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Normally she would tell me when I asked her to wear something like thatshe had seen strippers wear things that were less revealing but thenagree to wear it but only in the bedroom.My sons were real men and I knew they had slept with various girls atschool before moving on to prettier girls.My daughters also wanted to date but I encouraged them to stay at homewith their Mum. I would explain to them that I did not want them beingtaken advantage of and they should not sleep around but wait until theygot married. I told them I did not want them making the same mistakes asother girls and they needed to learn that a woman's place was in thekitchen not down the pub.Anyway on a Saturday morning, the girls would go out shopping. They'd beout for the whole morning. As this became a pattern so another patternemerged which I guess I started when I brought home my girlfriend Anna.Then Andrew came home with Imogen and then Charlie came home with Tamsin.The boys of our family knew how to sow our. Being just a little over five feet, she was having trouble reaching that far so I walked up and reached over her head from behind. My front pushed against her backside and the feel of those creamy buttocks against me got an instant reaction of which she became all too aware. She enjoyed it for a moment wiggling that gorgeous behind of hers against me then turned and was shocked to find it was me and not Pete."Oh ... OH! Darin, Honey. I thought it was Pete!" Why would you think that?" I asked innocently, enjoying her discomfort."Why ... I ... that is ... uh ... thanks for the beans!" she gushed grabbing the can from my hand and turning to hide the several shades of red she was now showing."Any time!" I said starting to leave and almost breaking into laughter as Mom, still highly flustered, almost dropped the beans as she tried to open the can.Then there was the day Mom asked me to carry some clean clothes from the laundry to her room. I set the clothes on the bed then spied a silky.
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Get ‘em real wet, son.” We continued to piss on each other’s boots until we were empty. We both stuffed our cocks back in our jeans and got back in the truck with our wet urine-soaked cowboy boots. I turned over the big Ford engine. It came alive with a loud roar as I backed out of the dirt road and onto the two-lane. “Hey, dad,” I said as I pulled out my pack of smokes. “Have another Red?” “Hell, yeah. I’m getting’ to like these. Let’s go into town. We’re both gonna need more smokes.” We made a detour off the two-lane paved road and drove into our small hometown, went to the gas station and dad bought a carton. We loaded up on more Skoal and a couple of cans of Copenhagen. Dad bought a cold six pack of Rolling Rock and we hopped back in the truck, our boots making squishing sounds. Our socks and feet were swimming in our piss, but our leather boots did feel more supple. We drove along the country road drinking beers, shooting the shit, spitting and smoking more Marlboros. “I always.

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