He was presently working in a 1962 Pontiac station wagon. She had suggested that they rebuild the motor, add two 4 bbl. carbs, and lift the back about...6 inches. Her father had had a pink one with a white top. She showed him pictures of it, and he had agreed that those colors would be very sharp. They had it off the frame, and had it mostly sanded down, and were waiting on some of the parts for the motor. He had had to special order an intake manifold for the carbs.Michael had been listening for. “See,” Daddy said, hiding his grin. “She is a charitable woman. She wants to help out all those poor, lost souls.”Daddy’s hypocrisy knew no bounds. He could preach to his flock about the dangers of sexual immorality, how loose women lured men into sin, and how fornication outside of marriage, and inside it should only be for procreation, lead straight to damnation all while his cock was still wet with my sixteen-year-old cunt. I loved helping Daddy “get ready” to give his sermons every Sunday. One that said 'I know why you are here'. That look I have seen so many times in the eyes of black women when I turn up in some bar or club that is predominantly populated by blacks. White women with that itch that only black can scratch. I averted my eyes from her gaze as the bar tender himself served me, his smile was also that knowing one!I made my way to the bar, ordered a Smirnoff Ice, and then settled into a seat, at a booth in the corner. Letting out a long low sigh of sudden comfort.. "Why on earth do you think I wear this blouse unbuttoned." She rolled her eyes and walked away, allowing you to take in her pleasantly round ass. She is far shorter than you, and you wonder if part of the issue is that you have no choice but to look down when you talk to her.Emily's a bit more mysterious. She's pleasant, and her blonde hair is often worn just past the shoulders, and her blue eyes are at times piercing, and at other times gentle. Her manner is the same, though she tends to be.