“Who is it, Dear?” asked Mrs. Carter, and her face appeared over his shoulder. “Oh, it’s you, Bobby.”“I was trying to divine his intention... toward my only daughter,” said Mr. Carter, still very serious.“Don’t harass the poor boy, Ed.” She looked at me. “Come in, Bobby. What’s up?”“I need to find out what color Val’s dress is,” I said. “The one she’s going to wear to the dance,” I added, just so there wasn’t any confusion.“I don’t think she knows, yet,” said Mrs. Carter. “She’s been trying on. She pulled back saying, “Seems like you’re getting a ‘little’ problem there!” “You have no idea. If it wasn’t enough what we’re doing now just grabbing that ass of yours would probably blow a hole in my pants.” “You like my ass?!” she says as she grinds it back into my hand. “You better believe I do. I’ll be honest with you since we’ve already gone further than I ever imagined. I used to check your ass out all the time to see if you were wearing a thong because I used to beat off in your thongs. He covered his upper eyes with one strip. The lower half of his eyes with the next pass. Then he tied it once, tightly, behind his head. His right hand, a fist, rose up and pounded on the door twice. A young woman, in a sing song tone, answered. ‘Hellloooo.’ ‘Hey. I need to talk to Mary.’ A chorus of hoots and hollers came from behind the door. The entire tribe of women mocking him. Adam only smiled and bowed his head, enduring. ‘You can’t see me! I’m in the dress.’ ‘I can’t see anything.. "Because... because you don't need it. You're a well adjusted teenager. That sort of thing is for troubled adults." Mom's probably right," chipped in Phillipe. "I probably have the best results with adults -- like Rachel Donovan... or... Mom!" Helen's and Glen's heads snapped to attention. "Mom's been wanting to talk with me anyway so why not make it beneficial to us both," smiled the younger brother.Now all eyes were on Helen who had been backed into a corner and knew it. "I... I... of course.
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