“Take it slow, son” he pleaded. By then I was in the throes of lust for dad’s cock. I had grown to crave it and fantasize about it even when we ...ere apart. Once I felt his pre-cum emerge from the opening I leaned over and buried my head in his lap and drew in that penis. I made love to him with my lips, my hands, and my throat. Dad immediately leaned back, pushed his trunk forward and began breathing in the familiar way I had come to recognize. He was getting close to gushing. We both had. "I am shocked she knows about the drinking, blink a few times, and ask, "How did you know about the drinking?"Jens grins at me and answers, "Maria, vodka, even good vodka which you didn't drink because you drank crappy vodka, still leaves a telltale scent on your breath. Many times your breath smelled like a distillery!"Ivan interjects, "I not sure if crap is a good or bad word."Hells bells, I've about had my fill of Ivan's politically correct grammar! We have been walking on eggshells around. More

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