Uncle James on the other hand, kept up a steady conversation, exclaiming his pleasure and directing her, “Suck the end ... cup my sack ... stroke me.....” Even as my boobies stiffened and my quim moistened at the thought, my eyes welled up for no reason at all. Somehow, I had come to think that we had developed a special relationship, and that I was becoming more to him than a distant cousin. That I had no logical basis for such a belief made but little impression on my emotions, and I had to. What the hell was I doing here? I don't even know this guy. Yes he saved me and I should at least buy him lunch as a thank you... but why was I sharing so much. James sat and listened as I poured out everything about Peter and I. I didn't hold anything back and even talked about our sex life. I talked about his parents, my parents, living with him... everything. By the time I got to the part where James met me we were each on our third drink. He nodded and said “Simple... my opinion is he did. More

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