She was turning 40 and was mopey about it. She wandered around fairly early that Saturday, and moped. She had a cup of coffee and just looked her hou...e over. She called it always ‘the old girl’, and at times, when sadness was on her, she talked to the house. ‘What do you think, Old Girl?’ she said. ’40! Not the end of the world you say, at 125 yourself? Maybe not but it feels like the train is making its way out of the station.’ The house was an old brick Victorian, a style that Clara loved. I pulled out and then plunged back in separate motions. I gradually picked up speed as I got into the rapid pace that I liked. He was begining to respond. I knew exactly when I hit his prostate, because he moaned loudly; so I attacked it over and over. "Oh, man, what're you doin' to me, dad? Shit, yeah! It feels so good." He was now lifting his ass to meet my strokes and we were flowing together. I couldn't believe I was fucking my son. "You like this, Kevin?" "Oh yeah, this is the. More

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