Tori’s straight black hair was cut to just below the neck; her hazel eyes looked into mine as her red lips parted.“Thank you for inviting us,” s...e said in her soft Rhondda accent. “It makes a change to go abroad without the children. I’ve never been to Malta before.”“No problem,” I replied. “We’ll pick up the hire car, drop the bags at the apartment then I’ll show you all a good local pub.”Her hand reached across the aisle and patted mine, then held it. Dressed in a summery dress, I tried not. Immediately after transferring our possessions to the new SUV, I turned in the other one.We departed Cincinnati on I-75 just after 11:00 that morning, and followed it south to its intersection with I-71, which we took to Louisville, Kentucky where we transferred to I-64. We took I-64 all of the way to Saint Louis. We had been on the road for over eight hours counting the time needed to stop for fuel and eating.After securing a room at a hotel near the Interstate in Saint Louis, we went out for. Ugh ... Uhhh ... Yeah ... Fuck me, Coach ... Fuck my ass!" I said in between gasps and breaths and groans.I could hardly believe I was begging a man to fuck me, saying words like that. I was only in the 8th grade! But there I was, being totally used by a man older than my daddy, feeling his hot hard dick jammed into my hungry asshole. I was a boy for him and I wish I'd brought my strap-on! Next time, I promised myself, next time I'd have it just so I could see it and know I was a boy like Coach. Its seat dangles from a single cord. It reminds me of a line of a poem I studied at uni, about the sadness of home staying as it was left, shaped to the comfort of the last to go.I cross my legs and sip.Wilson has crept up behind me. He rests his chin on my head and loops his arms around me.I’m still looking at the frame. “You need some life in this house, Wilson Reedy.”“You’re pretty lively,” he says slipping his hands inwards either side of my shirt. His hands easily cover my boobs. My.