"Oh, hi Roy. Did you want to set the table for me?"Yeah, sure. I wanted to set the fucking table. I wanted to throw the fucking dishes on the floor an... throw you back on the fucking table and throw a fucking fuck into your fucking ass. That's what I wanted. "Sure, Mom", I say, instead."What a nice son you are." She tousles my hair.Why can't she tousle my fucking dick, instead?Betsy comes flying into the room, dripping sex. "Is dinner ready yet, Mom?"I'll give you dinner, toots. Munch on this. In fact, I was sorely tempted at the time of that first interrogation to make it my destination for my shirts which had lately been treated dismally by yours truly when it came to pressing out the wrinkles and using the right amount of starch to keep the collar and the cuffs looking prim and proper.With my characteristic lack of planning, I had forgotten about my resolve to do better with regard to my laundering and had simply turned the job over to Julie with apologies for my shortcomings. In. Embraced all of the presence, atmosphere and the very aurora that was imitated. He explored and soaked in with all senses in heady excitement, craving for even more. His eyes observed and drank in different pictures as he moved his gazed over this magnificent vision. As if treasuring each frame of a favourite moving picture. Moving around and seeing Verna in differing light, shadows and perspectives each image was almost a mirage of exquisite painted but real life artwork. Not only his mind. He began caressing his thighs through the thigh-high stockings and rubbing his 'pussy' through the tight, satin panties as the movie played. He was in heaven.Bill was so blissful and at peace with his submissive, feminine side, however, that he did not hear the key in the front door down the hall from the living room. Nor did he hear the door lightly shut and the gentle, approaching footsteps. Had he heard them, he would have panicked beyond belief. And not just because he was dressed as a.