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I was nervous, and she looked back at me and smirked. She was poking fun at me. I resolved if the girls crossed without fear, then I would cross. I let them go first, though, just in case.We waded across, and I had to admit that there was a new electric charge in the air once I left the confines of Sunny Manor.It was purely in my head, but realizing I was no longer in a private community that condoned nudity made it seem far more risky to run around in the humid Florida wilderness.There were no street lights and nothing but swamplands around the gravel road that led up to the trailer park. There were plenty of gnats and mosquitos to keep us company. I kept slapping myself to keep them off me.Stacy poked me quickly in the nuts and said that she saw a mosquito on me. Waverly chuckled and announced, “Quarterback Sack!”I slapped Stacy on one of her bald pussy and said playfully, “Wide receiver!” She was wet, and I felt her entire clit hood when I slapped her pussy with the palm of my. What she did do was write everything down carefully in her perfect little handwriting. Her notations looked like she had typed them out. When she did any math at all, everything came out to round numbers. Unless she was cooking. Cook? My God, could she cook! Her Mother wrote down the recipes, without fail Kirsten got out the little book, followed every step, right down to the fraction of a teaspoon for seasoning, timing it to the second. She had a little tool that she used measuring. Interestingly, her Mother’s handwritten recipes all looked to be typed out, also. I remember her Dad making a wisecrack one day about Kirsten being probably from the mailman after she made one of her strange comments about something. I defended her by telling him the mailman sure did a damn fine job. He just grinned at me. I noticed her Mother laughed out loud at that one. When we got a computer, I set up an email address for her. One day she mentioned that nobody ever emailed her, so I went in to check.
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