Date: Tue, 24 Feb 2009 19:48:38 -0600
From: Amber Fountaine <amber_fountaine@hotmail.com>
Subject: Ledge Falls Park, Chap 3

Amber Fountaine stories contain sexually explicit descriptions of
consensual sexual activity and are not suitable for reading by anyone under
the age of 18, or anyone offended by reading such material. These acts
include gay and bisexual activity as well as any combination of piss play,
diapers, cross-dressing and other fetishes and perversions that may please
the author's whims. The characters in these stories are fictional, but are
mostly based on the author's true experiences, as well as the experiences
of others he has met. Every attempt to conceal these identities has been
made. These stories are placed in Nifty for the enjoyment of its readers
and are not to be copied and/or distributed without the approval of the
author.



			     Ledge Falls Park
			    by Amber Fountaine

			       Chapter Three

	It appeared that Roni and I had both been raised to be polite. She
needed to call her friend Jennifer and I needed to call Chris but we both
waited until after Randy had gone home - and Randy was in no rush to leave.
	We knew that Randy needed to get home and soon; he'd told us that
not long after our day together had started. "I've got all day," he'd said
when he'd been rushing Roni and me to get done with our house
cleaning. "But my mom said to be sure and be home no later than five. Some
kind of big surprise about the weekend." I'd assumed that after Jean left
and the sex party that followed had been finished, that Randy would head
out the door. Instead, he lingered, still in awe about the conversation
we'd had with Jean.
	Roni's mom had turned out to be every bit as `cool' as Roni had
said she was. Not only had she okayed my dressing as Kayla any time I
wanted, but she'd also said she'd go to bat for me with my dad in case he
didn't like the idea. I still wasn't sure how I was going to face my dad
after he found out I appeared to be a natural-born sissy girly-boy (and
liked it!) instead of the All-American, Mr. Everything that most men
expected of their sons. Not that my dad had ever tried to get me interested
in sports nor was he any great shining example of macho manhood himself. He
was good-looking and had money, a combination that women found very
attractive, so he did well with the ladies. However he was smaller than
almost all the women he dated and a wuss in most every way in his
relationships with them. When they said jump, my dad asked how high and
then begged for permission to land. So when Jean had told me not to worry
about my dad, I knew he might not like the idea of his son being `Kayla',
but her on my side, he wasn't likely to say anything, at least in front of
Jean.
	What had Randy so agog was that Jean had told him that it was okay
for him to be `Rhonda' when he visited with us. I didn't blame him. I was
just starting on my teens and guys that were fourteen, going on fifteen,
were almost obligated to try all sorts of silly shit. Dressing as Kayla
instead of Kyle and having sex with another boy were the sorts of things a
guy my age were almost expected to do. But Randy was on the other end of
the teenage spectrum; being nineteen already, old enough to vote, and
already a young man. By Randy's age, most boys had stopped experimenting
with the more unusual aspects of sex and had settled into a more normal
pattern. At least that's the impression I'd had prior to this week. Now I
wasn't so sure about any of it - but I was definitely learning fast!
	Before he went home, I think Randy must have asked us a dozen times
if Jean had been serious about letting him dress up with us. And what
seemed to have him (and me too, for that matter) more amazed than anything
was that Jean knew we were doing it for sexual pleasure.
      Then, to make it all the more . . . astonishing . . . at least to
Randy and me, was that Roni's dad had been one of the men we'd seen at the
park that had been there for sex with other men, AND that Roni's mom and my
dad had been kinky in their own sex lives. I'd learned what a strap-on was
and that Jean had been using one on my dad. I wanted to talk to Roni about
that some more and my little asshole quivered at the thought. But first we
had phone calls to make.
	Roni had her cell phone in her hand when we went to the door to see
Randy off. She was dialing it as soon as the door was closed and already
talking to Jennifer as she walked back to her bedroom. I wasn't in quite as
big a rush so I walked out to Randy's truck with him. When he thanked me
again and I responded with, "Any time," we locked eyes and there was no
doubt we meant it. I know for sure I did. Any time Randy wanted his cock
sucked, I was more than happy to do it for him. In just a few days, "Kayla
Cumslut" had established a reputation to live up to.
	He had the motor started, but paused to ask one more time, "So you
think it would be alright if I kept a few things to dress up in over here?"
When I assured him it would be fine and that I had room in my closet, he
seemed satisfied and drove off.
