I thought, ‘There’s that nice guy. Wonder if he’d do me.’” “You really thought that?” “I did. I was a slut.” I laughed aloud. “You...were never a slut.” “You just didn’t know. Anyway, you gave me the bourbon the day of the funeral.” “Before and after, if I recall.” “After. And, I thought, ‘Maybe he’s trying to get me drunk so I’ll fuck him.’ But, you weren’t. And then, when you said my name, it really became obvious you loved me.” “I don’t see how you could have determined that,” I argued. “I. Roger advanced to the basement stairway and descended stealthily, remaining outside the closed basement door. The groans were louder. He opened the door a crack.The moment he arrived was just that when Ellen and Harold were having their climax.Holy Jesus Christ! Naked and aroused Ellen with her buttocks humped lewdly over the arm of the couch, being speared by the lust- swollen cock of some boy much older than she was. Ah yes -- that was Harold Taylor, Louise's boy friend! And with his finger. More

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