“It's what I want to do and what she's stopping us from doing.”“James,” she called again, her footsteps clomping up the stairs like the big co... she was. “Your breakfast is done.”“Okay, Mom,” he shouted, pulling away from me. Then, softly, he added, “If you want to keep this a secret...”“Fine,” I huffed. And why was she making just him breakfast? I guess I wasn't good enough. I was just a slut.Mom opened my door. She glanced at me, her eyes hardening. Then she glanced at James and his bulging. Bobby came in and I pointed to the signaling device from his pubic hair. All she said was "Damn, those things are really small."I waved the wand over the signaling device and it squealed. I had Frank stand on the table and we worked up from the table an inch at a time over his whole body. If I had some lube, I swear I would have stuck it up his ass. We were doing fine until we got under his arms. Shit, more hair. We used the undershirt and comb and found a tracking device under each arm. We. So I guess I have to put up with this kind of friendly warfare until they close the lid of the coffin, but as I said before, if I have to go, I don't want the church choir, I just want to hear them argue about whether to cremate or bury me. The three of us know that none of the arguments are serious, but they just like to act the part of the teenage feminist and the stubborn mother - I play the role of the beleagured father, torn into two as my wife and my daughter try to pull me into opposite. It was your typical woman talk.Mom then hollered for me. "Mark, get in here!"I walked in the kitchen to find my mom and Ms. Christina behind the counter. It was that moment where I noticed how fucking hot and sexy Ms. Christina looked. I never noticed before. It was probably because I hadn't seen her since I was a little younger. Back then I wasn't really thinking about sexual stuff, but tonight I was. Ms. Christina made my cock hard instantly! She was all in red. She had a red dress, red.