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" Oh, I see, otherwise you'd have stayed away?" She asked."Nay, eventually I'd have come over and checked on you. We were told there was a woman coming to stay and she'd be alone. Not saying you can't take care of yourself, but coming over to say hello would have just been the neighborly thing to do." Well Philip, or Phil?" Either works. Dad's Chad." What time is dinner?" Six." Who's cooking?"Philip grinned and winked. "I am. Dad's up in age, so I'm staying with him. Mom passed a few months back. I got Pop duty."Tiara nodded her head. "I lost my parents last year in March. I'm sure he's still hurting, as are you."He looked back at his Dad's cabin. "Yes, he is. He misses her a lot. Some days he's okay, others he seems really lost. We all miss her. She was a diamond." Well, I'd be honored. I'll do a few strokes out here and then finish up some work I'm doing inside. Who else will I have the pleasure of meeting?" Tiara found herself looking for reasons to continue treading water near his. It had two bedrooms upstairs, and an office that could be a 6th bedroom in the middle of the two bedrooms. All the other bedrooms were in the basement.The two bedrooms upstairs were big, both of them had a big mirror on one of the walls. I went into the office and I noticed the walls between the two bedrooms had a curtain on the wall. I looked for a cord to open them, I pulled the curtains open and I could see into the bedrooms. With the light on in the office, I went back into the bedrooms. I couldn’t see into the office, it was a two-way mirror, I started to get hard again thinking about my girls in their bedrooms, with me spying on them as they dressed. I wonder who owned this house and what the two-way mirrors were used for.I went back downstairs, I met Nancy in the kitchen after looking at the house.“Well, how did you like it.”“I love it, but tell me, who put the two-way mirrors up in the bedrooms?”“The husband put the mirrors in years ago. One day he forgot to lock the office.
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I felt the pressure of my weight pulling on shoulder and elbow joints as my feet lifted off the stage. My arms pressed together and pushed my head forward, my hair hanging down in front of me. A slight cramping set in to my sides from the muscles pulled out of shape as I swung slightly back and forth, my pointed feet a few inches from the floor. With a quick, expert motion the executioner cut my dress up the center and then across the shoulders. It fell from my body to a heap on the floor. A quick rip and my panties were torn off, and I was hanging naked before the audience. Most had seen me naked before, some many times and up close, but there was still a murmur of appreciation that thrilled me. I heard the ripping of material and a moan of displeasure and wriggled a little to see the executioner cutting the jeans off of the novice. He had not realized that his clothes were forfeit during the procedure and had worn heavy denim, a big mistake. When the last of his clothes were.

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