"Good, cause I am really horny right now," he told me. His hand went for my boob and I grabbed it, stopping him."What are you doing?" I asked."Touchin... you. Why? Too far?" Uh, no, it's just...they're not like Emma's," I said. I didn't want him to be disappointed."I don't care, they're yours so of course I love them," he said.Reassured now, I smiled and put his hand on my tit. He started to fondle it and then he let out a sigh. "Mmm. Nice. Will you show them to me?"I nodded, slowly."Let's go to. These memories and flashbacks go through my upbringing, schooling, moving to Melbourne and ultimately to New South Wales where I met my husband in the army. This story is a combination of reflections and memoires over a 15 year period from 1968 to 1983. Unlike the great movie, Summer of ’42, this is the Summer of ’82. I can clearly recall the old farm that we lived on. The rent was free in exchange for the upkeep and minding of the place, which made it quite attractive for mum and dad. We had. More

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