”We must’ve had a look of shock on our faces, because he laughed right at us. “Ah, it wasn’t her fault. Bloody tractor backfired. Didn’t eve... know she stood on me.”I grimaced, trying to picture it.“Anyway, we’ll leave you boys to it,” he said, handing a couple of dark-glassed crate bottles to Lucy, who walked over to put them by the stall. “That’s eight percent of pure appreciation.” He winked, just as Lucy had done, and I had wondered who had copied whom. “Be careful of those ones — they’re. " he began, then looked up at Carol, back at the picture, and back to Carol again. There was no mistaking the face... "Yes, it's me," said Carol, as she reached into her pocket, "and since you seemed so... interested earlier, I thought you'd like that photo. These come with it." With that she pulled a pair of red panties out of her pocket, brought them down past Bob's node and placed them in his hands. Once again he smelled that odd musky scent, but now he knew where it came from."I do assume. Hell, she'd latched onto him in Chicago like a preying tigress, letting him know how it was with her by spreading those pretty legs the very first night. Christ, how she'd whimpered and squirmed, and how he'd socked the old cock to her... until she'd just lain there half crying and laughing when it was over, she was so happy. Well, that's the way it should be right from the beginning, the way he always told it in his stories, and he could damned well remember how jubilant he'd been just to see. My other hand moves up, cupping your young breasts, squeezing them through your top.“Dad!” you exclaim, pushing my hand away. “Stop it.”My hands are at your side, trapping you between me and the counter. “What? You know you liked it. Why else would you dress like that for me, honey?”“It’s my uniform!”Smiling as I move up along the sides of your waist, sliding my hands under your top. “Mmm… yes it is…” My hands cup your breasts through your bra, squeezing them gently.“Daddy! Stop!” you squirm,.