What's going on here? what am I doing? I thought. Just then we reached their car, a large saloon. I'm not up on cars so I don't know what make it was....The older guy opened the back door and meekly I climbed in."You drive," he said to his younger companion, and he got in beside me."Oh these are nice," he said, his hand reaching under my jacket and cupping my left boob."Oh thanks," I heard myself replied."What size are they?" he asked, as I have said, my boobs are my pride, so with some relish I. .. was... my fault!" he mumbled between sobs.Derek looked at his son, he looked straight at Arrian's eyes."It was not your fault, what happened was something that was meant to happen." Derek said giving his son a reassuring smile."I knew you were very special, the moment you were born. I knew that you would take care of your mother, if anything happened to me, later when your sister was born, I knew you would care for her too." But, I'm not you dad!" Arrian said exasperated."Nor should you want. "Out in the middle of nowhere, dodging moose, water cold enough to turn you into a popsicle, no streaming movies or internet porn..." And Aunt Denise still has over-the-air tv, can you believe it?" I chime in cheerfully, remembering the cute weatherman on the Bangor station who brightened last summer's forecasts.Diandra scowls. "I'd say that's a prison sentence, but even prisoners get cable." She buffs and bites a ripe Bartlett, and her eyes close in contentment. "Mmm, these are so good. My. "Hands above your head. Cross your wrists, good Slave. Now, dance for me. Gyrate, good...now, lower...mm, very nice...turn around and let me see that ass...yes..." She steps forward lightning-quick, left arm wrapping the girl's chest, right encircling her hips, crushing her aching, swollen pussy against her palm, savoring the whimper of arrousal as she bucks helplessly, kissing their Slave's sweaty, warm neck hungrily, purring as she tastes the salty, slick, glistening skin. "Mm, you like.