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“Honey, I'm always here for you,” she said. “I'm always pulling for you. I want the best for you.”He nodded. “Mom, you know I'll always love you, love you as Mom, but these feelings, these other feelings, they're not gonna go away.”"I know, and I'm sorry, so sorry. I shouldn't have put you in this position." Tears filled his mother's eyes. "I was pretending, pretending everything could stay the same, just like I did last time, but everything changed when I married your father." She squeezed his neck and pressed her forehead against his.Evan brushed a tear from her cheek. "Why, why did you marry him?" Honey, I didn't know what else to do. I was confused, scared and mixed up. I was just a girl, and I didn't know how else to keep you and Deana and take care of my baby. I'm sorry."Evan wrapped his arms around Candy. His love and anger crushed the air out of her. He stepped up, lifting Candy. Her feet dangled. The act of carrying her sparked an old memory, but it was like a flickering TV. Nothing could give her the kind of orgasm she was looking for, she was just so hungry for his body, to feel his wet kisses on the inside of her leg, to feel his breath on her clit, to feel his tongue inside her. She absently stuck her hand in her pants as she thought about it. Mmm yes, she would have him eat her out, nice and slow, and then she would let him fuck her. Hard. As hard as he could go and then some. She craved the feel of him going in and out, the feel of his balls on her ass as he pounded her, his hands on her perky nipples, flicking them, twisting them gently. Belle continued to think about this, she reached for her vibrator, turning it on and resting against her clit. She started to moan softly, started to move her vibrator around her clit, stimulating it. She raised her shirt with her free hand and started to play with her nipples, rolling them in her fingers to get them erect. She put her fingers in her mouth then went back to her nipple, swirling her wet finger.
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The Greyhound agent was no help. Coaches went north to the Alice and south to Adelaide. The washing machines were no worse than they’d been three weeks earlier. Sam stopped at the Tourist Information Centre and learned that on Monday he could ride the Mail Run to William Creek.“Where are you stayin’?”“Radeka.”“Pete c’n pick you up between 8:30 and nine.”“I only want one way.”“I only sell the ‘tour’.”“Oh.”“Name?”Sam had decided not to use Hollister, lest the drug gang had picked up on it. “Sam Bunjil.”“Right.” Sam paid. He’d fill in his time over the weekend.“Is there a bookstore?”“Underground Books. But they went outta business. You might try the ADRA.”“ADRA?” [The Adventist Development and Relief Agency International is a humanitarian agency operated by the Seventh-day Adventist Church.]“Thrift store. Bit past the Caltex.”“Thanks.”The thrift shop had several bookcases full of hard and soft covers, mostly old family Bibles and thrillers. It looked like lots of old Stephen King and Lee.

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