My father had taken a one week trip to go visit my Mum’s parents up North, so that left my Grand dad, Ken, who lived with us, since Mum had run off ...ith a piss artist as Dad called him, in charge of the house, more like the garden, he loved growing and nurturing his tomatoes.Kim and I were both 15. Her and I were labouring away at our project, when my Grandfather had emerged from the downstairs bathroom having taken a shower. He still looked damp and was carrying a towel poking at his ears,. The room went silent.“You were right.” I kissed her, long hard, and deep. The kiss of ownership.I pulled back, she was wide-eyed, panting, the proud goddess of war now paralyzed by a desire that shatters her battle frenzy, her personal boundaries, her sense, her reason, and her shame.I pulled her head back, kissed and licked my way up her neck to her ear, bit her ear ungently, and growled, “And you are MINE!”I stepped back and tugged her hair once downward as I held out my shoe. Without a. More

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