That was how his father found me each morning as he sat on the edge of the bed while we chatted about this and that.Chapter 2Was I looking at him in a...sexual way? How could I not? He was a handsome man, yes, near forty but these days, that's hardly old. I only kept the sheet over my lower half, I know he was looking at my boobs each morning in the tight tee shirt which showed the imprint of my excited nipples. I rather enjoyed the attention I knew I was causing.As I sipped my coffee, I often. She helped him sit up. They embraced each other for the longest time and didn't speak; just holding one another. She kissed him softly and they both started crying. She took a look at the gash on the side of his head. It wasn't as bad as she had first thought. But it did need looking after."Christy, I'm so sorry about what that fucker did to you!" he said angrily. "I could kill the bastard! I should've done more to try and help, but the bastard had me locked up tight! I was helpless!" I know. More

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