All I was now was whatever my stepdaughter wanted me to be."She's getting better, but she still makes mistakes," she continued. "Just last weekend, f...r example, she fell asleep while I had her servicing a few of my friends. I had to punish her for embarrassing me."A few friends, hell, I thought to myself, not missing a beat with my tongue. Twenty-six couples, and before I even got to the first woman, I had to take each of the men up my ass or suck them off. Some wanted both; ass first, of. I left the car to buy popcorn, which I ate at the refreshments booth, staring at and smiling at the terrible film. My phone buzzed. I’d turned off the ringer. It was Andrew. “Andy?”“Sorry, Mom. I made a mess of things-”“I’ll be right there.” I hurried back to the car. Melinda was gone.“She called for a Lyft, Mom.”“What did you do?” The girl was too boring to have caused any trouble.Andrew worried me by popping a grin. “Oh, a bit too much it seems.” He waggled his eyebrows. The edge of a shadow. The problem was, where Laila lived, none of the other boys took notice to her. Maybe because she was sweet and innocent and a bit shy and her intelligence intimidated them, much to her dismay. She wasn't blonde, she didn't have lightly tan skin, she didn't have blue eyes. Laila was Indian, her skin dark like cocoa, pinkish lips, her large eyes chesnut brown with thick lashes, long curly flowing black locks and a curvy frame, with large breasts and a shapely body. Laila often went to London, to. My ex was a good for nothing loser but I had really enjoyed the sex when he could get it up and was not too drunk. I now had to rely on my vibrator for my orgasms but I missed a hard cock pounding into me. Enough of that. I didn't want to get worked up as it was not gonna change anytime soon as men did not have much interest in me.I told my mother, "Men do not want the responsibility of a son that is not their own. It is simple I will not be getting married any time soon."My mother shook her.
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