I’d been raised in the church by my mother and wanted nothing to do with my father. My older brother had joined the Army to get away from him. Follo...ing in his footsteps, I joined, and because he was airborne, I got my wings, too. The competition was brutal, but only because I was a female and the guys thought they were tougher, stronger, and just better than us ladies. What they thought we were good for was providing sex, plain and simple.So I set out to prove I was better than they were.. Back at my apartment I washed my hands at the kitchen sink. Got out my ingredients and began to make one of my special mocha lattes.I heard some scratching sounds at the door.Looking threw the peephole I could find nothing so I took my coffee to the living room and turned the stereo on to some classical music.After a few minutes I heard the scratching again.Back at the door I listened carefully. When I heard it sound like movement behind the door and still no one could be seen threw the spy. “Why assumptions? We both know something of our past.”She giggled, straight to the point, and I mumbled my agreement. I brought the car to a halt for traffic. “English, do you think about it?”“About what?”“The past?”Looking over, her mischievous smile grew: permission to continue.“What makes you say that?”“Intuition, a guess,” she mused, “You have a conscience like me. You did not read your book on the beach, you were thinking a lot.”Pulling out of a junction, “I do have a conscience,” and. She set the glass down, trembling."Here, let me help you, hon," Sara said, stepping close and steadying her daughter's hand. She stood close, her breast rubbing gently against Cindy's arm, took her hand and gently kissed the fingers, as Cindy leaned her head back, shivering with delight at her mother's touch. Then she felt her mother's warm lips kissing her throat, sucking sweetly at the erotic hollows. She put her hands on Sara's shoulders to steady herself, then felt her mother's hot breath.