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They both stood back then, looking at me, Di taking a picture with herphone which sent a surge of horror through me. They had unpleasantlooking smirks on their faces, Di obviously trying to supress a giggle.She turned to him, her smile, one shared with him alone, it was obviousthere was some electricity between them and to my surprise she kissedhim, there in front of me. It was a long and passionate kiss, that Ifound both embarrassing and yet a little arousing. Their clinch seemedto go on for minutes, their tongues entwining until finally they parted.Smiling at each other they both undid the straps holding my wrists,working as a team until I was finally pulled unceremoniously to my feet.I had no chance to look in a mirror, Di seemed in a sudden hurry andrushed me out of the door."Come on, Rachel, time to get home before mum is back." She said thename said with a caustic sarcasm further enforcing the humiliation sheknew she was deepening inside me.The journey back was swift, in part. "And if Irma isn't there, well, she just missed out on a good sale, that's all."Three blocks over, at the Thatcher residence, it did appear that no one was home, but that was only the way it appeared to anyone passing by. Upstairs in Irma's bedroom, young Richard glanced at the phone on the bedside table."It's stopped ringing," he said."Good," said Irma. "It couldn't have been anything important. Not as important as what we're doing now." Right . . ." said Richard, before he gave his mother a long sexy, tongue probing kiss."Ummm, darling, it feels so good when you have your hand there, and your finger . . . But I can think of something else that would feel even better in there."Irma Thatcher's words were a soft whisper in the ear of her eighteen-year-old son, as her legs spread apart so he would get the idea. While they lay side by side on her bed, both of them naked and with their arms about each other, his hand stroked up and down the soft inner-flesh of her thigh, getting her.
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