I finally found the corner of the property and turned to drive toward the back wall. About fifty yards along, the stone wall came to an end and was re...laces by a ten-foot high chain-link fence with razor wire along the top. I guess the stone wall was just for decoration, or maybe to give the place the look of a fortress. The ride was all uphill to the rear fence. There was a spot where I could look down on the house, and I saw that the entire back roof, the south-facing side, was solid solar. Of course, over the years, most of these nights tend to run together – every Saturday was the same. Except for one particular night, that is – a night that stands all alone in my memory. After all, it was the night that Mom was shot. She certainly was not hurt, but if she reads this story and figures out which of her son’s shot her, that son might not be getting much in the way of Christmas presents this year. Confused? You should be. Let me start at the beginning. The year was 1972. We were. Roos-anne groaned to me as I slid two fingers inside of her, her asshole opening for me thanks to the soap that covered her hot little hole."Please daddy, please," she said to me in a whisper as I put one hand on her hip and the other on my cock. She tilted her hips slightly, raising herself up towards me, and I pushed the knob head of my cock against her pink opening.I heard a sharp intake of breath as my cock entered her ass, my shaft stretching her ass wide open. I now had both hands on her. ’ ‘No. It had to be you.’ She turned around. ‘But why?’ ‘Because you really care about me.’ He moved closer, letting his fingers touch her hand. ‘And that’s what I want.’ He slid two fingers under her chin, lifting her eyes to his. ‘Someone who really cares about me.’ Slowly, he bent, assessing her response the closer he got until his mouth was touching hers. Her lips were soft and warm and smelled like the cherry lip balm that he’d seen her use earlier and he slipped his hand fully inside.