Forty-five minutes in total.A pop-up window. A new message.More importantly, a message from her. From my foreign correspondent. I opened up the messag... and saw a symbol of a paper-clip. An attachment. Probably just her sending me back a reply, I thought, with my original video.I read her words. Slowly and carefully, I read her reply.“My funny friend. I hope you don’t mind me calling you that, but we have shared enough that I feel I must call you a friend. As for calling you funny, you make me. Naturally I was upset at being separated from Henry after only a few months of marriage, so on the day Henry left I was quite emotional when they arrived at the apartment to pick me up. His mother, Mary, immediately wrapped her arms around me and gave me a big hug, holding me for an absolute age as I wept a little on her shoulder, and when she let go and went to make a cup of coffee I was surprised to find his father, Jack, take her place and wrap his arms around me and hold me tight. But it. ”“Thank you, boss.”“You’re welcome, Brandon. Have a good night.”“You too, sir.”...Checking the feed from Alissa's room during the day became almost an obsession. After she got home from school, I'd check on her at least twice every hour, just to see what she was doing, how she was doing, and to admire my girl.I also sent her a message soon as I knew she was home, as I was curious."Good afternoon, sweetheart. How was school?" Hi. It was ok." She answered right away."Did you notice anything. ” I stuttered.“Never mind, go to your room and put on clean clothes. I’ll see you in the kitchen when you’re done.”Mom ushered me out the bedroom door closing it behind me. I swear I heard her giggle. Walking quietly across the house to my room, I began to have self doubts.I had been so cocky and testosterone inspired when I thought about the events that occurred, leading me to fucking my mother. My father meant nothing while I was screwing his wife. He was an asshole when his wife and I were.