Friends were few and not lasting with everyone fleeing Detroit because of the bad economy and the crime getting worse. Being that she was a plain woma... that no one would look at twice and/or call pretty but for Jerry, as if she was made up by a Hollywood makeup artist, he sometimes drew her face prettier than she looked in the mirror. Most times, he drew her face raw and exposed as if his paint brush was a Paparazzi camera that had captured her in a bad and unguarded moment. Her angry or mad. Luckily for you there was no highway on the way so I didn’t have to put it to the maximum speed. At the restaurant we order a light lunch, with a glass of wine. I tease you all the time by turning the egg on whenever the waitress asks you something. Just on the first vibration mode since I don’t want us to get caught. Together we enjoy the lunch and the wine. “Go to the bathroom, but leave the door open,” I tell you at the end of the lunch. The moment you get up I turn on the egg. Slowly you. No, I mean you look gorgeous"I looked at dad and we were both dying of embarrassment. I flapped my arms in the air in a resigned gesture of being caught and said well I might as well give you a twirl.I slowly spun round wiggling my ass like I had practiced many times in front of the mirror.Dad nodded slowly and then I couldn't believe what I saw the towel round my dads waist was slowly being pushed out by something growing and growing very big.I simply stared at this growing tent in his towel. Most probably the reason why he had to spread his legs was because of the huge package between them. Francesco continued to stare, unable to look away. There was an unmistakable bulge there, easy to spot even from a little distance. His mouth watered, and he licked his lips.The giant met his eyes, making him turn his head. “That guy, huh?” Karl looked, too. “Go talk to him. Ask him if he’s game.”“Why do I have to go?”“Italians know how to talk to people.”“It’s a basic human skill,” Francesco.