Wendy immediately drew her into a hug.“You stopped,” said Wendy.“I killed a life!”Ever practical, I suggested, “You should move your car.”...endy waved me away.A hurried consultation.“Keys are in it, David,” Wendy said. “Move it. Put it behind the Jeep.”“Yes, Ma’am.”I moved the car and parked it behind the Jeep. I took the keys out of the ignition. Wendy, by this time, had the girl on the porch. Wendy took the keys.“Glass of tea, David,” Wendy said. She asked the girl, “Sweet or yankee?”“Sweet,. Next she turned an interesting shade of reddish brown and turned her head away from my gaze.I apologized for the public feel, but asked her what she expected from a Marine when presented with a "target of opportunity" and offered to buy at least a few drinks to make up for the offense.Several drinks, several kisses at the table in the back corner of the bar and several long slow feels of her smooth thighs, we agreed that the appropriate thing to do was to head to the apartment that I rented at. Anal at the top of the list. Pain was another. A light smack on the butt when she was going doggy was okay, but nothing more. She had seen BOTH the Fathers pop Mom's hieny when they went doggy-style, but not enough to hurt. Her Mom said it made her cum even harder. She had asked Joseph, the brother just younger than she was to smack her the next time. He did, and she started coming on the spot. She had, that day, made him cum five times. Three of them inside her. Mom had taken her on her 14th. That's one of the things I like best about you," I said, feeling her nipples harden against my chest."Am I a good kisser?" I don't know. Let me check."Our kiss was soft, nibbling at first, progressing to full suction until we were forced to stop and take a breath."Well?" You're an excellent kisser." Not bad for an old lady. Is that what you mean?" Not bad at all." Am I a... good... lay?"The way she asked the question, haltingly, uncertain, like she really didn't know, made me want to assure.