She’s still dirt poor and just scraping by. You know we don’t pay all that well, although we do provide good benefits to make up for it. She’s a...good dancer and knows how to work the crowd for lap dances and tips. I’m sure this profession is not in her long-term plan but she doesn’t know that.”“Why don’t you invite her over for dinner sometime so we can meet her and do a little interviewing?” Owen asked.“You both here on midday Saturday?” Jim asked.Dave and Owen nodded.Saturday afternoon just. Like a bucket of ice cold water.Smack! my arm lashed out automatically, and my fist smacked into something solid with a satisfying cracking sound."Fucking hell!" It was a bloke's voice, an old bloke,"What's that for!" For that!" I shouted, "What the fuck are you doing!" You hit me!" he wailed."You fucking groped me!" I pointed out, "What the fuck do you think I am? fucking queer or something?" Well you're a Lib Dem aren't you?" he asked."No I'm fucking BNP," I insisted, "Al's a Lib Dem not me.". There was something intensely exciting about pissing and watching it splash into her son's face, or having him piss into her face. It was something she had fantasized for many years about, and now her son was making those fantasies come true.The stream of piss weakened, and then dribbled. Donna ran her palm into her cunt and then licked her hand. Squatting in the tub, she splashed water over her pussy, then pulled the plug.As she stepped out and reached for a towel, she heard the front door. Her lashes fluttered open over eyes that matched the sheets, and she purred low in her throat. The High Lord had graced her bed last night, and as always had left her satisfied. Her muscles ached pleasantly, and she smiled to herself. Across the hall, Analyndia whimpered in her sleep and rolled over on her stomach. Her short gold hair blended with her gold skin, glowing against the jet black sheets. Her boyish figure sprawled across the bed, twisting a few times before settling into sleep.