“Do you want to stay in New Orleans?” he asks.“No.” That choice is easy. The city isn’t alive anymore. I don’t think she’s been alive fo... a very long time. Laissez les bons temps rouler is a state of mind, embodied by the New Orleans of the past, not of its present or of its future. She lives in my memories of beads and feathers, masks and Voodoo, mausoleums and the scent of a stormed tossed river. “No, I don’t want to stay,” I repeat.“Wise decision,” Lucian agrees. He tilts my face up and. I had gotten all hard and everything, and I tried to hide it from her but she grabbed my hands and pulled them away from my crotch. "So you are getting hard by sneaking peeks at Gramma?"She pulled me in even closer. So close in fact, that she had to hike up her skirt so I could stand there in between her spread knees. I was scared "Stiff" in more ways than one! I did not know what to say. Then she told me to stand still and not to move around. I was totally petrified as she unzipped my pants,. More

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