My dad was dead. My mom shot him. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to say. I opened my mouth, worked my jaw, but nothing came out. What co...ld I say? What should I do? My dad was dead. The bastard was dead.A ragged sob came over the speakers of my Mustang, my phone synced up to the car stereo via bluetooth. "Mark, I don't know what to do," sobbed my mom over the phone. There was a muffled banging and shouts in the background. "The police are here, Mark. I ... I got to." Wait, mom!" I. ’ You stand between my legs. I run my hands up the outside of your legs, slowly from your knees, up, up, slowly, then under your skirt to your hips. My hands slowly move backwards over your ass. You suck in your breath at the intimacy of this act. I feel your ass then pull you to me. With my head resting on your belly, I run my hands down the back of your legs. I lean back and now run my hand up the inside of your leg. As I reach the tops of your stockings you shutter. I reach the bottoms of. More

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