His head was spinning."Don't you ma'am me, Adam," she said. The woman playfully spanked him. "Call me sweetie, honey, or cutie pie, or even plain ol' ...helley – just don't call me late for dinner."Adam found himself stepping over the threshold and into the house. It was warm and inviting, the walls painted in a maternal mixture of yellows and blues. A faint scent of baking – perhaps some cookies, or even an apple pie -- wafted through the air. He hadn't decided to go inside, but it was as though. I couldn’t imagine keeping up with Emma’s dad, who was pounding the Jack as we shot the shit about just about everything. Eventually, after a swig off the bottle, he blurted out, “Emma is one cute piece of ass, and I wanna make sure you’re the kinda k** that deserves to get that pussy. I’m happy you are.” I, equally drunk, blurted out, “well, I hope so, sir, I’ve got pictures of it right here on my phone,” and held up my phone to him, showing one of the naked pics she had sent me. She was bent. More

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