As she nears the end of its 8-inch length, the stretched skin pulls the head flatter, a red bumbershoot mottled with purple. She pushes down and sque...zes, the urge of release rears momentarily in my sack and then subsides. Will she? I ask without muttering a word, as she slides to her knees. The answer is quick. My waist unbuttoned, she pulls my trousers, then black cotton briefs to my knees. The rest eventually becomes a blur as I watch that Army helmet swallowed again and again, devoured. "It's all right. We played on the equipment," Faye replied."So, how did you like it? Would you like to continue?" my grandma asked,getting straight to the point, not wasting any time. This was the milliondollar question."Yeah, it was great fun," she replied smiling, bouncing on the balls ofher feet. April was nodding, sharing her cheerfulness. Seeing this, Icouldn't help but smile myself."I'm glad to hear that," my grandma replied turning her head to face me,smiling as well. "Well, I'll talk to. I assumed they slept in separate bedrooms; the Rectory had at least six, as it had been built some fifty years previously when the then incumbent had ten children living in the house. I imagined George, creeping down the hallway to indulge in conjugal connection with the shy, timid wife; or did she tiptoe along to red faced George's room, and then mount and gallop him, like he galloped his hunter with the Pewsey Hunt? Both vignettes seemed to be equally preposterous, given the nature of the two. I wanted to go to today's time trials, Mom didn't want me to, because, well, just because. She came up with one lame reason after another. It was like I was facing one of those machines that fires tennis balls. I was swatting those excuses back over the net as fast as they came at me.Not being the biological parent, Elaine was a spectator, her eyes flicking back and forth between me and Mom like she really was watching a tennis match. She sat there, uncomfortable, finishing off her bacon,.
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