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They had held a memorial service for Veronica three weeks after her disappearance. A plaque was placed at a shady site in a park near her parents' home after a small service for the immediate family, conducted by their local minister. That small gesture was well received by her father, but Veronica's mother was still distant and cool toward Tom. Only her grandsons felt her love and sorrow.Connie had developed the habit of dropping in on Tom on the weekends, knowing he hadn't touched the sailboat since the accident. She tried to encourage him to get out, taking her or the boys or both along with him, but he steadfastly declined. He wondered aloud if he should sell the Lynchpin Lady, but the boys and Connie had raised such a fuss against doing it that he let the subject drop. And so it sat, forty-six feet of fibreglass and teak, rocking gently at its dock in Fisherman's Cove.Tom was thankful to have his business. It needed attention and that took his mind off Veronica and his other. I was wearing a very skimpy outfit that day, dresses with bunny ears and a bunny tail, with a lacy black bra and tight ass-hugging underwear which exposed my butt for everyone to see. I was rolling HARD that day so I loved the feeling of being touched and every time a hand would brush past or grope my ass I would shudder with pleasure. After a while I started dancing with a tall, muscular black boy who was a bit older than me. He was forceful in all the right ways, grabbing my hips and ass and moving me across the noticeable bulge forming in his pants. Even though I was rolling I could feel pussy getting wet. Eventually he said we should take a break from the dancing and head to the bleachers. I, thinking that we were just going to make out, eagerly went along. We went to a dark corner of the bleachers, out of sight from most people's view. He smacked my ass as I was about to sit down and I giggled. As soon as my ass had hit the bleachers, he started gradually pulling down his.
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