’ So I stood there not saying a word. ‘Well?’ I realized she also wanted me to explain why her bra was in my drawer. ‘Why is it so damp Jerry?...�� ‘I was holding it … Mom.’ ‘I believe that Jerry, that you were holding it, as it would be so easy to wipe up the mess after you came into it … Right?’ Bob Dylan’s song, ‘My back pages.’ comes to mind as he speaks of crimson flames and I am telling you said flames were licking at my pride and my face was red. ‘Yes mom, you are right.’ ‘It did not come to. Burning red stripes ofpure pain. . . . Eden preferred the more intimate contact when draped over his knees, inhalinghis musky cologne and male scent while she clutched his strong thighs for support.How she adored the feel of his fingers and nails sensually skimming her flesh,and then mauling her bottom, alternating pleasure and pain, raising heat andcirculation and arousal to a fever pitch. She could almost feel his fingersdelving into her slippery slot. Would he order her to splay her ass. More

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