My neighbor’s son stands shirtless in the driveway; his baggy shorts hang low around trim hips. He’s not wearing boxers, and a shiver races throug... me despite the heat. His cock, which I know to be long and thick, hangs heavily, tenting the cotton khaki of his shorts. I lick my lips. “How are you today?” he asks, stepping into my personal space. I look past him. His truck is the only car in the driveway next door. “Fine. My kids are napping. I just put them down.” His full mouth curves. He’d done, or allowed to be done wrong, bad, things to her. Could she forgive that? Would she ever be able to forget that, probably not? On one occasion during the long night when he was out of it she lay her head on his chest. She pulled open the gown he was wearing. His chest was hairy, not like Turner’s almost nude chest. Martin had a good hairy chest, not too much hair but enough to make him look manly. She rubbed her hands through his chest hair. It had a good feel. She looked at his. More

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