The other day when I was talking to her, just before ten AM, I could smell whiskey on her breath. She had a robe on. She did not notice that it was part way open. I could see most of her tits. Her husband, Mr. Bowerman, is the regional manager for an insurance company. He is away every other week. That is why they have me take care of the yard, as well as clean their pool. With my driver's license, I can offer to take her shopping, or wherever she needs to go." "What the hell are you talking about? Why doesn't she drive herself?" "I used to ask myself the same thing, until Mom and Dad mentioned it the other night. Mom, said to Dad, "Her drinking explains why she does not drive her car anymore. more ...
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He knows I'm smart enough to keep my head, and hold tight to my self-respect. But I wonder if he knows how devoted I am to him, how he's become the standard that every boy or man I meet must measure up to, or how many have already failed. "Ready to go, Pet?" he asks, winking. I nod and follow him out the door. It has started to snow, those dazzlingly large snowflakes that build up quickly covering everything with a clean layer of fluff. I wonder how much will accumulate and think fondly of snuggling inside for the whole weekend, wrapped in quilts and each others' arms and legs. Two more hours till we're home. I can't wait to get there. more ...