Alone in front of the bar stood Mr. Z, arms folded across his chest, his face expressionless, as though he'd never met me before. Never mind he'd neve... been a cuddly guy or an outwardly warm father in his interactions with his daughters, but he'd at least acknowledged my existence before now. He'd even attended a couple of my games, and my parents and I had watched some of the girls' soccer matches."Hello, Mr. Z." I knew better than to offer my hand.No answer.I tried a little bit of a smile, an. “Good girl” praised Dave, “Let’s continue.”He then released her nipple and fingered between her legs.“And this?” He asked. “This wet, syrupy area down here?”“My… pussy?” my wife hesitantly replied. I’m sure that she was hoping that Dave was not looking for the “c” word. “Very good” He replied. He then reached around my wife’s hips and spread her ass-cheeks, providing me with a very clear view of her little virgin hole.“My ass?” my wife replied, appearing very embarrassed.Dave slapped her ass. More

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