“Why the fuck did you do that Mr. Smith,” she said as I quickly pulled her sub-machinegun from her hands and pinned her to the wall.Trying my best...to not have my voice crack I said, “Getting your head out of your wet pussy to get you back into keeping us alive. I’m really thrilled I manage to turning you on. Right now that isn’t what we need to be thinking about. You are almost as good a shot as I am. We need that focus right now.”The fire didn’t go out of her eyes. She soon looked like a. They thought poker night was a really great idea, too (agree to disagree, Mandy would tell them.) So she let them send dick pics and vids of themselves masturbating and Mandy might have sent a couple bikini pics. Could Dad really blame her? He was the one who took them in the first place! Apparently he did blame her, when Mandy walked inside he was sitting on the living room couch with a stern look on his face, arms folded across his beer belly, her cell phone on the coffee table. Daddy looked. More

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