I don't take long to drift off to sleep, though mum's words of adviceare the last thing on my mind before I do, and are still resonating inmy mind whe... I wake up on Sunday morning.After showering, I pull on a comfortable long-sleeved black bodysuitfollowed by a slender ankle-length grey skirt I've borrowed from Ashleyat one of our regular clothes 'swap meets'. After the dress I wore lastnight, covering a little more of my legs does seem like a good idea. Alight layer of make-up follows before I. ”“What?”I quickly typed, “Admit it, you were dripping wet and excited reading it.”A picture of a glass of wine came from her text, “You are lucky I am a bit tipsy.”I grinned knowing I was working it out of her, “A bit tipsy? More wine at the Pub after Bob?”“Yes. The story got me hot and bothered…OK. You happy now. I was horny as hell.”I took a chance and sent, “You wanted to be the one being bent over. Spanked at bit. Getting it nice and hard.”“Do I have to tell you everything that was going. She sensed that there was an underlying hostility or arrogance in his attitude to her, and that his disrespect was a form of that aggression.She noticed with displeasure that he had followed her into the kitchen, and willing herself to take no notice of him, began to look for the fuses. She wasn't quite sure where they were and rummaged around in the kitchen drawer. They weren't there and she knew that they must be on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet, where she kept the electric light. Stace, our 14 year old daughter spends like a sixteen year old. She's attractive enough. She doesn't need the makeup and makeovers and makewhatevers, she saves every cent of her allowance for. We were making it, a living. Can't say that for most of our neighborhood. Funny thing is, the community next to ours began booming when the LINK rail line passed through it. Not that the mayor's investments in that district had anything to do with the convoluted divergence from the light rail's originally.