Gimme the description of that Gardner kid again, willya?"A voice crackled back. "Fifteen. Brown hair, sort of tousled. Freckles. No glasses. Wearing a...Red Sox jacket."The cop eyed Richie for a moment. He clicked the mic. "Yeah, okay, got it. Thanks." He replaced the mic and stood. "Wanna try running your name by me again, kid?" I told you already, I'm Brad Weston."The office sighed. "Right. Well, see, some people think you're some kid named Richard Gardner. Like your mother, for instance. How. I remembered her shaking with emotion as I fed her those same yellow demons in her pretty mouth, her glorious hairy bush and straight up her delicious brown eye. I aroused the hidden devil in the girl and she never turned back from the fast lane to hell.We were both circumspect in keeping our parents oblivious to our extra-curricular activities and the pair of lovebirds were so caught up in their own frenzied love-making that our fornication exploitations slid right underneath their parental. More

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