She knew from experience that lifting them was not a good idea either. Her fingers carefully tested for her glasses. Once she had them back, she immed...ately felt like a new person, she felt back in control. She allowed herself time for one deep breath then returned to action. Her mental clock was thinking she might have 4 or 5 minutes left at most. Now she could see the slipknots well enough to work them loose. The blood returning to her tortured buds was even more horrible than she might have. She didn’t try to convince herself that merely opening her robe for him and letting him masturbate while looking at her didn’t constitute incest. She didn’t indulge in semantics. She knew what had been going through his mind as he stroked, both back when she was fifteen and now. He’d been imagining having sex with her and those were incestuous fantasies. But the truth was that this didn’t feel like incest to her. It was just a sister taking care of her badly injured brother, helping him find. Flaming amber and burnt umber. They could not look away from each other. They had no wish to look away. Erik surrendered to his body's overwhelming need. His hard shaft pistoned into the welcoming wetness of her sheath with an ever increasing rapidity. Christine met each of his thrusts with powerful, fluid movements of her own. Still their eyes held fast, one to the other. And, in the depths of their eyes, a small flame sparked and a fire ignited. The fire kindled and burned brighter as time. "Hello." Good afternoon. Am I speaking to Georgia Hamilton?" Sorry, no. Georgia's not currently in the city." This is Jim Stallworth. I'm a reporter for the Columbus Record. I need to speak to Ms. Hamilton about an interview for a feature story." Are you a sports guy?" Am I a sports guy? ... No ... Why?" Georgia just did it yesterday -- broke the NCAA scoring record for women's basketball. You're the first reporter to call!" I ... wasn't calling about that. Didn't even know about it, although.