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Flavius Mom page 16 Ernest Samuel Llime
friend Flaviu's mom. Flaviu was about a year or so older and thus a sixth grader while I was still in the fifth. In spite of that, and mainly because I had a special gift for languages, his mom actually paid me for tutoring him in French. She had always seemed a bit distant and fragile in a blue-eyed blonde and quite angelic kind of way. I used to believe that she was some kind of tortured soul, because of an incident I had previously witnessed.

On a particular day, while I was picking cherries from one of their trees, her husband who was a Cavalry Captain in the Romanian Army came home a bit earlier than usual.  While he was dismounting from his horse, she came out to the veranda to greet him. I could not quite make out the conversation but he sounded somewhat angry and at some point he grabbed her, sat down on one of the benches, placed her across his knee, lifted her skirts well over her head and proceeded to hit her ass with his sword. In as much as this scared the shit out of me, I tried hard to become invisible or at the least, turn into a little squirrel and hide. I couldn't quite ascertain if the sword was in its scabbard but I later found out that it was not, and that being a flat saber he could use it without actually cutting into things. In retrospect, I find that my fear was quite irrelevant because what I remember most, were the skimpy little polka-dotted bikini panties that were covering only a small portion of her beautifully ample buttocks and the red stripes that were forming on the backs of her thighs and on her posterior. The memory may have been somewhat tainted by the many wet dreams that kept re-playing the incident for me, in some of which, the panties came off and I could get a look at her beautifully barbered pubic hair. In the reality of that moment however, he did not notice me and after a while he took her inside and her screams became somewhat more muffled - I of course (not necessarily a coward, you know, I was after all 12 years old and he was a well trained, well armed military Captain) high-tailed it out of there like an Acela express train.

All of this flashed through my mind rather swiftly. like a video fast forward getting to a point in time about a year or so later. It was Thursday afternoon, I had just gotten home

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