As he closed the door, I fumbled in my inside jacket pocket for a smoke. I stuck it in my trembling lips, fumbled with the lighter and finally lit it....My knees were shaking so bad, I thought I’d drop like a ton of bricks if I tried to walk back to the truck. I leaned against the railing of the portico and took a long drag from my smoke. And another. And another. Wiping my eyes, smoking and missing my Dad.When I got back in the truck, it was 4:00. I had plenty of time to get back downtown to the. I let her fully recover as we drank a Schmitz Beer and recuperated. I even told her the corny old joke about why the Schmitz girls switched brands to Hamms beer. “They kept getting sand in their Schmitz” the punch line which got me a punch in the side for my poor joke. Then I concentrated on the best pussy eating I,d ever performed on Angel and was duly rewarded by her loud automatic groans generated as her liquids pissed out this time, some hitting my face and hair and rolling down my cheeks. More

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