20 on Mosquito Road. I memorized it, recited it, and dreamed about it. I had a location.Every day of my first fifteen years, it seemed, I crossed U.S....20. It was on the way to school, to church, to groceries, to deliver my newspapers. No matter where I wanted to go, I either crossed U.S. 20 or traveled along it. My school was on U.S. 20. The church was half a mile off. Every day I’d look up or down the McKinley Highway and wonder where it went.This summer, I decided to find out.Back to BostonI. Bob looked down at his young daughter and her now exposed bottom just barely covered by the thin panties the stretched material did little to hide the oblivious mound that was her sex . Lynda noticed the also and stooped down to her level and ran a finger from the small of Tina's back along her spin over her bums crack and down her sex Tina stopped sobbing and looked back. " Mommy what are you doing " she asked in a nervous tone, Bob suddenly slammed the belt down on her bum " Shut the fuck up. More

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