“Of course not love. Let’s face it, love, your mother’s a whore. She can’t complain about her daughter being a much more imaginative slut than...I’ve ever been.”“It’s okay Mum, don’t put yourself down. I’ve learned such a lot.”Rhona sat down. “Go on, tell me. I’m not going to like it, am I?”“Dad used to beat you up because he thought you were a slut. Right?”“I wasn’t.” She let out a nervous chuckle. “I wish I had been.”“Why did he think you were?”“Because, back then I was a dish, guys were. ”“Don’t worry about it, Rita, I was just curious. Since I have their home phone numbers, I can call them after dinner. I will speak with them to see if they might be interested.”Betty turned to Carol and said, “Carol, this roast chicken is wonderful. What sort of glaze did you use? I can’t figure out what gives it this flavor.”With a short laugh, Carol said, “It’s something Mom did when she fixed dinner on special occasions. I peeled and chopped up two bananas and put them inside the chicken. Sitting up, she pulled her wet dress over her head. She ran her hands over her body, feeling the wetness of her son's piss on her flesh. She stood up, her legs weak and shaky. Picking up her dress, she walked slowly down the hall. Passing the bathroom just as her son stepped from the shower, she glanced in.Rich grinned at her, toweling his chest. She looked at his cock and balls, and gave in to the impulse. Giggling, she stuck her tongue out at him playfully, throwing her dress at him. Rich. "These glasses are cool stuff," Black said as he brought up another program on the computer. "There are hundreds of tiny photo receptors sandwiched in between the inner and outer lenses. The receptors are connected by ultra-fine wire filaments to a crystal memory in one of the temple pieces. So we end up with a picture of whatever the lenses saw." He tapped at the keyboard and squinted at the monitor as he tilted his head from side to side. "The good news is that the glasses are undetectable by.