I can at times hear them chatting and laughing; at other times, speaking ponderously about the nature of dominance and submission or making inane judg...ment calls on things that might define people into their neat, tidy compartments.At the top on the other side of this imagined abyss stand many men and women from The Roundabout Gang. None of their faces are really clear except for those of Julienne and her husband, Mike. In the past, whenever I saw them at the club, they always seemed to. His only other means of transportation was the old motorbike in the garage that had the sidecar attached to it like some World War II relic of a bygone era. He put the googles and the helmet on the girl and then pressed the button that raised the garage door.The light that streamed in strained his eyes at first and then he saw the two coppers standing right outside with a back-up of at least another half-dozen uniformed constables. The driveway was blocked by the two police vans and his route. We had driven from her parent’s home, just outside of Kansas City and were going to be gone a week, just Kristy and me. She was my, soon to be, 14 year-old grand daughter, so pure and innocent as we started our trip anyway, that she didn’t even realize that I had molested her. It wasn’t planned, but I guess, most molestations usually aren’t. It was that damn storm that frightened her into my bed, and the rest, as they say, is history. Now I had gone off the deep end and was under her sexual. ..if you want."I smiled, "Yeah! Of cour..."My reply was cut short when Heather held up the webcam. I hadn't seen it in her hands, of course, being distracted by her body in lingerie."You brought it in here?" I asked, obviously puzzled."I thought we'd make one...together." Uhhh. It was...fun...watching. I wasn't really planning on s..."Heather stopped me, anxiously, before I could drop the word "sex" in the room."No! No. Sorry. I just meant, we'd...make one...doing what we've been doing..