She didn't want Professor Wells to think that she was a complete fool, but the room was still spinning, and she still felt possessed by this unearthly...warmth."Tell me, Henry," she began, her voice slightly slurred by the vodka, "what it was you wanted to talk to me about."As she spoke she tried to sit up again. The movement brought her soft tit into contact with Henry's fingertips. He made no attempt to get out of the way. She was vaguely aware of his fingers touching her tits through the light. However, they weren’t our father. We all had a different father. My mother didn’t marry any of the men who made her pregnant. In fact, we never knew who our fathers were.Sometimes, when our mother had to work late, we’d stay at our grandmother’s. She didn’t approve of how our mother paid the bills. She wasn’t the nicest lady in the world; however, when we were there, I felt safe. I don't think my mother and her really got along.When I was eighteen, I came out of the shower and caught one of the. More

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