For years, since childhood, he has tried earnestly to win, and he thought he would at least, upon victory, leave the rec room unscathed. But apparentl... not!I am not an abusive Mommie. I just want my boys to learn two lessons. One, that they should play to win, our country is backward scholastically compared to others because of this negative thing of ?It’s not about winning it’s just how you play the game? nonsense?and then the other lesson is, don’t be disrespectful to Mommie!I can hear. Sweetheart. I miss you, and I know you'd love New York. Will you understand? For me? And treat yourself better, and be patient?" Well... okay." Don't say okay if you don't mean okay."I laughed. "Okay." And buy yourself a typewriter?" No." Oh... stubborn! Hon, please write me. And please take it easy."Halloween passed. Thanksgiving. Three more letters and then Christmas cards passed between us. Then Christmas. 1957 began. Then Ronnie found a better job and moved into a vacancy in the same. We spent the rest of the day in downtown Chicago playing tourist; starting with lunch in a garden restaurant at the Art Institute, my wife's minor was art; and then some window shopping along Michigan Avenue. My wife had worn her new denim mini-skirt, which was long compared to what she would normally wear, a simple off-white silk blouse without a bra, ankle socks and comfortable walking shoes. She did manage to find this tiny little plaid skirt that we bought in a small boutique on Michigan. Jamie looked down and saw the drool start to slip from her mouth as she continued to suck him, never gagging her bugging as he reached the end of her mouth with every throat. He loved his sister’s blowjobs because here he got to see her at her most primal and sluttiest form, on her knees frantically frigging her own cunt with an audible slipping sound as she thrusted in and out of her soaked lips whilst throating her brother’s cock. This was the side of his sister that belonged only to him.As.