Elisabetta? Is that Italian or Greek? Maybe Croatian? Mind mind is wandering, almost trying to escape from the embarrassment I know I am creating. May...e I'll ask her."Wheh...?" That's the best I can muster.She chuckles at my awkwardness. "I am from Greenville," she responds.I'm puzzled as Greenville is maybe a 7 hour drive from here, and far more refined than this rinky dink town. This awkward exchange continues on and on with her providing long and rather banal explanations to my half word. Sam was standing behind the box and her head was right on level with his knees and expanding crotch area. She smiled at his reaction and let her tongue come out to wet her already moistened lip with the perfect line applied with some degree of make-up artistry.“Unfortunately, it was that fish we had for dinner last night. I am afraid it didn’t quite agree with me.”He used that as a cover story because he certainly didn’t want to talk about the empty bottle of wine and the clerk of court’s. The next night we were drinking in the hotel bar, and she had picked up a guy. We were both so drunk nothing mattered. We had probably the wildest threesome I could've imagined. I don't remember too much from the night itself other than we did crazy shit. But I do remember waking up in the morning, her hand on my dick while she was blowing him. Looked at me and said "watch". I spent the next half an hour watching my girlfriend blow this guy. But I was getting oddly turned on. He kept asking me. “Mamma’s about to go find a switch to take to the both of you,” he said. “You need to talk to either her or me about whatever’s got you two all messed up.”“I said nothing is wrong!” she objected. She sounded almost scared, though, rather than angry.“Yeah, well...” he said. “I’m not buying that, and neither is Mamma, so you two had better decide what you’re going to do, cause you’re making life miserable for Mamma.”He left before she could respond.Erica opened her eyes wide in the dark and.