Hey, how ya doin'? Name's Hugh Johnson. No, really! "Hugh", not Hubert, is actually on my birth certificate. Hugh is a long-standing family name due to a great-grandfather being a war hero or something, and I'm lucky enough to have been saddled with the Johnson surname as well. Even worse, my Dad's name is also Hugh. That's right: I'm Hugh Johnson, Jr. It's actually not that bad. Some girls want to find out if I "live up to the name" (well, except for the "Junior" part), and they don't go away disappointed. My Dad has a way with the ladies too. That's what broke my parents up when I was 13. I lived with my Mom but kept in touch with my Dad by phone and e-mail as I got older. When I turned 18 I left home to travel the country, following my thumb. That was a few years ago. My Dad said I could stay at his place whenever I was in the area, and I take him up on it once or twice a year. Oh, another thing about my Dad and me: he's in his mid-forties and has aged quite well. We look a lot alike. In fact, aside from some light wrinkles and "salt & pepper" in his hair, we could be brothers. We've even been mistaken for each other when it's dim. Anyway, enough background. I had just shown up on my Dad's doorstep, ready for a shower, hot meal and soft bed when I remembered that he was on vacation in New York for another few days. Luckily, I recalled where he kept his spare key in a small niche near the front door. I replaced the key before locking the door behind me...aah, blessed comfort!
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Mistaken Indemnity
RomanceI raised the hem of her nightie and found that she had panties of the same fabric underneath. While continuing our passionate kisses my fingers found their way to them, brushing her sex through the fabric. She gasped. I increased the pressure, round...