However, I never had an opportunity to enjoy the fifties because for the most part I was tied to a growing boy and kitchen stove. I was not much of a ...ocialite, seldom in a pub, and my few friends from schooldays had married and moved on.Was I sorry for myself? Yes, indeed, I probably was.Suddenly, I found myself in the swinging sixties living with a son who was now suffering from soaring testosterone and a fascination for any female with long legs and a miniskirt.When he reached the age of. ” Miranda felt wetness flow through her lips at his blunt words. “Yes.” She felt his breath on her neck. “Is that what you want little girl? You want to get fucked?” “Yes,” came out in a shaky whisper. Without a word the man took her by the elbow, led her through the crowd and into the men’s room. His body and mouth pressed into her, pushing her against the back of the bathroom door. Her leg came up and wrapped around his leg. His hand wrapped around her thigh lifting it higher. “You are a. More

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