. since she loved being around Phillip. "Honey . . . Anna and I are going to get the games ready downstairs. I'll let you know when I need everyone to come down, ok?" he said. "Not a problem . . . don't do anything I wouldn't!" she said as she winked at him and watched her husband place his arm around Anna's shoulders. As they went through the doorway leading to the basement, Mike carefully closed the door behind them. Unbeknownst to him, young Anna's pussy . . . began to drip with excitement as her feet navigated the steps. "So what do you think of the punch Anna?" he said as they entered the room that was all decorated with black and orange crepe paper and matching balloons. "Ah . . . to be honest . . . its making me like all hot inside . . . if you want to know the truth. Did you like spike it with some booze?" she asked looking up towards the man. "I don't think your parents would like that. It just has some special spices to perk it up . . . a recipe I found online." "Doesn't. Printed speed signs were ignored. Tina, aware of her own unfulfilled need, studied her mother and prayed she would never feel that desperate. She hung on to her seat belt shoulder strap as the car swerved past slower vehicles. It took about a half hour to drive across town. It was about nine-thirty when they pulled up at a conservative looking dance bar. 'Smokey Joe's Cocktail Club' she read from the flickering neon sign. Her mother pulled to a stop with a jerk and cut the engine. She gave Tina one brief glance of unspoken thanks then proceeded out of the car to the bar. Tina steeled her nerves and waited until her mother had entered the lounge before she started for it.As she opened the door the musk of stale cigarettes permeated her nose, choking her somewhat. The lights were dim inside and the dull strains of Muzak existed for an excuse for the few couples to dance close together. She looked for her mother as she stepped inside and tried to halt a spasm of coughing. Cynthia Brady.
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