“Oh fuck,” she whispers. What the hell am I doing? She crawls out of the bed and practically runs to the bathroom, down the hall. Once in, she loc...s the door and splashes her face with cold water. She looks at herself in the mirror. Her long pink colored hair frames her face. Her Jersey knit chemise clings tightly to her breasts, turning see through where the water from her face drips down.Candace stares deep into the eyes reflecting back at her. “He’s your father. What are you doing?” It has. My father was a real arsehole and died when I was in my mid-twenties. After his death, I knew that it was my duty to look after mom for the rest of her life and that all my trysts always had to take place outside of our home. These assignations, however, practically ground to a halt long before my mother passed away.Nowadays, I am always the odd man out with all my friends, as all of them are involved in relationships. I still have dinner with a few of them from time to time, but at the end of. More

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