I bet you can taste your own cum now. I just had a lick and it tastes so good.” Emmy says with a glint in her eye. I smile, as best I could with a m...outh full of cum and piss soaked lace, to let her know I am in on her game and want to continue. I close my eyes, relax and let my tongue press up against the lace, feeling around for textures and tastes. I can smell them just as much as I can taste them and it is nothing quite like anything I have ever come across. It just smells and tastes of sex. The ground seemed to have gotten much less comfortable to sleep on than it used to be; the thought of isolation with no kids around seemed spooky, somehow; a tent would be cramped and smelly and not very private; cooking over a tiny gasoline stove on a chilly morning no longer sounded like fun. Yes, we were getting old.It was Marsha who came up with the winning suggestion. "Ron, have you ever been to Yosemite?" No, but I've wanted to go there. Have you ever seen it?" No, I haven't either. Why. " Angela glared at me and growled "you cannot make me strip for you jock boy, you and no army." I told Angela "put your pajama's on and sleep, this shit is all over and finished, this is a new game."Angela spit at me and I caught the spit and rubbed it in her face, she struggled and tried to bite me but I am a fast and strong for a 16 year old man. "Fuck you" she screamed at me and I pulled Angela to her bed and held her down. "Tough guy beating up a girl" she spit into my face. I was holding. As the days turned into weeks they were happy but I was not, Craig continued to hardly speak to me while Libby seemed to barely acknowledge my existance let alone talk to me, just treated my wife and I as their servants.I talked to my wife about them saying what I thought about them and that they should move out, as I said my wife loves her son too much and was resisting this, even after she admitted that she did not like Libby.One night we were both tired and went to bed early. I awoke a few.