Lucinda had really turned him on last night and that was the whole problem. She had a very high chance of actually being his mother. He'd heard so man... stories of boys falling in love with their mothers but never thought he would be going through that. The thing was she didn't feel like a mother to him. She felt like a woman that he wanted. He wanted to see Lucinda that night but he was afraid. He was afraid that he'd want her more or that she'd seduce him and he wouldn't have enough strength. Kasey turned back. "I heard you and Jenny talking before the show. I'd like to help, if you'll let me. If not, I can butt out and we'll find something else to talk about."Kasey was silent for a moment. Then she sighed. "I miss my Mom. I could talk about stuff like this with her and not feel like an idiot." I know I'm not your mom, Kasey, but you can talk to me about anything. I've been there, too. I'm sure Don's a good listener and so are Jenny and Leslie. If you don't want to talk to me, talk. On the low setting everything felt great (masochist great, thatis), but as the intensity increased more and more, I was reduces towailing rubber doll, pawing uselessly with its balled hands at itsthick shiny latex skin.Their next game was called "hound dog" - they tied my ankles to mythighs and my balled wrists to my arms just below the armpits, makingin into a bizarre latex quadruped, and ordered me to crawl through amoving van looking for a dick to suck or a pussy to lick. Spurred bythe. She did her best by him.Her name was Mary Lewis. She taught Sachar to read by the time he was only 26 months old. It was so funny to everyone else that she refused to read him bedtime stories when he was three. Mary made Sachar read them to her. She was trying to make him successful.And, Sachar was successful. He had gone to Coppin State and then earned a Master’s from Stanford. He now taught social sciences at a large community college in Illinois, just outside of Chicago,Sachar had once been.
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