He was happy about it too. When we got to his house I already knew his dad wouldn't be home, and his mom had ran off. It wasn't hard to figure out why...he was so fucked up in the mind, but it was one of the things I loved about him. I went straight to his couch and turned on the TV for no reason, because as soon as he sat down it was obvious we would not be watching TV. He grabbed my face, and we made out like the fucking world was ending. I was sitting on him with my legs spread to either side,. I was desperate and in heat and so I growled, turning sharply away in anguish. "Every word of what your father told you about me is undoubtedly false," I averred. "It's not true. I repeat again that I'm not proud of what I've done." Then tell me, monsieur. Put me right. Tell me about the lake and about Isabelle. Tell me your side of the story."So I told her.I told her about the woman who'd stayed overnight at the tumbledown convent a short distance from the village. I told her about how she'd. More

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