“Who are you and what do you mean that you want revenge against me? How am I your assassin? I’ve done a lot of despicable things in my life, and I...know it, trust me. I’m starting to change my ways, realizing how I’ve wronged people. Believe me, I want to make amends. I’ve been a rotten excuse for a human being. I’m well aware of this. What do you want with me?” Melanie began sobbing a bit, scared to death and knowing that she was in mortal peril now.“I was your baby, the unborn child that you. I want so much to kiss you in this moment. But we haven't yet. The feeling is overwhelming. I have my hand on your waist, and lightly grip it, squeeze it. Your breath hitches, and you stop talking. Your eyes change, desire. Your eyes briefly skip to my lips and back to my eyes. Your breathing changes. Your fingers stop tracing secret messages on my arm and rest there, a slight grip. I know now, and I remove my hand from your hips and bring it up between us. I lightly graze your breasts, not. Uh ... well you see..." she stuttered. "Martha and June and I ... we had to take care of you when Momma ... went." She stopped, her throat tightening. "Momma took care of you that way." she finished in a blurt.Bob closed his eyes, searching back in his memory for Valerie's voice, yearning for those memories to surface. Betty stayed still, unsure of whether to say anything or not. Fran walked into the room and Betty put one finger to her closed lips. Fran stopped where she was, uncertain what to. She hadn’t intended to offer herself so candidly, the idea only coming to her as she peed behind the bush. The thought had stormed in on such a giddy rush of arousal, the very notion of flaunting her bare pussy to her dad was just so hot that Natasha had acted without really thinking through to the consequences. Seducing her father had, up to that moment, been mostly wild fantasy, an amorphous concept three-quarters dream and one quarter design.Even during the drive out to the secluded spot.