The three of us walked down to the first floor and then the lady got in her car and drove away. I was worried and troubled about Bradleys’ confessio.... What the hell could it be I wondered? When we sat down in the rocking chairs an old women came on the porch, “Hello Mr. Bradley. Here are your drinks and hello Mr. Clark, welcome home.” Home? What the hell is this old crazy lady talking about? “Honey here have a drink,” he said as he handed me Vodka on the ice. “I make an offer on this place. I didn't like to see her without full face makeup, eyeshadow, a little rouge for outlining her cheekbones. Lipstick. Once in a while I'd catch her in the washroom still getting ready. With a chin resting on her shoulder I'd run my hands down her body. Sometimes I'd just go up and down her flanks, never touching a tit or her puss. The two of us could watch ourselves in the mirror. Other times cupping her boobs, I'd comment on her nipple color, "Wonder how tattoos would work, save you all that. More

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