Have we finally found something so debauched even you wouldn’t dare?” Fabienne said.“Non, Maitresse Fabienne! I am at your command!” my mother...muttered as she cleaned the dried cum from my night-shirt. I could not turn around to witness this humbling act, but I desperately wanted to see it. Nannette giggled at my predicament.“What is this unconscionable spectacle?” my father appeared from his bedroom. He was already dressed in his suit pants, white shirt, and suspenders. I admit I would have. She was absorbed in studying the wine glass in front of her. She didn’t look like she was learning very much. My visits to Backstreet Bernie’s were confined to occasional after-work weekdays, and Saturday afternoons. I limited my intake to one pint, although I might have a second one on Saturday. I would arrive after work for an hour or so, and Saturday mid-afternoon for a couple of hours. It wasn’t always that way. When Georgia first announced her departure, I was here almost every day, and. , Vicki and Deb arrived home. Together they came out to the patio to say ‘Hi’ and give me a kiss. I informed them Gene wasn’t home yet, so I’d wait a few minutes to put the steaks on. Deb wanted to freshen-up and change clothes, so they went in the house. Well, more time had passed and no Gene. Since the potatoes were about ready I put the steaks on. My wife had already prepared a salad, and about ten-minutes later the steaks was ready. We decided to eat outside, and I could tell the girls were. He laughingly thought some people would call this multi-tasking.The bartender was about five feet seven inches tall with dark brown hair that probably came down to just past her shoulders but now was up in ponytail. While he was impressed by how her bottom looked, he had to admit that her ample breasts were also an eye-catcher. A few freckles on a pretty face gave her an All-American girl look. She was actually quite attractive. He though it was somewhat odd that she was working as a bartender.