"Not me," he finished off the coffee and set the cup and saucer in the sink. "I'm going to paint my new apartment."He smiled at her, and once again Be...ty experienced the strange feeling of being ill at ease in familiar territory, this time her own kitchen. She couldn't for the life of her remember what she had intended to do when she rushed into the room. She looked at her handsome brother-in-law: yes, he was dressed in old jeans and a sweatshirt suitable for painting. She knew she looked. "Fuck me, that feels amazing, Mom, now I'm crying because I think I love you just a little more than a mom now. Would you mind if your best friend joins you now? To double the pleasure, so to speak?" No, Rose, you are having an unbelievable intimate moment with your mom now. I assuredly wouldn't want to impose on you two more than I already have. I'm watching her letting your nipple out now. She is licking it repeatedly and making you twitch a bit too. This is beyond wonderful, I feel like you. He got a drink and then directed us to his studio, which was a small affair at his place. Then as Betty looked around, he grabbed his camera and started taking pictures of her. It was a professional looking digital camera and the flash as automatic. Betty started posing in some exaggerated poses, but Johnny told her to act natural and the camera will capture it. As he put it; “Put on poses, never show the real person!”Betty then started to act and pose naturally and she was starting to listen. .I want to hear it from HER". Now I'm at the point where truth-telling goes hand in hand with the blood-alcohol content level. But I cut off my alcohol supply, because I know when to say when. "No Tiffany, I don't hate you" and I promptly dismissed myself and crashed back on the couch. At this point the party is dying down and I can hear subtle noises in the background as people begin to head for the exits. When the last person leaves, and its assumed I'm a goner...I hear...snark comments like.