You're teasing him. You're nothing but a fucking slut. He's your son for Christ's sake. Stop it!"I'm going to make me a sandwich for lunch. You want m... to make you one, too?" I asked him, stopping, turning back to face him. "Uh, yeah, sure," he said as I saw his eyes flit across my breasts again. As I went about making the sandwiches, I could feel his eyes poring over my body, studying me. It was so evident, it almost felt like he was groping me with his hands. Feeling me up. "So Mom, why were. " The sign featureda hook-nosed Baba Yaga glaring over a frightening cliff-top castle.I knocked at the door of the trailer. "Come in, Mr. Shaw," said avoice, soft, but so menacing in its power that my guts turned to water,and I almost bolted. "Come in," the voice said again, but now it wasmore a command and less an invitation. I turned the handle and walkedin.An old woman was sitting at the camper's table playing solitaire. Shewas dressed in the sort of stretch polyester that had been. More

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