“Why not?”“I wouldn’t know where to begin,” the driver said.Pointing to the book he was reading, Betsy asked, “Where does that book begin?...��“It begins with the discovery of the body.”“So start your story there.”“Nobody wants to read a murder mystery about a regular person.”“You do,” Betsy said.“Oh, yeah. I guess I do,” the driver said.“So write one.”“I just might do that,” the driver said.Betsy said, “If you’ve got enough time to read a couple of books, then I’d say that you’ve got plenty of. The girl entered the washroom and Carol followed her in. The girl was looking in the mirror as she put sun lotion on her arms.Carol summoned some courage and blurted, "Do you need any assistance?" Pardon?" the girl asked, startled."You have such light skin," Carol came up with. "I would hate for your back to burn." Oh thanks," she said, as she handed Carol the bottle, unable to reach her back.Carol took the lotion, squirted much more than needed into her hands and then generously and slowly. Of course she covered the bases by saying that she felt guilty for thinking about me that way. I was her brother, after all, which was why she masked her true feelings by being cruel and bitchy to me. She actually used the word "bitchy" and my mother didn't even flinch. So that got us up to the point of the accident, and why, when she heard my voice in her coma, it meant so much to her. She glanced at me and I knew it was my turn. I wasn't as good at this as she was. I hoped the truth would. It just does not seem right somehow.”“Ok, then let’’s go to my room and find out if that is a possible or not.”I was really reluctant but followed her soon as I shook the last drop of urine off my cock. It had risen to about half mast all on its own, one would not wonder why, I had this slutty feeling like I was getting into something very taboo. Something no one should be doing, but there was Aunty Barbra, whom I had many wet dreams about fucking, teasing me toward her bed.I looked at her.