I wasn’t really drunk, but I could see why they thought so. To them I was an eighteen year old who’d skipped school and gotten drunk. To me I was ... man older than they were who was getting a chance to see his parents alive and healthy, something that hadn’t been true for years. ‘Where is my car?’ my father asked. I frowned for a moment and then pointed vaguely in one direction. I was pretty sure the senior parking lot was that way and I assumed that’s where I parked. As it turns out, pop’s car. A far cry from the way she had looked in our Paris hotelroom late yesterday afternoon. After a day of watchinglovers clinging together, smooching in the variousparks, we arrived back, sweaty and horny, and she had inseconds pulled the same outfit she was wearing now overher head, placed it carefully on a chair, followed byher bra and panties, and then jumped back onto the bed,spreading her legs wide, naked but for those boots, andwithout saying a word, gave me a smile that had littleinnocence. More

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