“Do you want me to help you with your shirt now?” I asked her with a sly smile. “Sure. Let’s go up to my room first.” She stood...up and held out her hand to me. I grasped her hand and followed her up the stairs, staring at her tight little ass swaying in front of my face. When we got to her room, she turned on a bedside lamp which provided a dim, seductive light. She turned to face me and lifted her mane of hair off of her neck with both hands so that I had to come closer to. Wearily I take a seat opposite them. My unease continues as they’re siting holding hands. What the hell’s going on? Divorce springs to mind.Dad takes a deep breath, “We,” looking at Mom, “would like you to help our friend out with her problem?” Mom visibly squeezes Dad’s hand and takes over. “You know my friend Julie?” I nod.She is Mom’s only friend. She’s a serious business woman, a little plump, with a plain face and librarian glasses. At 40ish I could, at a pinch call her a MILF. Julie’s. More

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