“Whack!” She watched her dad bury his face in the cushion.Joanne took the thick leather strap back over her right shoulder and sent it hurtling th...ough the air towards the centre of her dad’s red and bruised bottom.“Whack!” Her dad’s legs came kicking up as the pain registered in his brain.“Whack!” She caught him low down, right between buttock and thighs.“Whack!” The thick piece of tan-coloured leather landed in the dead centre of Jim Wilson’s bottom.Joanne looked over at her mother. Katherine. The curator explained that, when records were being transferred from the White House to the Library, it had been assumed that these boxes pertained to late WW II. It was only after they had been in Kansas City for ten years, that a volunteer opened the boxes and found out they were Civil War records instead.Then, the Federal bureaucracy being what it is, it had been so difficult to arrange to send them back, that the Truman Library had simply kept them and made them available for scholarly. She turned bight red. “You fucking twerp!Who the fuck do you think you are?” She roared. Iblanched. I am not used to being yelled at. “It’s just that I…” “I-I… you think only of yourself Jason. You are aselfish prick. Just like most men. You think justbecause you have a dick hanging between your legs thatgives you special rights. We’ve all see how you stareat us around here. We are nothing but fuck-dumps toyou. All you think about all day is. They're really uncomfortable if they're yours.Rachel traced a neat line with her nose, nuzzling my jaw, down the softof my neck, around a bare shoulder, nudging a breast aching to be groped."Well, you wanted to get to second base with me...Let's see how far therabbit hole goes..."I found myself holding on to her, hands around her neck, in massive shockof being the sexier half of a lesbian schoolgirl fantasy with mygirlfriend. I found myself enjoying it tremendously. But the best momentcame.