."He looks up at me, squinting slightly. "What? Am I blocking the aisle?" No, no. Come on. Get up. This is important. Do I look like a serial killer?" I smile. I can be rather pretty when I smile.Leaning over, I take his warm hand. He slowly stands up and I drag him down the aisle and around the end of the stack. There's a small alcove behind it formed by a buttress extending from the outer wall up against the shelving from behind."Wha... what? Okay, what is going on?" he demands to know. It gets cool, and stays cool, in the computer room where I work. It has to for the computers there to function well. So we wear warm clothes. I have on some wool slacks and a linen sweater. I pull down the pants and lean up against the buttress. I look over my shoulder and wiggle my ass a little. This guy cannot be this slow, I think to myself."Oh, shit, lady. What the hell?" He's freaking now. I may lose him, and I don't want to. I need this right now. I need it badly."Jeez, man. Whatta you think it. "I dare you to help me put your mom to bed", I said, standing up slowly, stretching, giving this snowbird an unhindered, close-up view of my full-on fire hydrant."What?" was all she managed for a reply, hints of sadness, regret, and perhaps even a twinge of relief seeped through her quietly screeched word. Up to this point she'd held herself together, but as I stood to the side of the tub, her gaze again locked on my dick as I put my shorts back on. In that one word I'd also heard the effects of grain spirits that we had been enjoying.This was fun, Shelley had been wasted for a while, and I was at the point where I knew I couldn't drive, but could still function, still wanted to fuck, wasn't slurring my words, etc. This girl, though, only know was showing the effects of alcohol. With that one word."What?" She's done" I noted to DanyAnne, pointing at her mother to her left, adrift, mumbling, close cropped but WIDE beaver in full display, floating proudly above her fat pussy. I called.
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