	Not having a cell phone yet, I had to wait until I got back to my
room to call Chris at the number he'd given me. I wasn't too surprised when
Marvin answered. Considering my previous conversation with Chris, I'd
assumed that Marvin must have a phone in his room like I did in
mine. Deciding to have some fun, I asked, "Is Chris or Melisa there?"
	`Melisa' was the name Chris had used when he'd been teasing his
cousin Marvin during our last phone call. With all the things I'd been
into, I hadn't had much time to consider the possibilities of Marvin being
another sissy boy, but I hadn't forgotten about it either.
	"Who is this?" Marvin asked, surprised by my question.
	"Kayla," I told him, and immediately he relaxed, saying, "Oh," and
then handed the phone to Chris. "It's Kayla," I could hear him say and it
sounded like he was almost giggling.
	"Hey dude," Chris began.
	"Don't feel like much of a dude at the moment," I told him. "Kayla
has been naughty again."
	"No shit! Tell me."
	I did. And I was glad at that moment that I didn't have a cell
phone. I think I'd have used up most of my minutes for the month before I
had finished telling Chris everything that had happened and answered all
his questions. Well not everything. I left out the part about seeing Roni's
dad in the park, but did go into detail on what had happened in the men's
restroom. I hadn't been at all surprised when Chris suggested that he and I
should go there the first chance we got, which, according to Chris, might
be very soon. He told me he'd be home Saturday morning and that he wanted
Marvin to come with him for the weekend. It seemed like everyone was making
some kind of plans for the three-day, Fourth-of-July weekend.
	Consuming or conserving minutes must have been on Roni's mind too,
as she finished her conversation well before I finished mine - very
un-Roni-like. She stuck her head in the door, saw I was still on the phone,
then waved and pointed at her room, letting me know to go there when I was
done.
	"Who did all the talking," she asked when I finally joined
her. "You or Chris?"
	"A little of both."
	"You were on the phone for way over an hour. That's not so little."
	I shrugged. "I told him most of what we'd done and he had a lot of
questions. He's coming home Saturday morning and probably bringing his
cousin with him for the weekend."
	"Jen's coming home too!" She gushed, giving me her big news. "But
she won't be coming over here. Her mom wants her to stay home a few days
but she thinks it'll be okay for me to go over there. Think Kayla can get
herself dressed without my help?"
	I was sure I could, yet I still felt much like a bird being kicked
out of the nest. But then again, I probably wouldn't be spending any time
as Kayla anyway. For one thing, a big part of the fun of dressing as Kayla
was doing it with Roni. More important, my dad was due back the following
afternoon, would most likely be around all weekend, and I wasn't about to
spring `Kayla' on him that quick.
      I was still nervous about that in spite of Jean's assurances. I had
to assume Jean had some sort of plan to handle that. For one thing, as far
as I knew, she hadn't told him that our maid - the one he'd supposedly been
screwing - was gone and that Roni and I had been acting as temporary maids
until Jean found one she could trust or . . . then my mind drifted.
	Once again it made me think about Roni's remark about the strap-on
and how she hadn't known that her mom had kept that on hand to use on her
dad. Roni had said that she assumed it was for her mom to use on her
girlfriends. That had been the second time that Roni had said something to
make me believe that Jean had been sexually active with other women. Was
that the real reason she'd gotten rid of Carlotta. Maybe Jean would want a
maid that she could enjoy instead of one that took care of my dad's
pleasure. Then I almost had to laugh at the way my mind had changed so much
in just a short time.
      Like a lot of kids my age, I had the notion that my parents (and
everyone else their age) quit having sex after they'd had the children they
wanted. I'd been fairly sure that, except for some perverts, once people
got into their late twenties, and for sure at the age of thirty, that sex,
if they were still capable, was mostly for procreational purposes
only. Unlike the kids my age who seemed obsessed with sex, it had seemed to
me that people that age thought only about their careers. Boy had my eyes
been opened about that! But then, I wondered if I was basing a lot of my
new knowledge on the older men I'd met? Or all the ones in the
e-groups. There were a lot of them but that still had to be a very small
percentage of the general population. I was sure that a lot of people would
consider them perverts. Was that what made them perverts - still liking sex
when they got older? Like my dad I wondered? Would my dad be considered a
pervert because he liked sex? Or more important, because he liked to have a
woman dominate him and screw him with a fake cock? Did Jean make Dad suck
the fake cock before she fucked him with it? Had he ever done any of that
with a real one? Did that make Jean a pervert too because she had sex with
other women and was happy pretend to be a man and fuck my dad when he
wasn't fucking her?
