Thomas well……her wicked sense of humour - and hershort skirts! With an inward curse he dragged his mind back to thepresent and stared at his mothe... fearful that she might send him awayas soon as they arrived home when all he wanted now was a chance toexplain….no, to excuse his youthful excesses and tell her howmuch…..….oh, God what could he say? As he gazed at his mother he knewshe could still, if she wished, light a wicked fire in his bellydespite the terrible uncertainties that now hung over. Different when the lipstick was on my side of the kiss. "It feels different, doesn't it, darling, almost like a womankissing a woman, doesn't it?" Yes Mistress".I felt so relieved my eyes began to tear upagain. She noticed and handed me a tissue. "Careful of your mascara," she said. "We wAnt to keep itlooking nice, don't we. You worked very hard to give that to meand I don't want you to damage your gift to me." Yes, Mistress," I blotted it gently, "I see that you've given me all your body. ’ The figure doesn’t make any form of response, but as I slowly move around the bed towards the window I can sense its eyes following me. I reach the bedside table. ‘You’re in my room…I suppose, then, you won’t mind if I shed some light in here…’ No response again. I take a small packet of matches out of one of the drawers, being sure to carefully withdraw my gun also. I take it into my hand and, in fiddling with the packet with the other, carefully prepare it for any sudden movements. I. Would they be kissing? Will they be feeling her breasts? Will they be getting their hands up her skirt? Five minutes had passed and you just knew that after that time something would be happening.It was at this point I felt again the need to be closer to Liz. I was curious, I hated the situation, but I just wanted to know what was happening. I felt that even if the worst was happening, its better knowing rather than wondering. I found myself on the stairs. I did not make a conscious move to be.