“For now, I’m glad you’re enjoying the day. We ought to think about something to eat. We could go into Keswick...”“Could we ride round the l...ke? Make sarnies back at ... at home?”Home? My van?I dare say you’re wondering what’s wrong with me. Some might understand reluctance to have sex with a young woman who admitted to a history of prostitution, but in all honesty that was only a part. I suppose some might wonder about said young woman seeking to live in a motorhome with a man she’d only met. “Mom, this was the third time! How can you keep 'forgetting'?” He stressed the last word to show his disbelief. “You can't expect to keep track of all your sexual dalliances, young man. I mean, who was this girl, anyway? Have I even met her, or is she just some floozy you picked up on the way home from college?” Madeline's eyes had drifted down to Gerald's crotch, where his erect cock was poking out a tent-like structure in the soft fabric of his sweatpants. “That was April, Mom. You met her. More

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