“Oh my!” she said. “Honey of course you are. I never thought anything else and you know that.”“Yeah, I guess,” he said.“You are the best...daddy in the world,” she said coming up to him and kissing him. “I mean the best. Our friend is the sperm donor, and he’ll get to see his child, and I hope he wants to. But, as for who the real daddy is, it’s you.”“Honey,” he said. “There’s another potential problem that we haven’t much discussed.”“Problem?” she said.“Yes, she doesn’t know about any of this.. Two ringy dingys. Three ringy dingys,” he said in his best Lilly Tomlin voice. He pictured the 43 year mother naked in his sleeper, flat on her back, reddish-blonde hair, pale skin, 34C still-firm titties, and her legs spread wide, exposing her bright red bush.Grace was gathering up the dinner dishes when the phone rang. She sat them in the sink and walked to the bar to grab her phone. “Hello.” “Hi Grace, how ya doing girl? It’s me, your trucker buddy, Cliff.” Not giving Grace a chance to. Panic gripped me, was this going to happen? I quickly the him a text, telling him the door was open and to just come straight in. Which he did, he found me in my living room on my knees. He was an older guy, but on the plump side, but I didn't mind.He smiled when he saw me kneeling on the floor, wearing only a pair of my wife's black Lacey hold up stockings. He came straight over to me, unzipping as he did. I was a little sad to see he wasn't yet hard, but I took his flaccid cock in my mouth. Patio? Well that was stretching it a bit -- actually it was a floating pontoon, a pier really, but the end opened out into a large area and he could sit comfortably there in the early evening sunshine, the warm south Cornwall sea breeze refreshing as he looked back up the walkway at the waterside thatched pub.She knew him, at least she'd said so. She had apparently attended one of his 'lectures' a little while ago, then something he'd said in an e-mail using his pen-name had apparently enabled.