      But then, maybe being a pervert wasn't just an age thing. Would I be
considered a pervert because I wanted to dress like a girl and suck boy's
cocks? Was Roni a pervert for having a girlfriend like Jennifer? And the
diapers - before this week I'd never heard of anyone wearing diapers except
children that still wet the bed. Yet if what I'd seen on the internet was
any indication, there seemed to be a lot of teens and adults that wore them
and wet them on purpose and I was now one of them. I'd worn diapers like a
big sissy, wet them - and I'd liked it! A lot! Roslyn, the lady at the
lingerie store, hadn't seemed at all surprised when Roni had mentioned we
needed some panties that could be worn over diapers and had commented about
other customers that bought large, sissy style, ruffled panties for just
that purpose. So there had to be at least a few more perverts of that type
within a short radius of the mall. And those were just the ones that were
open about it. For every one of those that admitted what they liked there
could be a dozen more that did it and kept it a secret. That meant . . .
	"Where you at?" Roni asked.
	That was a dumb question in my estimation. I was sitting right next
to her on her bed. Then I realized that what she'd meant was, where was my
mind at. I'd been so lost in my thoughts that I'd gotten spacey on her.
	"Do you think we're all a bunch of pervs?" I asked, consolidating
most of my thoughts into the one main question.
	"Maybe," she told me. "Does that bother you?"
	I didn't know how to answer. For sure it concerned me. My first
thought was that I didn't want to be a perv. The guys at school made it
sound like that was almost as bad as being queer. But then, what did they
know? As Roni had pointed out to me at the beginning of this awesomely
adventurous week, those guys didn't know shit - and weren't likely to
learn. While they were standing around, afraid to so much as play with
themselves, I'd tried being `queer' - and liked it! Even better, I'd tried
being a perv - and liked that too! In the last few days I'd had more kinds
of sexual fun than those dumb-ass friends from school could imagine - and
I'd liked all of it! So it seemed to me that what I needed was a new circle
of friends that understood how much fun being a perv could be. I wasn't
sure how to go about finding or creating that circle, but there had to be a
way. From what I'd seen so far, us perverts may not be legion, but there
sure seemed to be a lot of us.
	"No, I guess not," I told Roni, my face breaking into a
grin. "Seems like perverts have more fun."
	"Yeah, I think you're right. And speaking of having more fun, mom
said she wouldn't be home until around nine. Got any suggestions for the
next four hours?"
	That was easy. "Yes ma'am. I'd like to look at your books some
more."
	That suggestion met with Roni's approval. She dug out the whole
collection and laid them on her bed. Then I remembered I still had one on
my desk and made a mental note to go get it. I might have done it right
then, but she handed me one and I paused to look at it. "Sissy in
Stockings," was the title and the cover showed a sissified man wearing
stockings with a garter belt, the straps adorned with some sort of lacy
flowers where the straps hooked onto the stockings. He had an obscene bulge
in his panties, as did the man standing next to him, shirtless and wearing
tented trousers. Behind the sissy was a woman dressed much the same as the
sissy, and the woman seemed to be urging her sissy toward the horny man. It
was easy to guess what that was all about. "Can I keep this in my room for
a couple of days?"
	"Sure, but I don't want to find the pages all stuck together."
	I knew she was teasing and smiled at her. I hadn't had to jack off
in days, and I was sure, if I ever had to do it again, that I wouldn't be
wasting my cum; letting it shoot out aimlessly and possibly soiling the
pages of one of Roni's books. It was much more likely that I'd catch it
somehow and swallow it - just like a good little cum-slut ought to.
	Then I thought about the tapes and DVD's we'd found in our parent's
room. "What about the porno movies in my dad's room? Want to watch one of
those?"
	"You trying to get me all hot and bothered so you can have your way
with me?"
	She'd acted insulted, but I knew she was still teasing me. "Of
course!" I answered, teasing back.
	Then she put her arm around me and asked seriously, "Did you like
fucking me?"
	This time neither of us was teasing at all. "Of course," I answered
again. "It was incredible. I can't wait to find a girlfriend so I can do it
all the time."
	"You wouldn't want to fuck me all the time?"
