“Hi, yourself,” she smiled, leaning over and kissing me. “How are you feeling?”“Lousy. My head hurts and I feel dizzy when I move it. And I�...�ve got some kind of splint on my leg. I don’t like what I’m seeing, Gabrielle.”“Rest, my love. The doctors are going to take care of your injuries. Your doctor should be along on his afternoon rounds and can bring us both up to date on your status.”She had taken my hand and the warmth and care I saw in her face helped me calm down. I was feeling the effects. He looked sad and asked if this party was over? I told him to come with me home and help me get dinner ready and then he could have some too.We walked into my house and got into the kitchen. Steve found our little bar area in the kitchen and mixed some more drinks. I sipped on them as I started to prep. Steve came up behind me and started to massage my shoulders. He said that I looked so tense and it felt so good. Steve told me to stop for a minute and get into the living room so he could give. Even the ugly girls in the school tried to look like these women but failed miserably. They gave their men blow jobs in the bathrooms, but they were simply dumped for the beach bunnies, cheerleaders, and future centerfolds that they really wanted.I carried these women’s books, washed their cars, donated to their blood drives, drove them home after drunken high school parties where these men easily fondled their virgin bodies, sucked on their clits in the spare bedrooms and bathrooms of their. Hecould tell the actions excited his son. He felt excited himself justknowing he had allowed Steve to enjoy something with him. He wanted hisson to feel encouraged. Lee urged, "Go ahead, Steve; Let's see if you thinkyour old man is a stud. If I still have it like when you were a k**."Steve's fingers began to work the bottom button on his dad's shirt. Hewanted to reach up and run his hands inside it, but he had no idea what hisdad would and wouldn't allow or might enjoy. Instead, he studied the.