" He chuckled nervously, anxiously."She what?" Art's eyes widened, his lower jaw dropped to his chin. His cheeks flushed with anger. "You wouldn't be ...ulling my leg, now would you Bill?... This isn't a practical joke, is it?... A what?" Art pounded his forehead with his fist, his upper jaw worked against his lower one, and his face graduated from a deep red to a pale pink, and then snow white, and finally slate gray without ever once hitting its normal complexion. Arms swinging at his sides, he. He chose an evening to confront me when I had arranged to go to a girl’s house (not Pamela’s). Her parents were going out for the evening and this indicated that we could copulate in comfort instead of on the back seat of my rather small car – have you ever experienced the necessary athletic contortions needed to attain penetration on the back seat of a small car? Of all evenings my father had to choose that one for his paternal confrontation. ‘Now then Robin, it’s time…’ ‘Dad, I’ve got to go,. More

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