Not me, but Bec and Dad and sometimes Dan. They look at somebody and seem to just know they need help. Then they go up to whoever it is and they do th...is horse-whispering type of thing and soon enough they’re looking after the person and making them feel better. I don’t do it. I suck at doing stuff like that. Bec did it with that girl at the Y on Thanksgiving morning. She saw that girl come in the door of the Y and immediately started looking after her. By the end of the morning, Bec had pulled. And now none of that was going to be possible. Whatever had killed their ship, and hadn't quite killed them yet, had foreclosed all of those possibilities. Now that she was 'in command, ' as the senior surviving crew member, she couldn't approach her might-have-been lovers, even if she could bring herself to choose between them. Neither could she approach the only other surviving woman, who seemed to have assigned herself the role of ship's slut, boosting the morale of nearly a dozen of the. ” Phyllis Dangerfield called to her daughter.“What is it, mom? I was just getting some things together for the New Opportunity meeting tonight. They’re collecting old magazines for a fund-raiser.”“Well, what would they say about this?” Phyllis was holding up an empty bottle of vodka. “This was full last week, Fara. You know I don’t mind you having a drink. You’re eighteen, after all. But a whole bottle? In a week?”“But I didn’t, mom. I wouldn’t take it without asking. I don’t even like it that. I tease her by putting her proffered panties to my nose breathing them in, as she giggles nervously covering her mouth a little with her hands, and then she pulls me down on top of her, on the couch and breathes, ‘Make love to me Michael! Now … right here!’ I am so hard after being with my two sexy companions, and Amy is so wet that I just slide right in all the way, as she gasps loudly. After all of our active dancing and fooling around in the car, she smells like sex! My pants and briefs are.