..” I sobbed.“Perhaps not. Your mom was doing good for a while...”Mizz Watkins did MORE than her job. Came and picked me up one day. “This guy...��s real, Mandy. I think he sounds like, much better than we dared to dream.”“And we’re gonna dump a kid in ‘is lap and he’s okay with that?” I asked.“Let’s go with ‘yes’.”“You found a saint?”“I found a real man.”And I met Bill Carmody, big ol’ guy. Actually, that ‘old’ part? He’s old enough to be grandpa instead of dad. But I’m not in a position to be. You resume your travels down my body, my ass high in the air. My knees are spread apart, and your hands run down my slippery slit. Your fingers begin running circles around my clit, and a fire ignites in the core of my belly. A moan slips from my lips, and I can feel the wetness trickle down my thighs. I close my eyes, trying to concentrate on the sensations you are giving me. I feel your tongue join in on the assault of my clit, and my fire is building at an unbelievable pace. First one, then. The scariest thing about Felicity was the fact that after the summer vacations, by the time that she returned to school, my bank (her grandfather had turned out to be one of the major shareholders) balance showed his appreciation for my efforts, it was totally uncalled for, and I kept thinking that here I am at thirty, and she is only thirteen, a newly minted teenager; that there is something not quite right here, my swiftly crumbling morals (I know: if she is old enough to bleed... ) But he. He said we lets see who can score first. So Skippy started flirting and I ask for the manager to come to the table and he couldn't stop looking down my top. The waitress kept moving as the manager kept staring. After dinner and drinks we moved to the bar to see either of us could make this happen. I no longer sat down, the manager was over with us, arm around my back asking if he could get me anything. I ordered three shots an we all slammed them followed by many more. I was drunk and Skippy.