‘I don’t want to go home,’ she protested as we walked to my car. ‘Ok, where do yo want to go?’ I asked as I helped her in, getting a nice v...ew of her legs as she sank into the car. It was a beautiful summer evening, so I put the top down as I started up the engine. ‘Do you still have some of that good Rum?’ she asked. ‘Yes, I do,’ I told her. ‘You’re kinda buzzed now, though. You sure you wanna have another one?’ ‘Yeah,’ she sighed. ‘Let’s go to your house, we can have one more, and we can. I love it when mum and I do things like this.When my father got home we were eating dinner and my mum mentioned my score in my maths test. There was silence, and this is never a good thing. My father finished his dinner and then told me to get onto the footstool. I gasped as this was usually when I been really naughty and bad. He got on the phone and called my grandpa and uncle to come round as I needed some discipline. They only lived next door so within seconds the door was pushed open. . I knew she was still harboring some romantic notion of working as a plainclothes detective with her own car to drive and I wanted to discourage her ambition but I didn’t have the guts to destroy her dream of excitement and glory.Right at the moment, she was on top which was her favorite position and she was riding me hard like I was in the Kentucky Derby and she was my jockey determined to cross the finish line first. I was just getting ready to beg for mercy when she stiffened up and shouted. She felt very nervous and knelt down. Opening the side cabinet, she reached in and pulled out a half-empty bottle of vodka. Taking it to the kitchen, she poured herself a small glass of Dutch courage, trying to calm her nerves. She coughed as she downed the harsh liquor and debated a second when she heard the doorbell ring. Turning, she stared into the living room, then opened the pantry and hid the bottle.Wiping sweaty palms on the seat of her slacks, she walked slowly to the front door and.
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