“Guh ... get me out of here!” her voice rose almost to a scream. He shushed her again, and strangely, the second time, she shut up again. God, he ...ished he had his automatic or the AR now, after that much noise. He wondered if the people in the house could hear the woman or if they cared. He figured it wasn’t the first time screams had been heard from the barn. Not if it had people in cages in it.“Who are you?” the woman suddenly said, conversationally. He was taken aback by her sudden change. He stood mesmerised yet again, motionless his jaw silently working but no words arriving, his mum stood before him, feet about 15” apart hands on hips, her sandy coloured muff fully on show and between her legs, nothing just two lips vanishing between her thighs. Was this all there was he wondered, all he had wondered about all this time, the bit blanked out in the health and efficiency magazine that had been passed and fingered by every lad in the class! Here it was, a real one… and that was. She lived on a long dirt road just before the black top started. we hit the Company store for a soda and snack. we sat under the tree in the truck talking. She told me stories of farms where the wifes of the farmers were fucked in the house while the farmer was getting a BJ from a crew worker. Would compare notes after. Created a list of good wives and best farms to work. How some farmers would need a second medication treatment. Was the farmer paying Becca for sex or a three some with her. Com/photos/gallery/7482925/131482691Alessandra sits down with me for a cold drink during the 'Indian Summer' in the first weeks after her school starts, early September, about a dozen years ago. I quickly notice, she is smart indeed, as she is autistic. She rarely looks into my face during our talks. Her eyes dwell often in the same direction as mine do sometimes, for the nice young yummies like her, who pass by our terrace, around the corner from our street. Alessandra blushes, but does not.