Except for one particular night, that is – a night that stands all alone in my memory. After all, it was the night that Mom was shot. She certainly ...as not hurt, but if she reads this story and figures out which of her son’s shot her, that son might not be getting much in the way of Christmas presents this year. Confused? You should be. Let me start at the beginning. The year was 1972. We were living in a small town in western Pennsylvania. There were three of us: Roger was 15 and Rory was 10.. "Well...." she said, preparing to deliver the worst possible news, "heactually got us out of bed. He had a key to the house and had let himselfin. I hadn't thought to change the locks. I didn't hear him enter. When hecalled out to me that he was there my lover and I were in the throes, as itwere. We were naked in my bed doing sixty-nine on each other. He probablycould have busted the door down and we wouldn't have heard. We were caughtcompletely off guard when he called out my name. So there. He’s into those movies where the pornstar gives a blow job, then gets a ratherunimaginative fuck–first in the missionary position,next doggie–and finally, a cum shot. I act allenthused when he asks me if I like that.One time he rented a short video to show me how sickand depraved some videos were. It consisted of a girlwho was blindfolded with her hands shackled to thebed. There were 10 men surrounding the bed and eachone in various ways used her, ultimately climaxing allover. Once inside she found herself in a hallway with five nameplates near the elevator, one of them said “Octo-Neko Sutajio 3rd Floor”. As soon as she arrived on the third floor, she faced a lobby with the logo she was looking for on the wall in the background. She approached the lobby and introduced herself to the woman behind the lobby, after which she was asked by the same woman to take a seat. There were several other girls and women sitting in the waiting room, ranging from Japanese to.