But I stopped at the door and looked back at her, lying there looking sad. "Mom, those girls? They aren't as pretty as you." I pulled the door shut, a... she started crying again.TwoFrom then on she was almost always careful with me. She was always covered, and never let me look at her when she was in bed. But I could still stare at the pictures of her when she was younger, in the lingerie. I would go down to the living room, when I got tired of the Playboy magazines, and get the best one, her on. "Just get on with it already, she thought. "Thanks." She let her handsfollow the firm, tight flesh covering his ribcage. They traveled to hiswaist. She brought them up and around, to cup his buttocks. She gave thecompact globes a soft squeeze. "You're pretty gorgeous yourself."He blushed. "I look like a Cro-Magnon."Or a Neanderthal, Diane thought. "Nonsense. You're sexy as hell." Am I?"He seemed to want--to need--reassurance. What the hell kind of game washe playing? Diane wondered. None of the. More

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