‘Arson,’ she said simply. Marilyn turned her head, and Penny explained to her: ‘There’s no other answer. The buildings are burning evenly, the...odds of multiple sites like that starting at once are incredible.’ A dark, coarse voice addressed them. ‘That’s an interesting deduction.’ Marilyn turned back, as the man, talking to the police officer opened addressed them. She walked forward another step and said, ‘Marilyn Marshall, the bookstore is, or was, mine. This is my personal secretary, Penny.’. Ben mumbled a greeting (a half-hearted ‘goomornin’) and went straight for a box of cereal. He lazily splashed some milk in a bowl, grabbed a spoon, mixed the contents and began grazing like a cow from his place at the edge of the breakfast table.His father, Peter, looked up from his newspaper just long enough to give Ben a once over and frowned slightly. He was a big man hardened by a lifetime of construction work and outdoorsy activities. That his only son would turn out to be such an. My pussy feels hot. Jostling my hips only makes it worse. I try to just grin and bare it. I try to focus on my breasts. So warm. My mind wanders again. Maybe it would feel nice to just stretch my pussy...a little? No. No no no. I must not think about it. My inner thighs are damp and slide against each other easily as I squirm. My pussy quivers again, trying to draw attention to itself, almost angrily. I lower my right hand and reach between my legs. My hand gently brushes against my labia. I blamed too many rock concerts. Amy blamed old age.I went and let Felicity in. It seemed that lately, whenever she came from her father she arrived in tears. This was no exception. I held her for a few moments before telling her that Amy was in the other room. After seemingly picking herself up, she followed me to the front room where my daughter was waiting.Felicity told us that her father had been furious with her, threatening to disinherit her altogether. After a futile hour of trying to.