Instead of proceeding toward the door to the house, she instead dropped her damp panties and bent over the hood of the car. “Do me right here. Rig...t now.”Adam needed no further encouragement. He had his pants unzipped by the time he reached the front of the car, and down the instant he moved in behind her. He pushed her skirt up with one hand, and guided his cock inside her with the other.Christine groaned as her nephew’s cock slid into her, filling her full. “I missed you.”Adam stroked. I couldn't find a single topic I believed she was interested in except clothes and parties. I may be socially inept, but I can tell when someone is "pretending to be interested."The next encounter was with Lorna Pearson, who rubbed her ... tits ... against my arm in the queue while I was waiting to pay for my meal. I had to be polite over the meal, when I really wanted to read my new 'Honor Harrington' novel. (Never heard of Honor? Science fiction by David Weber)By the end of the week I was. She was wearing a short denim skirt, a white cropped T shirt, denim jacket and cowboy boots, with a canvas bag slung over her shoulder. On any one else it could easily have looked trashy or slutty, but on her it looked just as elegant as if she were clothed head to foot in Dior. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Jo looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Or are you going to refuse the offer?” I swallowed hard. “God, no! Come in…” She walked slowly past me into the hallway, just a little too. Bisexuals. Gays. Heterosexuals. Strap-on fetishists. African-American male and female relationships. Bisexuality in the Black Community. Bisexuality in the Haitian Community. Lesbianism in the Black Community. The Rights of Men in an age of Feminist Domination. Or should I say Man-Hating Domination. Whatever. Potato or potato, it doesn’t matter. What I fought for was simply the right thing. The rights of Fathers in Politically Correct American Courts. Yeah, all the danger zones. In my time, I.