	Now I couldn't tell if she was teasing or not. "I'd love to fuck
you all the time," I told her. "But . . . You're older and I thought you'd
. . . You've got Jim and Randy and you'll be starting school in a few weeks
. . ."
	"More like a couple of months," she countered. "And I'm tired of
Jim and his bullshit. Randy has some possibilities," she added, breaking
into a grin. "I'm glad we found out about `Rhonda' aren't you?"
	"For sure!" I gushed, unable to keep from showing how much. From
the moment Randy had seen me feminized and commented about how lucky I was
to get to do that, I'd suspected that he was a kindred soul in the sissy
department. I hadn't had a chance to ask him about that or get details
about how he got started being Rhonda and how often he did it. What was
important was that he had a feminine side like I did and enjoyed it most
when he had another sissy to play with. For the time being, it looked like
I was going to be that sissy. "Yeah, I think that's going to be a lot of
fun. He wants to keep some clothes in my closet to wear when he's over here
and we can play . . . like that."
	"I told you my mom could be cool. But neither of you believed
me. She can teach you both a lot about makeup and doing your hair and stuff
like that if you really want to get into it. That's what she was doing when
she met my dad. He was a cameraman and she was doing makeup on the same TV
show." Then she put her arm around my waist. "Do you want to get into it?
See what it's like to be a girl? When I told Jen about you two, she got all
excited and can't wait to play with us."
	"You mean more than what we've done?" I'd dressed like a maid and
worn girl's clothes to the mall and sucked cock like a girl. How much more
could there be? Having her friend Jennifer involved would be awesome, but
other than the number of people, I didn't see where that would add
anything. Then I got apprehensive when it occurred to me that the only
thing I could think of that I hadn't done was being fucked like a
girl. That was still a HUGE next step in my mind. Cautiously, I asked,
"Like how?"
	"Learning how to walk and talk like a girl - getting good at it so
you could pass as a girl anywhere, day or night. You might even let a guy
pick you up and you could suck him off without his ever knowing you're a
boy. You could make out with him until he's all hard and horny and tell him
you're on the rag. Then you could rub his cock and tell him you'll be happy
to blow him. How does that sound?"
	Scary was the first thought that came to mind. But it also sounded
exciting - very exciting! And if I was ever going to do it, there was no
better time in my life to do it; find out if it was something I'd want to
keep doing or give up after the thrill or newness was gone. Yet despite the
assurances of Roni and her mom that I didn't have to worry about my dad, I
wasn't so sure. "I think I want to do it," I finally answered. "At least
for a few weeks or until school starts. I don't know about picking up guys
though."
	"You don't like the idea of Kayla getting to suck off good looking
strangers? You sure didn't seem to mind going to Ledge Falls Park and doing
it. Randy said he was still trying to figure out if it was safe to do and
you'd already gotten on your knees to do it."
	I sort of grinned and blushed a little. It was true. When the man
at the mall had shown me his cock, he'd had to put my hand on it to get me
started. But just a day later, the guy at the park, Carl, had walked up to
me, his stiff prick leading the way, and as soon as it was within my reach,
I'd had it in my hand. And once I'd felt it, rigid and rampant and needing
my attention, all thoughts of caution were tossed to the wind. I'd dropped
to my knees and devoured that dick like a homeless kitten getting it's
first meal in days, licking and sucking and gulping down a big load of his
jism, savoring the taste like the cum slut I'd become. "Yeah, I suppose I
did," I admitted, understating it immensely. It had been a wonder I hadn't
smashed my kneecaps as quickly as I'd knelt before the man to orally
worship his prick. That concrete floor had been almost as hard as Carl's
cock.
	I was still smiling at the thought of that experience when Roni
told me, "I don't know about you, but I think all I want to do tonight is
watch TV - or one of the movies I bought. Yeah, let's do that! We can get
in our nighties and make popcorn and watch movies!"
	I wanted to read some of her books, and spend some time on the
computer looking at the e-groups and check to see if anyone had responded
to the message I'd left on the So-Cal bi group about the park. But with
Roni bouncing on the bed with excitement, my eyes drifted to her juggling
breasts, and I knew I'd be following her anywhere and doing whatever she
wanted. I wondered if my dad had turned into a wuss around women in the
same way.
