He asked me what the hell I was doing again and I couldn't think of an answer at all. He then asked me if I had seen him on the bed and I nodded yes. ... told him I was looking for something I lost when I heard him come in the room but he didn't believe me and he slapped me on top of my head. I got tears in my eyes but then noticed that he had pulled his jeans up but hadn't zipped them up and his cock was sticking out of them. He saw me look at it and he grabbed my arm and asked me if I was some. It's time we play a little catch up." He said sardonically. "Dave, how the fuck did you know where to find me?" I said while standing there, sweating in my tank top and running shorts. Ridiculously enough, I felt self conscious and off balance. I knew I looked like shit; hair pulled back in a pony tail, not a stitch of makeup on, red faced, chest heaving. Not my best look to be sure. "This is a very small town. Everyone knows what everyone does." He was right in front of me as he said this. I. Then kissing me good morning too. It was as if last night was some really fucked up dream I had. My poor sister was completely unaware that her fucked up husband was eating their daughter’s pussy. Who knows how long that sick bastard was going downstairs and licking up some fresh soft pussy lips. I could barely look at anyone. “What’s up brother?” my sister finally asked. I straightened up and shook my head. “Just a lot on my mind”. My sister hands me a cup of coffee and says “Well don’t you. Mom, I don't believe they will findout how she makes the oil." I giggled a bit at a thought. "I tried totell her to tell her body to stop making it for a while. I thought thatif she did that, that she could get them to let her go sooner. She saidshe would try." It's a feeling I have. I noticed several times that when she talks aboutthe oil being a pain that it starts to dry up and goes away. But usually,it is not for very long and once she forgets about it, it starts to comeback slowly. I think.
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