It made me sick to watch her flaunting her assets. I thought it was being disrespectful toward daddy.Mom would let us enter then she would do her slut...strut to our table. Everyone’s eyes were always on her. I once had that attention myself but no longer needed it or wanted it.I even enrolled at our local college to earn a business degree as it was daddy's wishes and also part of my deal on working for him. My classes were either early morning or late afternoon so I was able to still work and be. She came with my breakfast and again her dupatta was missing, I thought it was may be because of the increased heat and also I didn’t want to talk much because of what happened in the morning, I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable and leave the job. She came near me to keep the plate and glass of milk in front of me, as she bent a little I was able to see her beautiful and sharp cleavage, instead of getting back she remained in that position for longer duration than usual and I was. Besides, we always had great sex later on those nights. I told myself that she was just having harmless fun with the group of girls she was working with, and I saw nothing wrong with it, even if she was now getting home later than usual.Then one Monday morning, a few weeks ago, I got an e-mail from someone who had simply signed it 'A Friend'. I came close to deleting the message without reading it but on second thought I took the time to read it. It went like this.I WAS AT THE BLACK CROW LAST. Sounded like she killed a huge duck. It was total romance. She never topped that one. I would get the best results with her sticking my tongue up into her bung pie as far as I could and massage her rump while tossing her salad. Sometimes it would happen right away but sometimes it could take 20 minutes before it would come poot pooting out. The romance saved my marriage. You do the math. I figure that 3 farts per week over a year works out to about 156 farts. So in 20 years, I've inhaled over.