bar. And before we parted, she asked me an intriguing question.

“Mr. deFrame? You can help us in the training.”

“Hmmm? What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, class isn’t enough. If you’d let me, I’ll put your name on the list for training sessions.”

“Just what is involved in these training sessions?” I asked carefully.

“Oh, not much. Just some nights, when you’re available, one of the more experienced girls brings around one of the newer ones, so she can practice her lessons. You know what I mean,” said Julie.

“Hmmm. Yes, I do. Well, okay, I guess.”

“Great!”

After a light lunch, I returned to my room and changed into shorts and a tee shirt. This high living, the food and booze, was going to kill me if I didn’t get some exercise. Of course, around here I’d be more likely to have a heart attack with some young Julie working me over instead, the girl dutifully trying to resuscitate the wrong part of my anatomy. I resolved to go out with a smile on my face.