"Oh, why is there a handprint on the wall?" Dad said crossly.

My boyfriend had been unable to help himself, unable to stand unsupported as I drew long, deep sucks on his erect shaft. He'd stood just where Dad was looking, his trousers around his ankles and his knees trembling. He'd braced himself, his palm flat.

"Hurry up," I'd said. "They'll be home any minute!"

In the nick of time, his semen had poured out across my tongue. I swallowed the evidence as he pulled up his trousers.

He looked my dad in the eye.

"I don't know, sir. Sorry."