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Watching it was as good a way as any to kill time. The scene was mostly a familiar one: six men huddled around a card table, jackets removed, ties loosened, smoke swirling from cigars and cigarillos, and piles of chips sitting in front of each man, with some piles larger than others. But this game had something none of the other games that Moe witnessed had – a nude blonde standing in the corner. The dame was no bigger than a minute. Her hair was pushed back off her face to reveal pale, parchment skin. Her eyes were as big as silver dollars, blue as poker chips, and just as opaque. She didn’t try to hide her nakedness, but stood like a marble statue: legs stiff, torso motionless. Her titties favored a couple of fried eggs with very little yolk, and counting her ribs was as easy as counting piano keys. Her quim whiskers were also blond, but they were sparse and barely did the job of covering her cradle. Moe could almost be convinced the chick was a statue except for the bit of life. I had panicked when I killed father. Mother too was only another nail in my coffin. I had acted foolishly again and I was beginning to feel ill as if my whole world was about to implode. What would I say to Katherine? What was my story for the Gardas? Should I take my own life? Just then Katherine entered through the back door and presumably saw part of fathers body lying in the kitchen because I heard an awful wailing. I ran and tackled Katherine trying to calm her down. She had dropped her bathing towel on the floor when I tackled her and I used my hands to cover her mouth. I stuttered incoherently trying to explain what had happened. I body pressed up against her warmth quickly settled in. I tried to shake it off and stay focused but by now I was sure Katherine felt my cock hardening pressing against her leg. She squirmed, her eyes filled with terror. How could I? With my own flesh and blood... The harder I fought these thoughts the stronger they became. I in a crazed mental state.
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