It was early evening so I knew she wouldn’t be back for several hours. I didn’t bother wondering where she was going or who she was fucking, I was... just glad to have her out of the house for a while, I could get some peace, some quiet. It was the best time to get some work done as a sports analyst for ESPN.It was a real fucking job and I loved it.I was walking past Beth’s room when I hear her crying, sobbing behind the closed door. I didn’t’ even know she was home. I opened the door to find my. “Only if you stop looking at my willy” I said.“I wasn’t looking at your willy” She reached out her arm.I looked over her shoulder at the hut, the girls were still inside. Clare’s hand gripped hold of my erection and squeezed it tight. Not moving. I gasped.“I’ll look at your fucking willy if I feel like it, you pervy fucking flasher.” she said.She held me still and tight, feeling my pulse. A blob of clear sticky liquid ran down onto her wrist. She glanced around the beach, nobody was looking. My. I mean,I was wearing black pants and a white jacket. I had taken the pinkscrunchie out of my hair and I hadn't reapplied much makeup. Just someglittery moisturizer for the lips and a bit of powder. But I guess mypink sneaks and pink tank were not butch enough. When out in public Itry not to be overly femme as when I'm in the gym. I try to be moreunderstanding of others because I wish the same from them to me. But Idon't always pull that off. I guess that's one of the complications withbeing a. And this is his son Timmy. Timmy just started at the company fresh out of high school," Brad said as he gestured towards Timmy. Timmy looked young and not anything like Eric. I would have never guessed they were related. Timmy was taller than his dad and muscular. I wondered why he wasn't playing basketball in college somewhere. Timmy had a shaggy mop of red hair on his head that hung into his eyes.The four of us went to a restaurant a few blocks away. I learned that Eric was married and had.