We decided to eat at the Island and not bother about setting the main table so Dad stayed where he was with Mum and I sitting opposite him out in the ...itchen. It was a cosy way to dine, we finished the rest of the bottle of wine and started in on another, and I was feeling quite mellow and reckless when I placed my hand on Mum's thigh. Dad could not see my action from where he was seated and I knew it would look as if I was just sitting with my hand on my lap. Poor Mum didn't know what to do,. All I can do is stare out of the window, dreading what he will do next. The silence is broken only by the sound of his hand rubbing up and down his penis and the wetness of his foreskin pulling back and forth over the bulge of his lubricated, red head. My brain finally begins to function. What should I do? Sit and ignore him? Make a run for it? Scream? To my relief, I hear the sound of an engine, and the college bus appears down the lane. He, too, hears it and, as I turn round, I see him. More

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