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It was because I was working a full eight to ten hour shift and sweating my ass off in the silly Parks Department heavy overalls. Those uniforms were so bad that they reminded me of a Jimmy Cagney movie where he and his pals broke out of Sing Sing Prison using guns made out of soap.It seemed like the females hated those things more than us guys because they had a lot more artistic inclinations than boys and liked to mix and match colors. I remember my little Puerto Rican honey liked to wear the most outrageous panties under the uniform that almost made me cum when she dropped her trousers under the boardwalk. I remember being so aroused by a memorable pair of panties that I spent a lot of time just kissing and licking her bottom before yanking them down to her ankles.Even though I was pretty tired after a long day at the beach, I always looked forward to a ride back on the subway all the way up to the Bronx because we would pass right through the downtown area right around rush. "Oh My Fucking God, I'm cumming again!" She came like a wild woman, long and hard. It was all that I could do to keep her on the chair. At that point I couldn't tell if Jim was still in the shower, or if Marla was still using the hair dryer. I slowed down a little, pumping her pussy slower and leaned over as far as I could and looked down the hallway to the left, and then looked down the other hallway to the right. I didn't see Jim or Marla. If they came out we would be dead, caught red handed. Then I thought, fuck it, I was close and needed to blow my load all up in Carol's wet, tight pussy. I started pumping her pussy faster again. Carol could tell I was close and she started urging me on with her dirty little mouth. "Oh Hell Yeah," she said. "Get that pussy! Get that shit!" "Oh Hell Yeah," I replied, still pounding with all I had. "I'm almost there!" "Cum in me," she demanded. "Cum in me now!" She grabbed my ass with both hands and squeezed with all she had. I could feel her.
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And you’ve obviously been telling her that he is.”“What do you want me to do?” Carla asked. “She asks who her daddy is and there is only one possibility.”“We can go ‘round and ‘round on this,” I said. “And we’re not going to get anywhere. We trust the science. Carla trusts what she is certain happened. It’s an impasse which we can’t solve.”“Why can’t you just accept it for what it is?” Carla asked, almost in tears.I put my head in my hands and shook it. This was an impossible situation, made even MORE impossible by Carla telling Rachel I was her father. There was literally nothing I, or anyone else, was going to be able to say that would change Carla’s mind. And there was nothing she could do or say at this point which would change my mind, or my wives’ minds. We were ALL missing something. I wondered if there was a way to discover what it was.“Carla,” I said. “Let’s think back to March of 1984. You invited me to dinner, and after many, many months of back and forth, finally asked me.

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