Want to check for yourself?"She reddened. There wasn't a touch of humor in her expression."All right. Come on," she said.I followed that delightful as...s in those bikini bottoms to her apartment in the back of the complex. She unlocked the door, strode toward the bedroom, and called back, "Lock the door behind you."The living room had a couch, recliner, and big screen TV. The bedroom was equally sparse. There was a queen-sized bed with no head or foot boards, one battered wooden end table with an. The sound of swishing nylon and the sound of the silkyrayon material of the dress zipping over the petticoats filled the roomas they rustled. "You're, you're wearing it all!" he gasped inamazement."I...I'm sorry. Look, I...I'll just get packed, I'll get out tonight, itwon't be a problem!" I gasped as I clicked backwards towards the basementdoor but it was too late now. "You're not going anywhere. I still have that data card Lane, plenty ofpictures showing you all nice and pretty and all. Be. No veins and no hair. I was so busy observing this beauty that I didnt even notice him stir. Dude… he mumbled upon seeing me. I froze, fear now fully gripping me. How would he react? How would I explain this? I just looked back at him, too scared to speak. To my surprise, he didnt freak out, though he was certainly surprised, evidenced by the look on his face. W-what were you doing? he continued. I gulped back my fear in an attempt to respond, I..um..well, you see. I was curious. And you…I…I. Lassiter embarrassed that his son’s wife sucks cock for money?" Her words cut me deeply and I recoiled, unsure sure how to answer. "A little," I admitted, raising indignation to cover my discomfort. "No, a lot. Frankly, I'm shocked that-" "Oh, but its okay for you to pay a whore to suck your stuffy old righteous cock, isn't it?" she threw back at me. I was abashed and unable to respond, and she didn't wait. "Well fuck you, Mister Lassiter. I'm good at it, and I enjoy my work, and if you don't.