It was my cab radio. I picked up my mike and replied, ‘1706’. ‘What’s your 1020?’ (Location) ‘I’m at the Biltmore.’ I replied. ‘...tay there 1706, we are sending a roadman to you. Do you copy?’ ‘I copy!’ I replied in a rather shaky voice. How did the dispatcher know I was going crazy? Maybe one of the drivers on the Biltmore called him. I just sat there for about twenty minutes, trying to adjust to a whole new reality of sights, sounds, smells and feelings. I was really starting to lose my. On our way home I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her sitting next to me, the seatbelt splitting her small breasts causing the cotton to press tight against her firm nipples and her shorts riding high exposing the tenderness of her inner thigh. I knew it was wrong but I just couldn’t quit, I was sexually attracted to the little girl I had raised. Although I was probably thinking with the wrong head I felt like she knew what she was doing to me but I had to be sure, I had to find out if I was. More

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