He met a graphic artist at the company—a big, beautiful, blonde Swedish girl who became my grandmother. Their daughter, Ilsa, was a rebellious child...of the late sixties. She protested and marched, and was even found chained to a tree in a national forest where they were going to log. That’s where she met Stew, my father. He’s a short dark half-Cherokee. A few years later, I came along and turned out short like my father, but blonde like my mother. I was obsessed with printing from the first. Katherine snuck back to her room very satisfied. Her thighs dripped with cum. She'd loved merely sleeping with her brother almost as much as fucking him, and eagerly hoped it would happen again, and not just for part of the night.Alan, though, was exhausted. He changed his sheets to avoid getting caught when his mother did laundry later, and then reset his alarm clock and went back to sleep. He figured he'd wake up a little later than usual and rush through his morning routine.Chapter 2The next. More

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