She flipped the lid up and scanned the titles."Anything in particular you want, Cliff?" she asked."Mmmmm... How about Coltrane?"Monique opened the cas... labeled "Coltrane" and popped the cassette into the car's tape player. Soon the mellow sounds of "Blue Train" were playing from the speakers as the wind whipped through their hair. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows behind the car as they sped sunward. The clouds were starting to build in front of them, presaging rough weather ahead.. So you know what? Maybe he does really help her out like that!Everyone at school thinks my mom’s a total MILF and stuff, too. Sometimes it’s hard to pretend to get mad at my buddies for saying shit like that. I mean it’s expected to get defensive, but they’re absolutely right, too.I just read over what I wrote and there’s a lot of repeat words but still no explanation of the tradition or what the present mom gives me will be. That’s just because I’m still really nervous. I keep thinking things. She nodded and slid her own hand down and in as I slid mine out and raised the slimy fingers to her mouth.In the kitchen William was drinking coffee. I told him Susan was awake and maybe we should go back out. I poured another coffee and grabbed some smokes and we went to the carriage house to find Susan sitting up and toking with one hand and rubbing her cunt with the other.Her eyes were glazed from the pot, and she handed William the joint as she lay back down in open invitation.It was quite. Maybe the girl realized the back seat wasn’t as private as she was accustomed to when sharing it with some white high school boy.We pulled into the drive of the house we rented and led our girls inside. We gave no tour and brooked no dissent, heading straight for our respective rooms. I led my little white girl in, turned on a light and closed the door behind us. I turned around to see her back was to me but she was looking at us in the dresser mirror before us. I pressed up behind her, letting.