The filthy, yellowed menu with 1970’s prices should have been Sam’s first clue. His eggs were limp, half cooked pools of salty slime, his toast se...med to have endured the ravages of a great flood, and not of butter. But the coffee was hot and strong, which was a blessing as the home fried potatoes tasted like and had the consistency of saw dust. Still, perhaps the most disturbing aspect of the awful meal was the enforced company of the crone that served Sam with his fare. It took the lieutenant. “You Bitch!” he bawled. “Now you’re really going to get it.”However, the knife was already at his throat again.“You lay one finger on me ever again, Terry Bradshaw, and I will wait till you are sleeping and I will cut off your balls and make you eat them!”The prick of the point of the knife on his neck advised him to stay silent, he nodded mutely and she backed away, and left the kitchen.Crossing the living room, she lifted her coat off the hook and unlocked the door.“If you walk out now, you. “You’d leave all this that you love?”“I love you more, so yes,” he said, hugging her to himself. “Of course I’ll move. As I said, to be with you is all that matters. It’s the only answer.”Sam sat silent and her eyes filled with tears.“Sam? What’s the matter now? Aren’t you pleased?”“Oh yes, my darling, I’ve just realised how much you really love me, what you’d give up for me.” And with that she buried him in a torrid kiss.When they emerged, Samantha was excited. Indeed she was usually so. He knew she had said she would be OK with that as part of the competition. The way he was kissing her, and the way his cock felt now, he'd be willing to forget the competition just for the chance to experience her body in a way no father was ever supposed to think about. Still he wasn't sure how she would react.Stephanie's response was to counter her father's invasion by putting her tongue into his mouth. Soon they were waging a lively little oral war where one would invade to be slowly forced.