Once a week, Mark would take me to dinner, and I would stay over at his place. Carol continued with her Monday afternoon visits with Mark, and all was... well with our family.Roger seemed content to rotate sleeping partners with Bobby. As long as Carol allowed him access to me, he was willing to let her have unlimited sex with her son and Mark. One week Roger slept four days in a row with me, and Carol slept with Bobby. I know Roger was turned on listening to Carol and Bobby have sex, but he never. Inside, I think I hear a low and tremulous moan. Looking around, I wonder if anyone else heard her. There's an awkward silence for a moment, some throat clearing, then we all chuckle. "Fangirls," I want to say, but keep my mouth shut. The polite fiction is that Ruth is inside the bathroom freshening up and composing herself. I know the truth, and suspect I might not be alone in that knowledge.The moment has passed and the assemblage begins to say their goodbyes, as they have others to meet. On my side, I had an easy time responding to your demand for poetry by searching for and then cutting and pasting back to you nicely paced deliveries of rhymes from the lines from songs found on the internet as a sort of reconstruction of what might have been a poem ignited by the passions of our messaging. Even when you caught on to my plaigerism, you were so kind as to reward me for sharing a love for your favorite songs! Exchanging messages with you scripting our future love making was the. The kitchen floor was black and red veined marble that matched the counter tops and center island, setting off the pale wood cabinets. I loved this kitchen, which was almost as big as the ground floor of my house. It had two, six-burner stoves, one on each side of the room, three huge ovens, two microwaves, a refrigerator that could eat two of mine, plus a separate freezer, a walk-in pantry the size of my spare bedroom and the industrial dishwasher. I wasn't even going there on the counter or.