Or... or your mother... ?"That stopped me cold and I pulled my mouth from those saliva covered breasts to look up into the sweaty wild-eyed face of my...grandmother. The earlier shame came to me again and my fingers slipped from that heated grotto half forgotten. How had she known - was it that obvious?"I will be here for you any time you wish David - I promise you that. But who do you want to be your first, me or your mother?" By the sound of her voice, we both knew the answer. "My father, he. He whined at her that he wanted to come, but she was firm. He watched them with sad eyes as they dashed to the garage.Marty drove so that Mary could eat. He munched on a muesli bar too, between sips of sweet coffee. He could feel the ring in his pocket and got a weird sensation that it was happy to be with him even if not on his finger.He wasn’t sure what Mary was going to do. He glanced at her when she opened the packet of her third Muesli Bar and shoved it into her mouth. She wasn’t eating. More

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