Oh yeah, I can see you’ve got a talent for this. Ahhhhh, shit yeah.”Jennifer moved her head and, from my vantage point in the loft above and sligh...ly to the left behind Jennifer, I could now see her fingers moving inside Dad’s pants.“You want to see it, don’t you?”Dad didn’t wait for an answer.“Take it out. Go ahead, you can look at it if you want.”Jennifer shook her head.“Take it out!”Jennifer fumbled in Dad’s pants for a few seconds but finally managed to pull his cock out.“There you go. Bet. You should try it some time, I think she likes it.” She was trying to be two things at once: the victim and the gracious senior who can’t be hurt. Trouble was, I didn’t know which one was genuine.Everything went quiet again on the Hubert front. It was summer term – my last term at school before university. I was studying a bit, moping around a lot and listening to music like it was about to be banned completely.One Saturday night I went to a gig. Three local bands at the oh-so-cool. "Pull out into traffic when it's safe to do so," the examiner says inhis stoic, formal voice, and I dutifully obey, making sure the examinerknows I'm constantly checking my mirrors and taking deliberate care andattention with every single action I take. For the next 30 minutes, Icarefully drive around the streets of the West London suburb where Ilive, gradually getting more and more terrified to the extent that I'mbarely able to use the clutch properly, my left leg is trembling somuch."Okay,. We then went into the living room and Ibegan her training in how to properly curtsey, enter a room, leave aroom and how to serve a guest. She was learning and progressing when thedoorbell rang. I knew that it would be her job to answer that door but Ialso knew that she wasn't quite ready for that yet so I answered it.It was one of my bulls, Craig, the guy I called as babette was gettingdressed. As we walked into the living room I could see the look of panicon babette's face. "Don't worry.