Not yet. She needed more data. She closed her eyes, let them dark-acclimate for a few seconds, then opened them one at a time, watching the light fiel... and imagery change as each adapted -- things seemed symmetrical, so probably no concussion. Now that she was functioning mentally, her whole-body ache was dichotomized, very different above and below the waist. Was she paralyzed? Had she broken her back, cut her spinal cord? Coldly, rationally she suppressed emotion and incipient panic. NO, not. And I would give it to her. She was loud, louder than any other girl I've fucked, it turned me on. I started to thrust her harder and faster, she couldnt control her body, she was moaning so much I thought she would run out of breath at one point. I let go of her tits, I love seeing tits bounce and they bounced, hitting her chin as they went up and down in motion with my fucking. As fatigue came, I laid down, pulls her by her hips and she got on top of me. She put my dick in her, she was drunk. Love you.’ ‘Bye Mom.’ ‘Bye baby’ Holy moly. Who was that woman, and what did she do with my mom? Caleb wondered. ‘Was that your mom, sweetie?’ Gretchen asked, groggily. ‘Oh Gretch, you woke up. Sorry. You want to go back to sleep?’ he asked softly. ‘No, I’m OK. I’m recovering, but I’m thirsty. Can I get you something? I’ve got water, diet coke, beer…’ ‘Water would be good.’ ‘OK, just a sec.’ Gretchen groaned as she got up off her man. And she thought of him as her man. Not that she wouldn’t. Whenever I have the boys around, we usually ‘power load’ through this amount of shots, so whilst I thought I would still be standing (just), I wasn’t sure how Jo and Laura would cope.I called them over and huddled round the sink, we sank them back together. The rum was a killer but they all went down and I could feel my stomach, and head, tingling at the alcoholic assault I was subjecting it to. Jo struggled with her shots and said she’d have to pass on the Baileys. Laura did all three with.