“Civia,” I asked, “are there foods that either of your parents don’t like? I’m in charge of figuring out what we’re having tomorrow night ...hen they’re here.”“Not much. Dad and I don’t like broccoli and Mom doesn’t like cooked spinach. Otherwise, I don’t know of anything else that they really don’t like.”“Do they like lamb?”“Yeah, we have that once or twice a year.”“All right, we’ll do that.”Once I got confirmation that we could get a three-rack lamb crown roast, I texted Dad and the Moms to ask. He looked down at me for a moment then told me to stand up, he told me to turn around getting a good look at me. Facing him he reached for my panty covered genitals rubbing them through the unclean cotton. He them moves his hand up to feel my chest before pulling my pantys down slightly so he could play with my dick and my ass, my cock might as well had been a toothpick in his large gnarled old hands. I pretty much just let him did what ever he wanted, not that I could of stopped him. He was. More

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