It looked as though I was going to have to fuck my daughter, and then watch him do the same. My heart was racing, and my respiration was heavy. But no... in anxiety, nor in fear, nor in grief.No, the source of my adrenaline was even more primitive. It was lust. Whatever admittedly mixed emotions I had felt when I had first awakened my daughter, the sight of her nubile nudity had ensured that only one emotion remained: sexual urgency. I knew I should be hating myself, but instead I was impatiently. Professionality, you know.”“Gosh, I’m ever so proud. How did the Q and A go?”“Swimmingly.” Then — Tell The Truth being the personal Birdie Motto — I added, “I let Ms. Sloane handle that part. She’s young and needed the experience.”Trish glanced at me, but just nodded.Froggy said, “When,” and Trish bent down, took him in her mouth. That paused our chinwag for a mo. or two.It was another one of Trish’s Rules — say “When” when it’s time, and she’ll mouth-accommodate you. Not that Froggy and I have. More

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