There was silence at first, then a sigh and a deep intake of breath.“Don’t know where to start,” he offered.“How about the beginning,” I off...red.He huffed loudly.“I went over to Mrs Robertsons and we had sex.”There it was, the confession, the older woman younger man conversation we had at dinner earlier in the week. I nodded knowingly and sympathetically; my tongue scraping against my teeth as I nodded.“Was this the first time?”Brad shook his head. “The first time was the sleepover night.”Yes,. She put her glass on the mantle-shelf, steadying herself, then turning to him and saying, “let`s get this straight, as your lover, your date, even your whore, I am not your Mum, you can call me Beryl, B, or just slut if you feel it appropriate, but never ever call me mum when we are together like this…OK?” he nodded his understanding, then stepping forward he kissed her, her lips tasting of the alcohol, but not hot or passionate, and she made no move to hug him and he knew instinctively of the. More

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