She gasped, the first sound I had heard from her since we were introduced.“Are you from around here?” I asked her calmly as she dripped, her light...dress soaked and clinging to her young body.She lifted her head and spat at me. She missed, and I smacked her across the face. “Answer me,” I said quietly.“You’re going to kill me,” she sobbed. “I heard that old bitch.”“It is my choice,” I said. “I can do what your friends do with pretty women, put you in a whore house. You could do twenty or so men. Dad explained what it really meant, and by the time he had finished, I realized my mother was a border-line nymphomaniac, perhaps helping to explain my own unnatural urges, which at that very moment, were focused on my fathers taut stomach muscles, and what my eyes could not see, directly under the waist towelling, right now I wanted to see and feel my fathers cock, that's why I got up and went over t him and took hold of the towel.Daddy stood rigid, scared to move as I tugged it open and. More

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