Once you sleep with her, she thinks she owns you. Otherwise, you’ll have to pretend you’re queer, but that will put you on the Bishop’s radar an...ther way. . . I took a big gulp of my Scotch. FRIDAY The bishop’s car arrived at ten o-clock, a black Peugot pulled up to the curb and deposited father and daughter. Bishop Delacroix was a short, portly man with a red face, huge nose and straggly, white hair that he wore combed over. Violette Delacroix wore a teal Laurent original with a V neck and. “You look tired. Didn’t you sleep well last night?”Again, I didn’t know what to say, surprised by her allusion to last night’s activies.Mom’s smile broadened. “I think you should have a nap this afternoon if you’re going to come to the theater with us tonight. What do you think, Cliff?”“What?” my father looked up, not really aware of what had been said.“Michael. He looks so tired. He should have a nap this afternoon before going to the theater with us tonight.”“Theater?” Dad repeated.Mom’s. ‘Remember – from tomorrow stockings!’ I slowly scrambled up into the attic, ashamed, vulnerable but helpless, conscious that the man saw up my skirt and would see the telltale dampness between my legs. Gathering me against his body, holding me in a tight grip he carefully uncovered my breasts while I whimpered and sobbed, trying to avoid the wet kisses. The cry I let loose when he guided my hand to feel his hard organ could have raised the roof. ‘No, I will not look at it!’ I screamed at him,. "Maybe we could help each other out."I stammered out a reply. "What do you mean?" I knew I was gay, but I was only 16 and nervous as hell. My sexual experience consisted of daily stroke sessions with my left hand."Come on. I know you look at me. Hey, it's Ok. I look at you too. You have a nice body. It must get boring stroking that beautiful cock by yourself. " Yeah. But what if someone hears us." We'll just have to be quiet"With that, he moved his hand from my thigh and slowly began.