“Call her,” Jen suggested. “Or maybe I should call her. If she’s mad at you it’s because of me.”“I was there, too,” he told her. “If...she’s mad at me it’s because of me. I could have stopped but I didn’t. Don’t blame yourself.”Easier said than done, Jen thought to herself. Her guilt was magnified tenfold when Brock sat down forlornly at lunch.“I called,” he said simply. “She doesn’t want to speak to me. I don’t know if she meant just then or ever again. I really screwed up.”Sam was waiting for. I waited outside one of the shops while she bought something and changed in their dressing room. She came out carrying a bag with her wet clothes and dressed in a fairly tight white T-shirt and a little khaki skirt with the park’s logo on it. As she walked toward me, her jiggling tits and pointy nipples told me that she was not wearing a bra. As I stared at them and smiled, she explained that her bra and panties were soaked so she had to put them in the bag with her other clothes. I said “so. More

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