”“What am I supposed to do?” I asked my mother, who shrugged.“Be normal, let her have some space but chat if she wants to. She confides in you... Remember how you helped her with that computer programme, when she had stumbled on that naughty web site and asked you get rid of it before he found out.”“Yeah OK, it wasn’t bad anyway,” I muttered. “I understand but I need a piss.”“Good lad. Take it easy. We’ll sort out the detail with the girls and your things tomorrow. I’ve got to have a piss as well. Slowly he moved his hand up to her ankle. He began a slow obvious massage.“Sometimes we take our feet for granted,” he said, as he looked up at her.Was that a small twinkle of desire she saw in his eyes? Now this could be interesting, she thought. She wiggled her toes.“Oh my, that feels wonderful. Is this part of the shoe sizing, that lovely massage?”He smiled. “I find that most of us disrespect our feet. We also neglect them, and discount them as an erogenous zone.”His remark caused a definite. More

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