With a smirk on the lips she exclaims, “we’ll get to that later.”“I actually arranged something, dinner wise.” “Oh really, and what would ...hat be?” “It’s a surprise, follow me.” We make our way back to my hotel. “This is not a surprise, this is your hotel. Look, I’m anxious to get to that part of the evening as well, but we need sustenance in order to fully…,” I stop her from talking by putting my index finger to her lips.“Trust me.” Agreeing, she follows me inside the hotel. I open the door to. It was nice not having prudish, straight-laced parents that tried to pretend they didn't have the same desires and urges that everyone else did. Especially when dad asked..."You still have those old high school batons of yours?" Yes, but why would you ask that?" Mom questioned."I was thinking ... perhaps we could wrap them with a bit of cloth, douse them in some lighter-fluid, and then you could give me a little performance," he snickered.Mom giggled, blushed, which I could see her doing there. More

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