Lift. Nothing. Lift HARD. Nothing. One more try. Did I feel movement? I repositioned for a fresh purchase. Pulled. We were rewarded by a half-inch of ...ovement. I shoved it back down.“Why’d you do that?” Lena questioned.“Working the hinges,” I said. I whacked them with the hammer again, then went back to the prybar. Next try got us an inch. I could get fingers into the gap. I lifted. Nothing. Another round with the hinges, then this time I got the lid to forty-five degrees. One more time, and we. Deciding it would be best if neither of the kids found the pictures, he put them on the upper shelf in the closet.Returning to the living room, he watched for a moment as the boys studied the motorcycle driver’s manual. Clearing his throat, he said, “You’ll have to get your mother to come with us, Abe.”“I know. We just covered that part of the manual. She has to sign some papers.”“When will she get off work?” asked Jerry.“She’ll get home about three,” answered the young man.Bill looked up from. I snagged her phone number, planning a rendezvous for later that afternoon. At about 2:30 PM, I called and she said that she was home alone and free for the afternoon. She gave me directions to her apartment and told me to bring a pint of whiskey. Here I went, Jim Bean, brown-bagged, in hand, to her apartment, which was a glorified dorm room on campus. I hadn't ever seen her before and this was in the day before Facebook, so I was somewhat nervous about what would answer the door. I figured. "She leaned closer and turned my head and kissed my lips. It wasn't a long, hard, passionate kiss. But neither was it a kiss between two women who were just friends. It was a kiss that promised wonderful things to come.I blushed and admitted that I had enjoyed a very erotic dream last night too. I was grateful when just at that moment Jon came over with a tray and said, "Okay girls, grab your coffee and let's go."We went out to the pool and sat at a table near the water but shaded by a large.