She'd exchange pleasantries and talk in general terms about the past, but in the end she'd hugged me goodbye as though my body were wrapped in electri... barbed wire. She'd leave without even a hint of a look back.Besides, there's an unpleasant term for men who do what I've just done. It's called stalking. Most women don't seem to find this sort of attention appealing.During my drive I must have thought of a hundred reasons why this trip was a really stupid and bad idea. Many of the reasons were. I looked at him confused, 'Swingers' to me, were something to do with music and dancing. Dad explained what it really meant, and by the time he had finished, I realized my mother was a border-line nymphomaniac, perhaps helping to explain my own unnatural urges, which at that very moment, were focused on my fathers taut stomach muscles, and what my eyes could not see, directly under the waist towelling, right now I wanted to see and feel my fathers cock, that's why I got up and went over t him. More

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