1. Glamour Shots, Chapter 17


    Date: 8/9/2018, Categories: Wife / MILF, Author: Stormdog, Source: LushStories

    and quickly away, but I thought I detected something – anger, maybe, or resentment. “That’s my kid, too; Peter, or Petey. They’re fine; you don’t need to worry about them.” Alli was looking at him oddly. I said, “What is Petey, about three, maybe four? I don’t think I’d let a kid that size run around unsupervised with all these dogs – I mean, yeah, they’re supposed to be well-behaved and well-socialized dogs to be allowed to come here, but you never know, right?” His son and their dog were easily thirty yards away; if anything unfortunate did occur, daddy would be of little help. His tone beginning to become belligerent, he said, “He’s fine. He knows about dogs, and I’m watching him.” While the first part of that may have been true, it would be of no help if a large dog suddenly decided to become aggressive toward a forty pound kid; the second part was patently false, as he’d had eyes only for Alli since I’d first noticed him. She knew it too, and her skepticism began to show as she looked at him, her head slightly tilted and a quizzical expression on her face. “You never mentioned that you had your son here with you – or that you even had one.” Caught, he seemed to squirm uncomfortably. “Didn’t I? I thought I did. I’m sure I did.” Alli shook her head. “No, you didn’t.” She was slowly scratching Ruby’s ears, while Ruby rested her head quite happily on Allison’s knee. He rose to his feet, again wiping his hands on his pants legs in that unconscious, nervous gesture that I'd ...
    decided was probably characteristic of his species, that being the sweaty-palmed liar. When he stood I could see that my distant impressions had been mostly correct; he was fairly tall – about my height – but very slender, his shoulders narrow and his torso appearing almost emaciated beneath his fleece jacket and dark green turtleneck, which hung on him. He stood slightly stoop-shouldered, which somehow seemed to emphasize his height and thinness rather than disguise it. The other thing that I noticed was that his jeans were old, and worn thin as tissue paper, and were so snug on him that his genitalia stood out in bas-relief against his body, his scrotum a large, rounded bulge at the juncture of his thighs and the long, thick ridge of his penis pressed into his left thigh, even the rounded head of it pronounced and plainly visible. The picture suddenly became clear in my mind, a picture of a guy that comes to the dog park only to use his cute little dog as a come-on to approach women, who wears his pants uncomfortably tight to show off his ample endowment, somehow convincing himself that most women wouldn’t be repulsed by that, and who probably used his son the same way he does the dog until the kid was no longer a cute, cuddly baby, but who now tried very hard not to acknowledge the fact that he had a child. “So, are you married, Greg?” His eyes skated past my face. “Divorced.” I nodded. “Ah. Well, too bad. Your weekend with your kid?” “Something like that.” Alli was just ...
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