Mitch headed for the kitchen and the bourbon. Is it a rut if you enjoy it? I have come to be very fond of bourbon, but I am no connoisseur, I know he ...ikes Jack Daniels, but he also gets other brands on occasion. I’m not sure I can tell the difference from one time to the next. I just know I have come to like it and having a drink, either on ice or straight, is a nice after part of our sex, usually quietly embraced, sipping, and talking. Usually, the wood stove is blazing, allowing us to relax. They did what they did to survive. The oldest profession. Either embrace it, shrug it off, or make it worse by being ashamed. They seemed to choose the middle choice, probably the daughter more than the mother, who, like I said, enjoyed sex too much to really be a whore, but found more shame in the idea, ironically, than her prostitute daughter.“I should go,” I said.“I’ll call your dad,” said the mother.“Good,” Julie smiled.Her mother and I nodded. It felt like goodbye. The sex had been great,. It's going to be a life changer if he has his way. Opening the front door for her to step inside, he smelt her delicate perfume he loved so well. The amount of times he had wanted to grab her at work and fuck her was incredible. Denying himself of that pleasure and continue working as if nothing was being felt was even more incredible. "Gotta go Gerry. Don't depend on us. You can do this". He hung up before he could hear his boss spluttering out threats they both knew were meaningless. Seeing. His other hand began tracing up my leg towards my thigh. Gently, he massaged them. I felt like I was on fire. Every touch was like a jolt of lightning coming out of his fingertips. His head rose from my bosom and our lips met once more. I opened my eyes and saw his were shining like the sun in the sky. His hand was slowly tracing further up my skirt. I felt myself dripping in my pretty white French knickers. His fingers started to stroke the soft material. The pressure inside my thighs was.