. our legs ... and take it good and deep!” Mom groaned and panted ... as I continued hammering her slippery snatch and going deeper with each stroke...Finally, of course, it happened. I bottomed out inside Mom’s cavernous cunt and she squeezed as tightly as she could, unmistakably enjoying on some kinky, primal level that I went even deeper than Dad ever did (she didn’t tell me this until later in a moment of confidence). I found myself wanting Mom to really cream herself, so I began playing with. ”Tentatively, I stepped forward. I figured I’d just do to him what I did whenever I felt stressed. I stood in front of him, my face only coming up to the collar on his shirt. I reached for his belt and started to unclasp it when he put one hand on me.“There’s no need to rush,” he said.I looked up. His grey eyes were fixed on me in a cool expression. My hands left his belt and I moved behind him. I tucked my fingers into the collar of his jacket and peeled it off of him. My hands trailed his. Its the same him, the same shit, but Im different now. It feels dissonant, frightening. Like I thought I knew what I wanted, and it wore a leather jacket and smelled like engine-oil and booze, and rode motorcycles with a devil-may-care attitude, and bent me over those motorcycles and fucked me with that same devil-may-care attitude. But now it all just seems a little… adolescent. Small. Ethan, me, all of it. So when he held on to my wrist with that shark-tooth grin, all fucking drunk and. Marilyn had on pajamas under her heavy robe. She was still on the mend, and we hadn’t gotten around to testing out how well the stitches were holding, so she wasn’t trying to get me drunk and have her way with me, not yet at least. She sat down on a bar stool at the island and looked at me expectantly.I stared back. “Wait a minute! You invited me out here for a drink, and you want me to make the drinks?” I exclaimed.“Thank you, dear.”“Christ on a crutch!” I grabbed a bottle of semi-dry Riesling.