When I got to the kitchen Mom was there, as usual.“I have an egg casserole in the oven,” she said. Her back was to me. She was doing something on ...he counter.“Sounds good,” I said. It’s what you’re supposed to say in a situation like that. To be honest, it’s what I would have said anyway, if my mind wasn’t consumed by the fact that I had fucked my sister only a few hours before. “Where’s Hannah?” She usually got up before me.“She had a rough date last night,” said Mom.“I know,” I said. I had a. .. BOING. She was looking me right in the eye. I recognized that look, boy did I ever. This dame wasn't just after my signature on her book flyleaf, she wanted my signature on her bod.Fire engine-red hair and an out-of-fashion voluptuous, yes, zaftig build. Dangerous curves ahead. My type. Yes, definitely.So I signed her book. "To a very special reader, a reader I could relate to..." And I managed to slip one of my business cards between the pages, a card that unfortunately lacked the phone. More

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