"I feel so... so betrayed." Oh, stop it already. Pick you up at seven?" Sure." We had reached my car, and she started walking toward hers. "Um, Claire... do you know where I live?"She stopped and turned around, a look of chagrin on her face. "Haven't a clue. I should really ask you while you're still here, shouldn't I?" Might help," I deadpanned."So, where did you want to go?" Claire asked as I slid into the passenger seat."You've been around Boston for a few years. You tell me." Any special. "Touched is all Jeremy, just played with, nothing more. You'll be the first up there," Greta murmured. Her finger knocked on the knot and it clenched and then opened, the daily enema routines having tutored her into unconsciously relaxing herself as soon as the tender spot was touched.Jeremy watched the tip of Greta's finger dip into the child's little anus and groaned with the memories that came flooding back; the times he'd been forced to watch, not touch himself, move or speak while his. More

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