I had never met my mother due to an early separation. My father had remarried when I was three, with who quickly became a perfect stepmother, treating...me like her own child. I actually called her my mother, because she was always there in my oldest memories. When I was five, I had a half-sister. Early enough so that I would also consider her like a proper one.When were still young, our father's death was a painful event that marked us all and made us closer than ever before. Not that I hated my. I think she was a little bit drunk. I certainly was. I could feel heat radiating off her. We sipped our beers at the bar, Andrea searching my face with that slightly mocking grin. About halfway through, she leaned forwards and put her lips to my ear. I felt her hot breath as she whispered, "Coming then?" then licked my earlobe wetly.My hand shook and most of my beer spilled. She laughed, downed the remainder of hers, took my hand and led me out of the bar."If you come inside I'm going to cane. More

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