Mrs. Smith was older than my mother was, her husband worked at the local bank, and her children were in college or married.When she answered the door ... handed her the rose and said, “I can take pictures of you that will make you look prettier than this rose. May I show you some of my work?”Mrs. Smith let me and offered me a glass of iced tea. We sat in the kitchen and she looked at each picture. She commented on several of them. The last four were of my mother. I had talked her into posing one. I still couldn't believehow easily she had manipulated and belittled me. "You're leaving me veryfrustrated."This seemed to be music to Alexia's ears. She grinned happily. "Good.Glad to hear it. Now go."We hugged, and I kissed her full on the mouth. Nor did I give her just apeck. I held it as long as she let me, till finally she pushed me away.Her eyelashes fluttered almost prettily, and she giggled like a younggirl. My kiss surprised her, but not in a bad way. She looked a bitflushed herself,. At one point he said it would be effective if we made the offer with the correct wording in front of friends or business associates of my parents. It would put Dad on the defensive again, while appearing to be a sincere attempt to bring us all closer. Nobody would be fooled, but it would be difficult to turn us down. The strangest situation surrounded my wedding. I discussed plans with my Mother. We talked about family. We talked about my Father’s business contacts and some of the things we. I whimpered, the passion needing to escape me. I couldn’t hold it in. It was too much.The door opened.Clarissa backed in, wearing her pink bathrobe. It was open. Dave, a tall guy with brown hair and the tattoo of a dragon wrapped around his right arm, groped my sister’s tit. He squeezed her round breast, his thumb rubbing over her pink nipple. I shuddered, wanting to see the good part.Her hands ripped at the t-shirt he wore. She pulled it off of him, forcing him to release her breast and break.