‘You’re just like your father, ‘ Coach had said. Was he just like his father? He’d just seen his father fucking Miss Conklin and Lisa Dutille....He was upset but wasn’t sure why. Why did it upset him that his father was doing exactly what he, Rick, was doing? And why was he angry at the Coach for saying he was exactly like his father? He pulled to the side of the road and stopped. He wasn’t sure where he was. He sat there, crying. After what he’d just seen, Rick was sure it was his father’s fault. After the dinner, she and Emma sat together on the sofa, their arms around each other, tenderly kissing each other’s face and breasts and talking intently. Charlotte allowed her hands to wander down to Emma’s crotch and was just about to start stimulating her clitoris in the way that Emma had always seemed to like, when Emma abruptly pushed her hand to one side. ‘Don’t forget Maisie!’ Emma remarked pointing out the girl who was busily discussing computer games and pop music with Josephine and. More

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