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“It’s not you, promise. It’s just … hell, it seems that the list of strange things I can’t explain just keeps getting longer. I don’t know if it is something I should be worried about or not. And, if I should be worried, what exactly is it I would be worried about?” We were walking back to the cottage and before I knew it, we were sitting on the chairs on the deck, another mug of coffee in my hand. But what could Amy do about any of it. Nothing. But, maybe that wasn’t what I needed, to have someone do something. Maybe I really just needed to have someone to pour out to, get it out of my head for once, let the light of day show me I had nothing to be concerned with.“You might be sorry you asked …”“Even if all I can do is listen and provide a shoulder, I would never be sorry.” She shifted in her chair to face me more directly, “Come on, spill it.”I smiled. It felt like it could be best friend girl talk at a favorite coffee house. I took a deep breath and tried to start. “Okay … well,. Idle chat went on for a while as Tanya kept looking at me while she gently caressed my thigh until Carol finally asked, “Do you like Avis?’ she asked Tanya. Tanya looked at me, reached over with her hand and placed it around my head and again pulled me to her, “OOH, Yes” and promptly began kissing me again. This time I responded by reaching over and placing my hand on her head. For a few minutes we sat there embracing one another and kissing with a deep passion, our tongues exploring each other`s mouths, the sounds of our lips smacking carrying throughout the living room. I faintly heard Carol ask Jon if he liked what he saw and he must have said yes. By now I was deeply entranced in Tanya’s embrace and kisses that my mind could only think of the immense pleasure I was feeling. Without realizing it, Tanya had started to caress my tits through my dress and bra, squeezing them hard, rubbing my tits with a force that made me tingle. She suddenly broke off, started to rise off.
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There were many creeks in this mountainous region, and it was necessary to cross Muddy Creek, Green Creek, and others, upon culverts. Passepartout grew more and more impatient as they went on, while Fix longed to get out of this difficult region, and was more anxious than Phileas Fogg himself to be beyond the danger of delays and accidents, and set foot on English soil. At ten o’clock at night the train stopped at Fort Bridger station, and twenty minutes later entered Wyoming Territory, following the valley of Bitter Creek throughout. The next day, 7th December, they stopped for a quarter of an hour at Green River station. Snow had fallen abundantly during the night, but, being mixed with rain, it had half melted, and did not interrupt their progress. The bad weather, however, annoyed Passepartout, for the accumulation of snow, by blocking the wheels of the cars, would certainly have been fatal to Mr. Fogg’s tour. ‘What an idea!’ he said to himself. ‘Why did my master make this.

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