	By the time Jean called to say she would be later than expected,
I'd concluded that microwave popcorn didn't taste as good as movie theater
popcorn; that "Dances with Wolves," had to be the best movie ever, and that
Roni had to be the most gorgeous woman that ever wore a nightgown - or
maybe I was just getting horny again. Roni kept encouraging me to stay up
so that Jean could see me in my new nightie, but I could hardly hold my
eyes open. "I'll wear it to breakfast," I promised her, heading for my room
and some much needed sleep. I wasn't making excuses. I paused for just a
moment, considered turning on the computer, and almost in the same thought
passed over it and dove for my bed. Two minutes or less after I'd snuggled
under the covers, I was sound asleep.
	I was amazed when I woke and found I'd wet the bed. It wasn't much
and that may be why it hadn't woken me when it happened. In fact the
nightie and panties were almost dry. But there was no doubt the moisture
was piss. I could remember from years back when I'd wet the bed, that I'd
often been dreaming of peeing and would wake to discover that I'd done it
in bed. So I assumed, what with the diapers and pee play of the last few
days, I must have been having a dream about that and it had caused my
bladder to leak. It hadn't been enough that I didn't need to pee as soon as
I got up and headed for the toilet.
	Roni walked in the bathroom, the door to her room slapping me in
the ass just as I finished. "What's a guy got to do to get some privacy
around here," I taunted her.
	"Locking the door would be a start," she countered. "Besides, I
don't see any guys - just us girls." Then she started giggling. "Look in
the mirror."
	After shaking off the last drops of piss, I stuffed my prick in my
panties and turned to look in the mirror. She was right; my hair and makeup
were a mess. Then I realized what she was laughing about. Rolling around in
my sleep, the pads in my bra had come loose and because the nightie had an
elastic just under where a woman's tits would be, the pads had stayed in
the nightie but were no longer where they should be. I had two tits on one
side and none on the other. "Oops," I commented, putting the pads back in
the bra cups.
	"MUCH better," Roni teased. "Let me help you with your hair. You
should ask my mom about getting it cut in a style where you could comb it
out like a boy or a girl."
	With much more experience at getting herself presentable in the
morning, Roni made quick work of both of us, adding just a bit of lipstick
and rouge to my cheeks. "Sexy but not slutty," she commented. "We don't
want to give my mom the idea that we're boy crazy."
	"But we are boy crazy," I told her. "Or has this week been a
dream."
	"Yeah, it has been fun. Ready to surprise my mom?"
	I had goose-bumps on most every part of my body, inside and out,
but I knew it was something that had to be done sooner or later. More than
anything else about dressing as Kayla, I loved the lingerie and would be
happy if I could just do that without having to hide it. I wanted to run
around the house in nighties like Roni did much more than going out dressed
as a girl. So if Jean was okay with my being in a nightie and approved my
wearing those all the time, and then later changed her mind about me
dressing completely as a girl, I'd still be happy if I got to wear the
lingerie. I'd discovered in some stories in the e-groups for cross-dressers
that there were men that didn't dress as women very often, and some not at
all, but they all loved to wear lingerie under their male attire during the
day and slept in nightgowns every night. The shock had been that many of
them said they were married. As much as I seemed to like lingerie, I could
envision myself someday being one of those men. Assuming there was some
chance I could ever find a woman like Roni, that would allow me or
encourage me to wear lingerie, I could be married too.
      As we walked toward the kitchen, I was envisioning having a wife that
would let me dress in lingerie - maybe with matching outfits. Then I had to
smile at the obvious contradiction my body was causing. I was dressed like
a girl and thinking like a girl, and at the same time, I could feel my
prick stiffen in my panties. So I tried to think of something else and that
didn't work either. The nightie I had on was one of the baby-doll type with
matching panties and Roni had selected it because the bloomer style panties
were big enough to wear over a diaper. Without the diaper, my cock had
plenty of room to swell and I could only hope the hem of the nightgown
covered the tent that was forming there. Then I remembered I hadn't worn a
diaper and had wet my bed and wondered if I smelled like pee. Roni hadn't
noticed - or at least she hadn't said anything - yet I wished I'd
changed. But by then we were too close to the kitchen to consider going
back.
	"Morning mom," Roni announced, leading me by the hand. "I brought
Kayla with me for breakfast. Thought us working girls should eat first
before she and I begin our maid work."
