He stops at the door, cracking it open to take a smoke. I don’t smoke, but I’ll gladly stand and talk to him if he’s there when I’m finished l...ading the dryer. He is still there. He’s watching me, as I bend over to tuck the laundry into the dryer. I can see him watching, and he makes no secret of it. His eyes tell me stories of what he’d like to do with what he sees, and what he doesn’t see. I wish I could live some of those stories. But life is complicated. We both know it, but the fantasies. The same could be said for the third man, whose face I didn't recognize. He was roughly the same age as my father, so I assumed that it had to be Fiona's uncle-father.I put my hand between my legs just to confirm what I had already suspected. This had been a wet dream! The image of me getting spanked, naked, with Roger, my own father and a stranger watching had turned me on! What on earth was happening to me?I had left the North Tower shortly after Fiona had terminated our conversation so. More

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