It’s like a hidden Easter egg in the Google code. In this case, in Westport, at the Char Bar, it’s an under-marketed dish, mostly off the local fo...dies’ radar.Available Sundays only, this joint — built on, and celebrated for BBQ — has the best fried chicken in town. Now Stroud’s, that venerable warhorse, still has its fans. But it’s drifted into blandness. Still good, but never the same since the owner closed that old roadhouse on 85th Street. Stroud’s has gone suburban. Even has a location in. Hell, she was going to show our genealogy tree and point to when we owned a plantation and she was pretty sure that woman-kin of ours probably kept her slaves satisfied too. All Momma asked was to keep some ground rules, no trying to steal men= sharing was better if nessecary. If I wanted to get my slut on I had to let her know where I was to be safe. And of course she was going to teach me how to improve my slut skills. I was thrilled to realize I was no longer alone in my dirty thoughts. We. "What's he been like at home?" Bonnie asked."Fine, as far as I can tell. I have a suspicion that he's lonely. Andy is away, I'm gone part of the time, and Scott is just getting going at Selkirk and is busy in his room most nights. I think he truly misses you and his friend, Nick," Brent offered. "There's no one here for him to connect with." What should I do?" Bonnie asked."Don't you mean we?" he asked."Sorry ... of course ... but ... what should we do?" she tried again."First, I'm going to. His mouth was all over her, licking, sucking and kissing and she was drowning in his attention to the little details of her body. It was as if he fed off her pleasure.She felt the surprise and the pleasure in him when she wrapped her arms around his neck, avoiding the spikes on his back, her hands tangling in his hair to pull him closer. It only made his attack on her breasts even more voracious. “Oh…yes,” she moaned as sharp teeth nibbled at her cherry red nipples. “I could get use to this,”.