I closed them too, not wanting to get into the technicalities of what this weird system had to offer.I stood on the edge of the cliff, thinking about ...hat I had just done. I had just murdered a person and to my utter surprise, I found myself feeling no remorse. There was no self-justification on my part, trying to prove that I was innocent. I knew I wasn’t. The thought never crossed my mind. Instead, the most prevalent emotion I was feeling was acceptance. Acceptance about what I had done. And. My son was getting a hard on. I really didn't think about giving him a hard on by sitting on his lap. I could feel it still growing. "My god," I thought to myself. "How big is it going to get." I wondered what he was thinking. Does he think I can't feel it between the crack of my ass? I looked down at my legs. My dress had rose up a little more. I could almost see my panties. My son's hands was on the seat on each side of me. I wondered if he could see how high my dress had ridden up. I. More

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