And, man, her ass was even tighter."They continued laughing, jibing each other with merriment. And then they stopped laughing when they heard a loud crash. Running to the parlor, they found pieces of a shattered vase on the floor. Looking at each other in confusion, Mrs. Smither shrugged and was about to get a broom and dustpan when they heard a door slam on the second floor. Mr. Smither retrieved his shotgun, cracked it open and inserted two new shells, then snapped it shut. Stuffing extra cartridges into his pocket, the two hobbled up the stairs. Mr. Smither kept a finger on the trigger as the muzzle of his shotgun led the way, cautiously conducting a room by room search. Mrs. Smither crouched behind her husband with a hand on his shoulder, peering nervously around him. When they entered the bedroom Sandy had used, Mr. Smither stopped so suddenly that Mrs. Smither bumped into him. Ropes were tied to the four bedposts and stretched on the mattress, pointing to the center of the bed. I figured (correctly as it turned out) that if he discovered me – his son – working in this kind of establishment, he probably wouldn't advertise it to his cronies (or coworkers).So if I was right, I could do my thing right in front of this crowd of dads. including my real dad, and he wouldn't let on that it was his son shaking it up on the table tops. Just then, I told Ron that I was ready to dance, and that I wanted a chance to do it in front of my dad's crowd at the downstairs lounge.I was nervous, but also horny enough that I wanted to show off my stuff for this crowd. Again, whatever they were doing in a gay establishment, I didn't know, but I intended to make the most of it.The music was cranked up. Not too loud, just enough to make the atmosphere lively. I strode out on the runway downstairs as Tad introduced me over the PA system. He of course used my stage name, "Dirty Dan". I could see various men alone and in small groups looking at me. I also saw my dad and his five.
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