Frank tucked in his shirttails. “I said, knock it off!” he replied sharply. “Get dressed, now!”Startled, the teens put their clothing back on....Frank hustled them to the foyer, where they grabbed their coats and left.“What’s going on, Uncle Frank?” asked his nephew, directing him through the suburb.Frank was quiet for a moment, then spoke up. “Your mother and Ronnie are worried about your grandfather. He’s been pretty depressed since your grandmother died, and they want him to come stay with you. “Suck my clit!” I exclaim. He simply smiles and, keeping eye contact, licks me from my asshole right up to just below my clit. I groan and resist the urge to stamp my foot. He licks me again, this time harder. I think I know what he wants, but I don’t know if I want to beg him, at least not this early on. His continued licking, and avoidance of my clit, has me so desperate to cum that I seriously contemplate begging. I assume he saw the indecision (mixed with the need) on my face because he. It seemed natural. It was loving.I thought about that. If I were dating someone and sat at the table holding her hand, it would be a definite message. It would not be casual. I wouldn't do it with someone I didn't care about and from whom I wanted more. My Mom sure wouldn't do it with anyone, except me or my Dad. Yet, here I was, holding Mom's hand like a lover. Sons do have a definite advantage, I realized. We might have to go much slower with our Mother than with a date, but we sure start at. "The cops would be telling her to stay on the line, keep the caller talking."Remember me? Huh? I told you you'd hear from me again. We had such a good talk the other night." I gave her a moment, and then continued. "I've been watching you, baby. I seen you around. I told you that already. Right? I know where you go, what you do. You're lookin' good, you know that?"She couldn't control her terror anymore, and I could hear her voice break as she tried to say something.Just like Laurie had been.