One year later back in States
Shyla and Lyla saw my look of incredulity. They exchanged smirks and then looked back at me, smiling.
I shook my head in disbelief at the situation, then said tentatively, “I’m a little concerned about the zippers. How secure are they?”
“Oh Daddy, it’s not a problem,” said Lyla, with a characteristically innocent lilt to her voice. Her light grey eyes were so gorgeous, and combined with her bright blonde hair she looked like a sunny day personified. A sunny day with huge t**s, that is. When she pulled her “I’m-so-innocent” routine, I felt like I could dive into her eyes and be lost in them. “See?” she continued, “There’s a little hook on the inside of the suit that would have to be unclasped before the zipper can be undone.” She then demonstrated by unho
