“I say,” a gruff voice enquired, “Who has been fucking whom?”“Tis I father, fucking Lucinda’s whore.” I announced.“You bloody fool she...is not a whore but Arbuthnot Pattimore’s daughter, heir to his fortune,” he declared.“Awfully sorry,” I exclaimed, “I’ll ask properly next time.“What next time?” Miss Pattimore snarled, which I admit annoyed me, as she was wiping Lucinda’s juices from her fist while dabbing her lower lips with the other hand at one and the same time.“Am I that repulsive?” I. It was about 10 at night, on a Saturday. No plans for the night—it was storming pretty hard, and I was bored. I jumped up from the couch, and tossling Dustin's hair, just said “let's go down stairs”. He hesitated for a moment, figuring I assumed what that meant. We get down to the basement and I grab a beer from the mini-fridge. I look over at Dustin and ask him how many push-ups could he do. Replying he didn't know, I ordered him to drop, and start. He wasn't really in the mood I guess, but. More

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