”“And you flew out when Brad didn’t show?”“No, I didn’t know anything about him even being missing. I was on location shooting a film for the Gold Studios, remember?”I nodded, remembering. She had told me that part of the story at the outset.“Whenever I’m in Hollywood, I always go see Brad’s father, Alfred, and his wife Caroline, as soon as I arrive. Bernie Cave would be there naturally, always with his devoted wife Connie while she was alive. They’ve always been good to me and my father in law. She responded well.She began to return the sentiments. Kissing me, touching me, playing with me through my boxer briefs. I slide her pajama pants down and begin fondling her through her pink lace panties. She inserts her hand, jacking me under the fabric. I slide them off. I slide her panties down. I run my fingers through her course black bush, making my way down. I rub her, get her going before I insert her anything. Our bodies move closer. I move my hand around her, inserting a finger. But was it rape, to clean someone's wounds?Was it assault, to comfort someone who had sought sanctuary with you? I loved her body. She had been whipped, and burnt here and there, and punchedand kicked so that bruises swelled on her right thigh, and her ribs, and herleft upper arm. I disliked the bruises but I loved the burns, and the weltsof the whip. I traced the lines of them across her buttocks, and upper back,and the insides of her thighs, as I washed her with my clean white rag. Myfingers. On one occasion a combination of a couple of glasses of Gin and bitter lemon and my massage she dropped off, for some reason she was not wearing a bra under her blouse and I got my first close up view of her dark nipples.Of course I got an immediate erection and my brain thought it would be a good idea to see if I could touch them, I slowly slid my hand gently under her blouse so my fingertips brushed the nipple. I was frightened what would happen if mum woke up, what would I say, of course.
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