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When I returned with the beer Francis fumbled with the remote control. He said he was just checking on the wrestling, that he wanted to watch the movie, but there was an unhappy whine to his voice. " I kissed the top of his head, "No dear, I'm fine." The light in the upstairs hallway was off, the light in my son's room off.

We both knew what he wanted, we both knew he wanted me to know what he wanted, he wanted to watch wrestling. I flipped my bedroom light on, closed the door, ducked into the bathroom.

" "I don't know, this was the first time he mentioned it." I glanced over my daughter's shoulder, covered by the light brown hair that reached the middle of her back, to my son's second floor window. It wasn't like he was avoiding his sister, the two of them had always gotten along. I kissed Pam good night, watched her drive away, entered the house. Big match coming up." As I followed his gesture I saw something rarely seen, my son's cell phone not in the possession of my son. From the bathroom the answer was clear and disturbing, my son was a peeping-tom. I wondered what Milla, Williams's mother and my friend, would do if she knew her son was screwing some woman in the house. It was in the driveway, she must be out with friends. And while I'm not advocating for peeping-toms, I understood the allure. William crawled forward and slid an arm around the woman, held her to him. On the rare occasions we still did it, my husband was far more interested in returning to the television or checking his tablet then holding his wife. I was about to back out of the room, I really was, when the woman moved; she was getting out of bed. Her body was firm and nice, but not that of a teenager. She stood, grabbed a light robe from atop a chair, slipped it on, then turned towards the window. The cell phone in my hand, which I'd all but forgotten, rang.

But maybe I should watch, even Todd turned him down." "Yeah, what's up with my baby brother? What's this big school assignment he has to turn in tomorrow? Maybe he'd fallen asleep, but if he was sleepy he'd have said so. Even with their and my window closed it felt like I could hear their screams as their sweat soaked bodies shook, fell forward, slumped onto the bed.

* * * * * Over the last year my friendship with Milla had deteriorated, her endless complaining about William growing repetitive and wearying.Now our friendship was reborn; Milla was upbeat, optimistic, energetic, joyful, and vibrant.The primary source of her misery had not only morphed into a source of support, but was satiating her most fundamental need." * * * * * Sitting in Milla's back yard I looked over her shoulder. Had my son stood also there and spied on our neighbors? " I said, "Yes, please." At 39 Milla was two years older than me and taller, maybe five foot nine inches to my five foot three, with striking long legs.Otherwise we had similar builds: slender with slim shoulders and hips, flat stomachs, small breasts and butt cheeks. I've lost a few pounds; I feel stronger." "It's working.

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