A head taller than Brian at the least, and perhaps another three hundred pounds heavier, his massive bulk intimidating even while sitting in the recliner. The actual resemblance to her friend Brian started at hair color… and stopped there as well, with no other similar features she could discern. He wore a mustache and large, aviator-style eyeglasses, which she haplessly categorized as rapist glasses, from which he regarded her with narrowed, beady eyes. Emily disliked him immediately. In her head she’d simply been visualizing something like an older, gruffer version of Brian—maybe looking like Brian but also having a beard or something, but reality fell far from her expectations. “Hello,” she attempted weakly, trying not to stare at the bulging, stubbled fat making up his chins, to show revulsion, to show this thing anything at all. “Nice to meet… you?” Emily tried, but she saw he’d already turned his attention back to the television. “She looks a little young,” Brian’s dad admonished, glancing in disapproval at Brian as though Emily wasn’t present. “Go watch TV in the other room, and stay where I can see you.” “Thank you,” Brian replied, nodding, and gestured for Emily to follow him. Thank you? What part of… any of that fucking warranted a thank you? Emily wondered, disoriented but relieved to at least be shuffling away from that thing in the recliner. This… isn’t right. This isn’t Brian. He’s acting the same weird… mechanical way he was back when he was over at my place. She followed Brian into what looked like another whole living room, adjacent to the one where his father was reclining, appointed with similar decor. Living room number two? Family room? Or, maybe this is the den? Like the previous room, it was large and well-furnished, but in the same sterile, superficial sort of way that gave off the vibe of a realtor’s real estate showroom, rather than a anal real room. Brian turned on the TV set and immediately muted it with the remote, the MUTE dialogue appearing on-screen before the channel first even swam into view. “And keep the volume down,” his dad called in from the adjacent room. Is this a fucking staged joke? indian Emily thought to herself with a strained smile, but Brian seemed to be pretending everything was normal. Closed captioning text was already appearing on the screen from the get-go, as if it was always set that way. …Is his dad watching the other TV, or is he watching me? With the reflected glow of the other screen shining off of those glasses, it was impossible for her to tell. She stifled her urge to shiver, and gave Brian a look. Brian mustered a nervous smile for her. A long half-hour later, Brian’s dad heaved the bulk of his body out of his recliner to receive a phone call, shooting the teens a stern look before he shuffled over to the home office. She liked Marlene and intended on inviting both but her brother alone was okay too, “Look, I’m at Burger Barn, can you come here? It could have been a compliment, but with that crooked smile, it felt like something else. He was aching to slip his fingers under the fabric and touch her bare skin but resisted until she indicated it was ok. Whatever she had planned once his pants her unbuttoned, he didn’t want to interrupt. Jan, I have a really good feeling about this. Sombra let out a low moan and let her head fall back against the headboard as she felt the hooded tip of her cock become enclosed in Lena’s lips. Her eyes grew wider. “I’ll clip his ear when I find him,” she added. They loved to entertain and often held parties and get-togethers for their friends and family. “Of me?” While she was doing that, I made indian us a bucket of salty, buttery popcorn. Look at Sandy, over there shaking her ass for those guys, and my dad anal just standing there, watching her do it.