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The water dripped from them puddling the rock at their feet. Their previous display of nakedness had been at night. This seemed so bold in the revealing light of day.'Thanks for the dinner," Brittany said with a huge smile. "Sorry about my sister." You know that Kimberly ate that food too," Jennifer told me indignantly. "And she didn't have to take her clothes off!" Give me a kiss, girls," I interrupted their awkwardly nervous chatter.Jennifer smiled, immediately bent forward and gave me a sweet kiss on my lips. When she started to sit back I said, "Jennifer, a slave girl should always kiss her Master as a lover."She was poised on her hands above me looking down into my eyes. She blinked, parted and wet her lips then leaned forward placing her hands for support on both sides of my face. She kissed as a passionately as a mature woman. After a moment I brought my hand up to her chin and broke the kiss. She modestly sank back away from me as if embarrassed by her bold. I figured they weren’t close or that it had been a painful parting in some way. My mom didn’t have any family that I knew of, at least that she was close to, so I didn’t know much about her family either. What I did learn was that my father had been born and raised in Fontana , a city in Southern California , and went to college at USC and law school at Stanford. After he finished law school he came east to work in Hartford , Connecticut at a major law firm that had recruited him. He told me he met my mother Cecile there. She had grown up in Springfield , Massachusetts . They were married after a brief courtship. When I was ten everything tragically changed. My mother was killed in a car accident on the way to meet my father at the train station across town. For the next three years, my dad struggled valiantly trying to keep up the house, managing to raise me through my struggle with puberty and keeping his ever more successful law career in some kind of perspective. I didn’t.
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