I was enraptured to see some small drops of the liquid spill ever so slightly from the edge of the cup to drop languidly upon those smooth and soft hi...ls of flesh, to trickle down into the folds of her deep cleavage. She seemed not to notice, although I could not take my eyes from the sight. I glanced up to see her own eyes searching mine. ‘Why sir,’ she said, softly, ‘do I spy you looking at my longing girls thus as I would imagine, that you may have…’ she trailed off, then focusing anew,. Needless to say, I was a daddy's girl, through and through. My mother was a hard woman to love, and even harder to live with. She had a vicious temper and tended to self-medicate with alcohol a bit too much. My father, on the other hand, could do no wrong, in my eyes. When I was five, my dad changed jobs for health reasons, and his new job required him to be out of town during the week, leaving me home with my mother. She was very strict, in her household rules, and if I wasn't. More

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