It only then dawned on Mother we were making a guest cook.“Fiona!” she said. “This is not appropriate hospitality. Why’s Amanda doing our brea...fast?”“I don’t mind”, said Amanda, before I could answer. “I enjoy cooking, Ms Esmonde.”Mother glared at Amanda’s back.“It’s still not done, Ms Rossi.”Amanda laughed.“Sorry, Aideen. It’s how I was taught to address adults, but I’ll remember. I do mean it, though; I really don’t mind cooking for you. In fact...”“Yes?” I said.She turned around and looked. She checked the lane then scooped up the rest of our clothes into her arms. "No time," she said, "let's get out of here so he doesn't spot our naked asses." We both ran away from the pool, across the yard, and into the large wheat field behind the barn. At first, I enjoyed watching how her soggy panties clung and bunched around her rear as she ran, but after 20 yards or so, my boner, as Jenny liked to call it, began to wane, clearly not enjoying the running. Once we got into the field we. More

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