	I was looking over Roni's shoulder, trying to peak past her to see
Jean and her reaction to the way I was dressed. I think I might have quit
breathing for a moment or two until I saw her look me over and then the
smile of approval on her face. That made me relax a little - at least until
she turned back the other way and I heard her say, "I think she's
adorable. What do you think?"
	Fear shot through me like I'd been struck by lightening. The
breakfast nook was off to one side, in the direction where Jean was
looking. I think I knew who she was talking to before I looked. Maybe I had
some idea that if I didn't look in that direction, than what I was thinking
couldn't happen. There was always some slight chance that one of Jean's
friends had stopped by to give her a ride to work for some reason. As
embarrassing as that might be, it was far better than what I was sure was
about to happen. Suddenly I was praying it was one of Jean's friends - or
even a neighbor over for coffee, as bad as that would be. But even as I
gave in and let my eyes drift to the table in the corner, I heard my dad
say, "I . . . would have to agree."
	I froze where I stood but Roni continued toward the table, leaving
me fully exposed to both adults. Jean was still smiling warmly, and that
helped give me the nerve to turn toward the sound of my father's voice. He
too was smiling, and to my amazement, seemed to be blushing more than I
was. Then I saw his gaze drift down to my crotch and his face reddened even
more. Glancing down too, I saw the bulge of my stiff prick in the lacy
panties. The hem of the top of the two-piece nightie was just short enough
that it made that obscene protuberance look more lewd than anything I could
have intended.
	That was it for me. I spun on my heels and ran to my bedroom,
slamming the door behind me and almost ripping off the lingerie. A quick
trip to the bathroom got rid of the makeup and then I hastily dressed in my
regular underwear for the first time in days. Adding shorts and a t-shirt,
I was dressed as a boy, with the intention of going back to the kitchen,
but . . . I couldn't face any of them, especially my dad. And yet I knew I
had to - somehow. The decision was made for me when he knocked on the door
of my room.
	"Kyle, let me talk to you."
	I didn't want to open the door. Nonetheless I knew at some time I
had to have this conversation and it might be easier in my room than in
front of Jean and Roni. At the same time, I wished I had Roni by my side -
or at least a moment alone with her first to find out what was said after
I'd run out of the kitchen. However, I'd put myself into this situation and
there really wasn't any sort of excuse I could use.
	The bedroom door wasn't locked. My dad could easily have opened it
and come in. He didn't because we'd reached an understanding back when my
mom was still living with us that we didn't walk into each other's
bedrooms. That had come about as a result of the day I walked in on my
folks having sex. I hadn't had any idea at the time that that's what they
were doing. I thought my mom was giving my dad a massage or something. I'd
assumed they'd just gotten out of the shower or were about to take one and
that's why they were naked. It was catching them naked that I'd thought was
the problem. However with what I knew now, I think there was a good chance
my mom was fucking my dad with a dildo. The outcome had been that we'd
instituted a rule that we didn't walk into each other's bedroom until asked
so I went to open the door for my dad. Then I quickly turned away from the
door so I wouldn't have to face him. That's when I noticed that the
nightie, bra, falsies, and ruffled panties were still laying on the foot of
my bed where I'd tossed them. I'd spent so much time dressed as a sissy
over the last few days that sexy lingerie hadn't seemed out of place on my
bed. But my dad was sure to notice and it was too late to hide them. I
glanced back and saw that was exactly what he was staring at.
	How do you explain to your dad that you're a boy that enjoys
wearing girl's sexy underwear? I thought briefly of somehow blaming
Roni. But that wouldn't be fair - at all. Sure she'd been instrumental in
helping me discover this side of myself. However I'd already given that
some thought and concluded that somehow, some way, sooner or later, I'd
have tried all the things I'd done that week, with or without Roni's
help. All Roni had done was help me make it sooner rather than later.
	Still, I felt like I had to come up with some sort of reason or
excuse for my actions and I didn't have one. Since the first time Roni had
mentioned my dad while I was dressed as Kayla, I'd had thoughts about how I
would explain this if he were to find out. Then last night, after talking
about it to Jean, I'd again given thought to how I'd explain this to him
and had failed to reach any conclusion. The whole time I'd been changing
clothes my mind had been racing, churning out one possibility after
another, re-evaluating each idea that had occurred to me over the last
couple of days. But nothing seemed to work. So I was in shock when my dad
gave me an excuse that I hadn't known existed.

To be continued. Comments appreciated: amber_fountaine@hotmail.com