"You coming? She asked. I followed and took my beer. She had the hot tub going, walked to the edge and dropped her towel, revealing her black bikini,...the kind that ties (or unites) everywhere. "Feel free to join me."she said as she climbed in. "I'm not wearing a bathing suit." "That's ok, your boxers will be fine." "Um... I don't wear underwear." A smile gleaned across her face. "That's ok, not like I haven't seen it before. Ok look I'll turn around." She turned and I removed my shirt and. He did that rather than hit somebody, which was a rather good thing. You wouldn't get up if Dad hit you. The violence might have been caused by an air bubble that was left in Dad's brain but that didn't make it any easier to live with. He hit Mom once a few months later and I got in the way trying to protect her, terrified that Dad would kill her. Mom was tiny. He hit me in the side of the head and knocked me clean across the lounge room. I couldn't hear for hours nor could I move because I was. More

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