A few seconds and some mumbling later, Celeste replied to whatever Jerry told her, “Well, it’s a bit more than a double date, but it is a sort of ...group activity, if you will. Breakfast, if you will, and ... be very informal, please, with your attire. Trust me on that, please. You won’t regret it.”A few more seconds and some further conversation, and then, “Thank you, Jerry. Trust me on this one. You’re gonna owe me, babe. You just bring that cute little tush of yours over here and meet up with. She made use both a bowl of Pizza Pockets. We ate while watching the Ellen Degenerous Show, another routine of ours. Conveniently, the topic of masturbation was discussed lightly on the show. I used this to help break the ice. “Do you masturbate, Kyle?” she asked. “Tch, yeah, you know all teenage boys play with themselves.” I responded. “Do you?” “Yeah.” She answered. She blushed as she confessed. This was interesting to me because I was unsure of how often women played with themselves. “How. Their eyes locked, and in that moment the world seemed to dissolve around father and daughter. A mute message passed between them, a bond of love so powerful that it demanded immediate consummation in the strictest physical sense. It was a deeper love, a greater love than that between a man and a woman, because it also contained the highest essence of spiritual and paternal love, and both Davie and her father realized it in that moment; realized that they belonged to each other in every. It wasn't going to be the same, one way or another, I imagined. “You remember the time all three of us, dad, you and I, were out hiking, the summer I turned eighteen? We came upon that isolated fishing cabin on that little lake?”“Sure, it was damn hot that summer.”“So we decided to go swimming, but of course we were in the middle of the woods, away from camp and didn't have our suits with us.”“You and your dad decided to go shinny-dipping. Nobody was around, the owners were not home. It was.