.. my adopted Dad, friend of the family, really..." Ken sighed, trying to figure out how to describe Sandra, "he's an architecture critic in England ..... Do you really think I could?"Ken looked up at Tim and somehow their foreheads were touching again."Of course you could," Tim said, softly. "You're smart, you're organized, and you see how things should be. You're..." Tim leaned in closer, their noses were touching, " ... amazing."What am I going to do? Ken mind was whirling, his eyes. Mum was screaming beside me, as she was fucked in the arse and pussy at the same time, she was on fire, all thoughts of the camera gone. She was a cock slut. A camera slut. I’d seen her fucked before, and each time she loved it. Now she seemed out of control. Baz sensed it as well, and the guys fucking me, moved to her. She had four guys playing tag, first one cock, then another. All her holes were filled. I lay beside her, masturbating, watching. She was she hot, it made me come just watching. There was an exchange of words, she climbed into her car and drove slowly from the parking area.I stood in the shadows as the man I had known so well and for so long stared at the woman’s disappearing vehicle, then made his way into the dark recesses of the car park, out of my line of sight.I exhaled then inhaled deeply, unaware that I had been holding my breath throughout their embrace. My heart was thumping, my face flushed, my mind in turmoil and those parts of me that the cool air could. The memory I’m reminiscing about though was the day following the Westport boys. A Sunday morning and I took the 57 Wornal to the Country Club Plaza by myself. Once I doffed my tee, I was Jailbait Personified.Painted-on pink short-shorts that my mother had never seen. A bare midriff white top that showed off my golden tan and showcased my nipples. White sneakers with heels.I actually wasn’t looking to hook up with anyone. I just liked how I looked and wanted to be seen on that sunny.