Not everyone can say that,” said Curtiss, obviously proud of himself.“Well, your right about that,” said Grant.“What can I getcha?” said Cur...tiss.“Anything on tap. A tall one,” he said. Curtiss nodded and went to fill the order.“You married Lee Wyatt’s ex if I remember rightly,” said the talkative Curtiss, returning with the beer.“Yes,” said Grant. “Met him once, but that was a long time ago.”“Really? Just one time?” said Curtiss.“Yes,” he said. Curtiss let his knowing eyes float toward a table. Oh no he protested. He told me I knew he didn’t do that, reminded me of his limits. I asked him if I was his mistress. Asked him if he was truly my ass slut. Asked him who owned his ass. He told me I was, and with trembling lips opened his mouth. I moved away. I told him that was all I needed to hear. Just knowing that he would have done it was enough for me. I respected his limits, but wanted to remind him of his place at the same time. I kept the belt handy as I unbuckled the dildo and put it. I did not take any new pictures of her. That was far beyond our sex life, which consisted of my turning her sleeping body on its side in the mornings on those weekends she was home and sticking my cock in her unresponsive cunt for a few insipid minutes while I fantasized about someone else far away and long ago. I found myself thinking that perhaps this is all that most people ever get out of life. I realized that I was no longer a young man, yet I could not accept that this was all that was. .”“Did you...”“Did I what?” she retorted. She’s going to make me say it.“You know ... masturbate.”She looked almost guilty, nodding. “I dunno, Deena. There’s just something about your dad. He just seems so right to me.”“But y’all didn’t do anything until you were fourteen.”“No. Wanted to, though.”“Boys your age?”“Nope. None of ‘em even started making me think about it. Your dad was it for me.”I sighed. I agree with her about boys my age. I guess all little girls compare guys to their dad. My.