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He’d been dark and quiet as they’d driven from the ferry to the manoir. The rain was apocalyptic and the traffic ridiculous. Even when the rain abated and they lost the impatient queues, his mood had become a habit that was hard to break. She said nothing, just gently, let her hand rest on his knee as he drove fast and masterfully along the Napoleonic avenues. Millimetre by millimetre, her finger tips started to dance towards his crotch.. A butterfly touch, between irritating and arousal. He told her he was driving. She told him she didn’t care. He said he had to concentrate. She said that so did she. They drove in silence up the dusty track to the end of the lane, where the amber wooded manoir appeared. by this time his cock was bursting through his jeans, straining for her fingers, in spite. The walked together to the door, it was opened by the key holder. They went in and as the old woman began to point out the features of the house, she went behind her, bent over to get. I walked up almost within arm’s length before speaking. “I thought it was dangerous to sit or lie on a lab table, Dad—something about acid on the surface. Good to see you’re following good safe lab procedure. Don’t ever speak to me again. You’re dead as far as I’m concerned.” I turned on my heels and left, but not before seeing that he never missed a beat.“I drove home in a fog and it’s a miracle that I didn’t kill someone on the way. Mom knew the instant I walked into the house from the expression on my face exactly what had happened. ‘Dear God,’ she told me. ‘You caught him, didn’t you?’ It turned out that she had caught him on three separate occasions. I thought that I loved my dad before that day. After, I couldn’t have hated him more. I’ve never spoken to him since…not even a single word. There wasn’t much he could have done about it. I was much bigger and stronger than he was. I was about a month from graduation so I left home in September and I’ve never gone.
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