"Michelle was guided into the back seat by her sister. "Get us a drink, will you, Mike?" Melissa asked as she continued to comfort Melissa. "No troubl...," Mike said, dropping to his knees to open the small refrigerator. "What's your poison, Mom?" "Bourbon straight," she replied, wiping the dampness off her forehead. "Aunt Michelle?" "The same only if there is some ice, put in a couple of cubes." "Honey?" he asked his wife. "Nothing! I'm not feeling well," she said.When the two other limos were. What was I doing? I'd ask myself. Was I really trying to invite a woman, my husband's sister no less, over to my house in the hopes that she would eat my pussy? WAS I a lesbian? Was I?At night, after the children were in bed, but before David came home from the office I would lie naked upon my bed, my fingers rubbing through my wet pussy, pushing into my clit. Going through my mind on these occasions were not fantasies of Mel Gibson or Brad Pitt but of Charlie, of her rough fingers smearing. More

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