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I show Sarbun how to clean the pans with hot water, a squirt of dish detergent, and a small kitchen cloth. I add water to the water tank.She takes off her T-shirt — I should say she tries to. She seems trapped in the stretchy garment. After a quick Montessori lesson (arms crossed, grab the hem), she gets the T-shirt off and puts her own tunic on.While I put on long pants and shoes, I think about the furniture. A bigger bed, another chair. That will really fill the room; we couldn't both turn around at the same time. Bunk beds would conserve space, but would not be good for our marital life. Hmm, gotta think about that.Sarbun follows me up the hill to find some small oak trees. We have to go beyond the area that I picked over for the house and chicken coop. She watches while I harvest the trees and dress the limbs. She seems to understand what I'm doing, and offers to help me drag the trees down one at a time. She knows that these are green trees and that I'm having to work very hard. Tucker replayed the encounter over and over in his mind in slow motion. He could visualize her big butt cheeks pressed up against those metal cage bars. She had a waffle style imprint when they were done. He could still see the white wisps of his cum dripping down her asshole. He could imagine it backward and forward.He second-guessed whether she knew he was fucking her at first. She could have cried out or reminded him she told him he could ONLY use a dildo. He wondered if she had wanted him to fuck her ass. He would have felt horrible if he took advantage of her while she was bound. He wondered if his Aunt had let him do whatever he wanted because he was Karen’s son.His mother now had some insidious hold over her, and Betty obeyed her without question. It stood to reason that maybe she let him get away with having at her because she thought his mother wanted him to do that. He wished he had talked to her about keeping this secret.He knew Betty would tell the truth when asked. He was.
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