Armstrong demanded. “You claimed this place molested you, but here you are, doing things to that girl. You were ... were ... eating her pussy like a...dyke!”“Todd, I...” Mrs. Armstrong shuddered. “It’s this place. They’re blackmailing me.”“Because you were cheating on me!?” Mr. Armstrong roared. “Because you were eating Zoey’s pussy and that other woman’s? Whose else pussies were you eating? How many other women are you cheating on me with?”Mrs. Armstrong hunched over as she trembled on the bed.. He's not even been out on so much as a date." She nudged meforward with her hip, guiding me with the arm across my back. "I knowhe travels all the time, and anyone else in his position would hireescorts to help take their mind off their emptiness. But that's not howyour father works."Daddy remained in his large leather chair, arms crossed behind his headas he looked at the two of us slowly approaching. The smile on his facewas half-amusement, half-desire."See, for him, sex is meaningless. More

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