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“You’re lucky you didn’t drop off the edge of a cliff. You should have come for your driver and he could have driven you to the water in a couple of hours.”“We got too excited,” Maddie said, joining Keith’s story. “We could see where we needed to go and thought we could make it.” Keith squeezed her leg again, thanking her for helping.“What is at the water’s edge?” Derek continued his interrogation.“The genie,” said Keith. “According to the instructions, that is where the path to enlightenment lies, guarded by the fire of the desert—the djinn. I assume there is some kind of carving along the shore that we’ll be able to spot when we get there.”“The path to enlightenment,” Derek began. “This isn’t a metaphorical path, is it? There is some kind of temple, the gates of which are statues of demons, the path to which is lined with gods, or some such, and the entrance is on the banks of the Euphrates?” Derek said. “None of that was in the old manuscript Yousef was carrying around.”“What did. Dad would stay at home recovering from his illness and Mum became more and more unhappy with life. Little did I realise that Dad could no longer give Mum the fucking that she so longed for. However, this changed when I reached mid teens. My first recollection that Mum was really missing having a hard cock between her legs was that Mum started to dress slightly more provocatively when I was around and no one else was about. She would bend over in a short skirt so I could see her stocking tops, thigh and panty covered pussy. Mum would then say something like "I hope your not trying to peek up my skirt, I know what you teenagers are like". I would stammer an apology and run up stairs and wank myself stupid. Then it happened. One Sunday afternoon, Mum and Dad opened a bottle of wine and Mum offered me a glass, which I accepted. Over the next couple of hours we must have emptied 2 or 3 bottles and I know that dad not being a great drinker had only had one glass. At the time I had just.
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