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"Yes June I'm telling you I've noticed Jared peeking up my skirt and down my blouse and whenever we are alone together he's got a bulge in his shorts!" There was no anger in my mothers voice, she sounded surprised and she even giggled a few times as she continued to describe what she had become aware of. "Well, of course he does, I'm sure of it because I've seen him do it! Yes June, I was on my way to bed and as i walked passed his bedroom i noticed his door was open and i know that Jared likes to sleep with his door shut, so i was going to shut the door, but instead I pushed it open a bit and peeked inside and in the reflection of the mirror I could see Jared masturbating! I don't know why but I continued to watch my son beat himself off and then I. Garfield.He was the one I didn't have sex with. I never even used his first name. To be totally correct, we never even met.He lives in California, where he owns quite a few vineyards. We were a client of his. His white wines especially became a featured highlight in our catalogue.Mr. Garfield hated meeting people.The two times we visited his lovely mansion, he apologized for not being able to see us. I understand he always does this. So I never came eye to eye with Mr. Garfield.I did see a few pictures. They were rather vintage, I guess. They also might have been from Errol Flynn or another long-gone Hollywood actor. I looked it up. Gregory Peck, most likely.Mr. Garfield must be ancient.So he may not have had a face, but he did have a voice. It was the kind that crawls up to you and slips under your skin. The velvet kind of voice that you disparage when you talk with your friends. "Too schmaltzy," you tell them. "Too smooth an operator." But you never say how it makes your pussy.
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