I was happy that I'd remembered to ask Mr. Parsons if it was all right for me to do."I told my dad what you said." When she said that to me, my heart ...lmost stopped beating. I had to fight off the urge to look around me in panic. I never thought she'd tell either parent about anything like that."You're kidding?" About you not knowing anything about the business. What did you think I meant? You didn't think I told him about that other thing. Oh my God, Kenny! If you knew my father, you'd know. And the woman obeyed. Naked and blindfolded she lay down on her back on the soft, thick carpet. The man got down on all fours, spread her legs wide, exposing her neatly trimmed, dark red pubes. Then he placed his unshaven face between her legs and gave her pussy a big, wet kiss. "Oh," the woman gasped. The man's hands gently stroked the inside of her thighs, getting ever closer to her pussy. The woman lay completely still, breathing faster and faster. Just as his hands were about to reach her. Then he kissed my neck and left to get our lunch. That made me feel very horny. While he was gone, I removed my pants. I hate wearing pants. I noticed that from Rob's kisses, that I was extremely wet. I anticipated his arrival. He brought us Mexican food for lunch. I made him remove his pants too, only to be fair. As we ate, he would gently rub my legs. From my toes to the top of my thighs, I could feel his strong older hands caressing me. The nerves were gone. He told me I was beautiful, I. Pretty name for a pretty girl. She was twenty-two and in college and she wrote poetry. When she first told me, I rolled my eyes. She had no fucking idea what poetry was. Probably wrote about unicorns and fairies and true love and all that shit. That was more like literary masturbation. It wasn’t real. What was real was writing about the fucked up shit, taking all that rage that builds up inside of you until you want to scream, and putting it onto words. That was beautiful. Not fucking sonnets.
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