’ ‘No, Mom, not Peter,’ I said. Peter was my Dad’s name. ‘It’s me. Mark. Your son.’ ‘Mark?’ she said, voice wavering. The look of co...fusion in her eyes almost made me want to weep. Mom was once a good looking woman, back in her youth. Before Dad. Now she looked tired. Not old, not really. Not like she was actually pushing fifty. She’d stopped dying her hair, and it was white now, and she’d gained weight, but she kept out of the sun and her olive colored skin was almost wrinkle free. It was her. Whatever. I’m done. Go back to the dorm and don’t say a word. Just keep your stupid fucking mouth shut.” He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. “Stupid fucker, ‘just kill her, Jordan’. Stupid fucker. Fucking death penalty. Shit.” He was walking down stairs, my feet sticking out in front.Play dead, Francie. Don’t do anything stupid. It’s a bear, Francie, play dead. A trunk. God, please let him keep his sanity. Please. More acrid, putrid... “Miss. Miss, are you OK? Miss?” I felt. “Oh so wet,” he told me, as if he didn’t expect it already. His finger traced down my slippery slit, I gasped as he started putting pressure on my clit with his finger and thumb. I had forgotten how rough yet gentle he could be, I could feel my body yearn for him as he increased his speed and then stopped. I moaned at the loss of his touch until he replaced his finger with his tongue. I groaned again, this time in more ecstasy as he tongued my clit and started to tease my opening with his. It’ll last for years,” he answered and showed me how to attach the shield to the harness on the back of the costume. I reached over my shoulder and felt the clasp, letting the shield slide down off my arm and into the slot. “Perfect!” he said lightly. “Let’s get it off and hung up and then you can be on your way. It doesn’t need any adjusting.”I stripped it off and got dressed without even noticing that the three women were watching closely. I was still thanking them both profusely, astounded.