Ivy's husband Scott was drinking real hard and was challenging the other guys to darts. Every time a shot scored below 10, whomever threw it had to dr...nk. The ladies were gathered in the kitchen and of course the topic turned to sex and their husbands. Needless to say the group of ladies weren't feeling fulfilled lately. One of Ivy's friend Jenny started to say that she could remember an old boyfriend she had right when Justin walked in to get another beer from the fridge. Jenny quickly clammed. She reached her other hand up and played lightly with his balls. He seemed to get a slight look then. It resembled concentration. She prayed that was a good sign, and kept stroking him for quite a while before he rested his hand on her head. "That's enough." He said, just a hint of something she couldn't quite place in his voice. Was it lust? Or more concentration? Perhaps he was upset.She was really going to drive herself insane trying to read this man. She hesitated again, gazing up at him. ’ I looked at her blankly. I knew I’d put my license… I shook my head, frustrated. I was sure I had one — well, pretty sure — I knew how to drive, even if I hadn’t done it recently. Now that I thought about it, my credit cards were in the same black hole. ‘I don’t know where anything is, they must have gotten lost in the move.’ Cammy looked at me a little strangely. ‘You don’t have anything?’ She giggled then, and added, ‘I guess we’ll just have to go somewhere that won’t try to card you.’ I. He was somewhat racist, and hated the fact that my mom was selling herself to black men, got pregnant, and she didnt know who the father was. My moms family, my dad, her friends, everyone saw her for what I suppose she truly was, a whore. Growing up a baby from a whore mom is not much different than a regular mom, though Ive never had another mom to compare her to. Deep inside, we are all whores I suppose, so its all the same. I never really lacked anything or had some form of hardship. She.
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