But I was scared to let him in. What the fuck did he want? Why was he insisting on coming in? Quickly, I texted a co-worker and asked them to call the...cops on my behalf if I didn't text back within an hour. Maybe I'd get robbed or worse, but at least backup would arrive. Putting on my most confident face, I went ahead and opened the damn door. The guy looked at me, scanning me up and down. He didn't seem surprised, shocked, or disgusted. Quite the opposite. "Would you invite me in, please?" he. You don’t even have to tell me if you don’t want to.”That resulted in renewed sobs, and when she’d finally settled a little, she kept her head facing my chest.“I can’t go to Las Vegas for our twenty-first birthday. It ... isn’t my twenty-first. It’s only my nineteenth,” she gasped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to know I wasn’t as old as you.”“What? Why would that make a difference? We’re not going to be upset about ... But you’re a junior in college. How old were you when you came to. Darien was getting tired of this exchange. "I don't think this is the same thing Ashley. Ben isn't married." He's my son. And basically your nephew. What were you thinking? He could be your son for Christ's sake!" Ashley lectured her former friend."Only if I got knocked up when I was sixteen!" Mrs. Darien countered."Fuck You Stephanie!!" Fuck You!!" Mrs. Darien shouted back.Ben couldn't believe this conversation was taking place in front of him. He couldn't believe his mom and Mrs. Darien were. Maybe just a teeny tiny thong, showing her pubes around the sides and leaving no doubt about the state of her pussy. Sometimes a little playful hide-and-seek was better than showing everything out in the open, she decided, putting on a white, sheer thong that matched the style of the stockings.When she was done, she ran her fingers once more across her crotch, as if to congratulate herself for her outfit. The hair tickled on her fingertips and gave her a nice and comforting feeling. Yes, she.