There were memories of her here, in this apartment. Translucent ghosts hovering at every turn.It was time for an exorcism.I got an old box out of the closet and started with the obvious things. Alicia's picture—into the box. The bundle of her letters—same fate. Then the mix tapes, the cutesy stuffed animal, and all of the other gifts in obvious sight. Thinking about gifts got me rummaging through drawers for the Shakespeare Festival and concert t-shirts. Concerts triggered other memories and I walked back into the front room and stared at the poster on the wall.It was the Melissa Etheridge poster that I'd bought at the concert Alicia and I had attended in Denver in '89. Alicia had practically attacked me in the car on the way home. When I insisted on not pulling over, she yanked her jeans and panties to her ankles and proceeded to finger herself to a noisy orgasm. I'd often smiled when a glimpse of the poster reminded me of that night.It went in the box.Not everything that Alicia had. Peter had fallen into the pit of his new found sissylust and there was no stopping him now. He knew he had to squirt badly andhe knew he wanted his father to help him. "Daddy," Peter said with mock shyness, as he picked up a pinkcorset that was his mother's. "Do you want to try this one on and see hownice it feels? They won't be home for a while so we can try things onbefore they get back." Frank looked at the beautiful pink shiny corset with garter strapsand bra cups. Then he slowly looked at his son and saw the boy's purplepanties tented out. Frank involuntarily licked his lips and said nervously,"Do you think I should?" "Sure daddy!" Peter bubbled with overt sexuality. "Can I help youput it on? It may be tricky for you to handle." As if in the middle of some teenage wet dream, Frank found himselftelling Peter to help him with his mother's corset as he stripped off hisclothes. When he was naked his six inch cut cock stood out rock hard,purple and throbbing, with a little drop of.
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