“What a slut, baby! What a whore you are, little one!” he murmured. They had just arrived at her room’s door, when the sound of a familiar voic... stopped them.“Hey!!. . . Where are you going? Are you okay, mom?” It was Scott.Evidently, he had just come back. When he left the house, a couple of hours ago, his mother was still in bed and now he was looking for her. “Scoooott!!!” called out Carol. “I love you, dear!” and her expression didn’t show any kind of embarassment, in front of her son, as. I think she knew just how tense I was, because she brightly said, "No, that won't be necessary. I do hope you call, though." "Oh, I'll call," I assured her.Walking to my car, I remember thinking that if I had another leg, I would have kicked myself. Today, I'm not sure if that kick would have been for leaving without engaging her in a conversation, or at my forwardness in asking for her number. I did call her, and to my delight, she was as captivating in conversation as she was in the flesh. We. More

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