The wrapped piece of chicken was then replaced on the conveyor belt where it trundled along to where some other women were weighing them and sticking ...ticky-back labels on them. And that was it. Chicken breast after chicken leg after chicken wing.Tracey soon got into the rhythm of it. Boring, monotonous jobs like this was all the work she'd ever had, and soon the rhythm and routine overcame any sense of meaning and purpose. Buttercup however was far less adept than her, and had great difficulty. He's happy with that because it will probably make things easier."Short for Joanna?" asks Mark."You got it." Very pretty name for a very pretty woman," he grins, pouring the drinks."Why thank you!" pouts Jo in a sexy, little girl voice."But I bet guys tell you that all the time, yeah?" he smiles at her."Now and again." Only now and again? Now why don't I believe that?"Jo giggles and does her leg crossing thing, enjoys the way his eyes linger on her exposed thighs."And what about my friend? .... ." I spoke slowly out of nervousness. Embarrassed and slightly ashamed I turned my head away to look towards the end of the hallway.Looking away I cleared my throat a little, the butterflies of nervousness hitting me, although I can feel excitement forming in my stomach from realizing the taboo of the sexual moment: my own daughter commenting about my dick. I never knew such a moment would happen with a dedicated family man like me, thinking my sexual thoughts were just fantasy playing out in. Darren just gave me the male: Well I have a cock, look: you know their excuse: it’s a guy’s cock not his feelings in a relationship that causes all men’s problems with spare women and penis opportunism. Blame my cock sweetie. But you love my cock too. I knew it: guys and their own penis obsession.Problem was I had my own cock addiction and my mum was giving my favorite piece of Darren back to me. Off course I took it.I had my lover boy’s dick in my mouth. I was slurping along his already over.