It was an older man with creamy brown skin, the hair on his head sparse, but his beard thick. A smile formed on his face and he held up a finger, moti...ning for her to come into the store. Nervously she nodded and opened the glass door, a jingle of bells playing above her as she entered.The smell of incense wafted into her nostrils as she breathed. They used incense in her yoga classes sometimes, but this smelled a little different – she shook her head slightly, feeling like her memories were. Troy had become frozen again. It was like the sight of her tits could turn him into a statue. This was fun.With the door open, Tori stared into the bathroom mirror. With her peripheral vision, she noticed Troy. With one hand she pulled up her shirt and with the other hand she pretended to inspect her left tit. She could see him in the mirror trying to hide his presence.She took her time looking at and touching her tit. He stood there the whole time watching her. She wondered how long he would. Why was I still alive? I glanced again at my father; hatred and shame burned in his eyes.He knows. He knows my great shame. I wilt beneath the intensity of his gaze, looking away. My mother sat demurely next to me in a dark jilbab and a colorful shaylah covering her head. She was a proper Muslim woman. Unlike me.I felt the tears running down my eyes as I shamefully remembered how amazing being with Lucy had been. Why couldn't I have just died? It would have been so much easier than having to. The bedside lamp provided a good level of background lighting. The decision was to leave it on or not? Royce had been a man who’d preferred it off, as apparently many men and women did. But Royce was no longer in the frame. Betsy decided she wanted the light on – this was probably a oncer and he would be away by daylight. At some stage she’d like to examine his dick out of curriosity. His physique looked awesome, so why waste one of the important senses by turning out the light and having to.