Isn’t that what teenage boys call it? Whacking off?” she grinned at him mischievously.“Now that you’ve seen mine I think you should show me yo...rs,” his mother leaned in and nipped his ear.Paul began to shake when his mother began to unzip his fly. He could hear vague murmuring coming from upstairs but Paul was oblivious to everything except his mother.“You’ve seen it before. You used to wash it when I was younger. I can still remember it,” Paul sighed.“But I stopped when you were no longer a. Even Mike was not immune. The desk in their bedroom, the one where the home computer sat, was rescued drawerless from a trash pile on Point Drive. With a coat of paint, and some drawers made from wooden boxes found in another trash pile, it had served Mike for several years. It was earmarked to go into the place in the basement he had reserved for his den/office at the new house.The only problem was that it was too nice a day to want to spend it screwing around in the attic. He and Kirsten had. More

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