So on Monday I called upmy older brother, Brett. He's a real man's man. In fact, he's a bit of aslob. He loves his beer and his beer belly and he love... fucking cunt. Iexplained my dilemma making him swear he would not tell Justin I knew untilI could work out what to do. He swore he wouldn't tell a soul. He lived withhis surfer son, Jed who was 19 and exactly the style of teenager I'd hopedJustin would grow up to become, and his daughter, Wendy who was only 9. Hismiddle son, Alex, had died in a. Then, in a flurry of movement, her hands gripped the bottom of the T shirt and pulled it up. It got tangled in her head and hair, which gave me time to admire the tantalizing sight of two dark spots where there had been only white before. They seemed to match a triangle of darkness where her legs met her upper torso. Then all that thick dark hair was falling everywhere, covering, swishing, caressing her body. Her hands moved automatically and, with a toss of her head, her hair was flung to fall. More

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