After dinner I went back to work until about nine. I found Morgan lying in bed watching the 44-inch flat screen. “I’ll be right back; I need a s...ower.” I returned about fifteen minutes later dressed as usual for bed in a tee-shirt and gym shorts. Morgan was naked. “What are you wearing?” she asked. “Uh, my pajamas?”“I’m wearing my pajamas,” she replied pointing to her naked body. She turned, spread her legs apart and put her hands on her hips feigning anger.“You know, I don’t think I’ll. But Iva? I don't think I could ever tire of her. Her breasts were huge, particularly compared to her frame, but they weren't crazy big. Not to the point that they strained one's believability. The same went for her waist-to-hip ratio. There wasn't one woman amongst our kind, so far as I could tell, who had entirely realistic proportions. But Iva, like most women that weren't my mother, had measurements that were close enough to possible that your head didn't hurt when you looked at her. Now. More

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