”“Dad, we’ve already fucked. That’s done. Nowhere to go but forward,” she calmly said. “This really feels creepy and if you touch me I’l... probably scream.”“I understand,” I said nodding. She wrapped her blanket around herself a little more tightly. “So, we’re not the Waltons ... I really have nothing else to say, except please do not do this to me again.”“You’re not running screaming from the room, either,” I said, feeling equally odd. “Okay, fine. Stacy Childers, current settings.”Calmness. Flushing, she rose from the floor and went to the laundry, adding her rag to the basket of whites. “Did you want this done?” she asked, stepping out of the laundry and calling back towards Brian. When he did not answer, she walked back towards him, her heels a little wobbly on the carpet, and tried again. “Brian, laundry?”“Yes, yes, of course” she heard him call back, and she reversed course, going into his bedroom to collect any remaining items, and checking the bathroom for used washrags and. More

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