"Hello?" She said. His soft voice whispered in her ear. " Hi Monnie, it's me." he said. "I was waiting to hear from you, how are you?" "Hello," she st...ttered. The warmth in her belly started to spread downward, she wanted to squeeze her legs together, trying to contain the feeling that threatened to burst from within her. He talked quietly to her, just making small talk, but Monnie was concerned about her pussy getting wetter by the second. She put her hand between her legs, feeling the wetness. Sitting at the dinning tabke in the kitchen was my father, Aiden. He was a tall, fit man with burning red hair. Also one of the biggest drinkers I know. I've watched him down five full bottles of Jack Daniel's and come away a little tipsy. Then again, he is a pure Irish native. So it really shouldn't be that surprising. Though, I am glad that his accent has receded as much as it has. It still comes out now and again, but now it's just a few words the trip his accent. The funniest son of a bitch. More

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