Wife's in the hospital giving birth... I'm here at the cabin getting drunk with her sister and mother and I dunno what just happened, but there I was, taking a wee in the bushes with my 10 inch d*** waving in the wind while I'm thinking up hackneyed plots to make it seem like secretly and habitually peeping in on the 46 year-old mother of my wife in her various states of undress isn't disturbingly sleazy and depraved. For instance, one such excuse may be for me to say, it's okay because she's got big jugs. That's the best I got but it'll have to do if I gotta spin this out over and over every week on a confession website. Anyways as pathetic as it sounds that's my line of reasoning, with my big ol' dinkie in my hand, and as if I haven't already stretched credibility straight through this paper thin plot like a finger through a rest stop bathroom tissue, whodathunkit but sister inlaw stumbles right up on me. "Caught you red-handed," she says. She says other things but they're pointless because they're censored by the website and just show up as stars after a letter, and I lack the imagination to work around that. Long story for once mercifully short, turns out sister inlaw is as easy as a pizza boy on delivery in a skin flick, cause she doesn't have on any undies! Har de har har, I guess it was a real turn on for her that I count how many times she goes to the bathroom, and for how long. So, what happens next? Nothing! Nothing ever does in these stories. But get ready for five more repetitions of this very same idea with slight variations by the end of the week! Wheeeeee!