If you're a good boy ... mommy's special boy, then I'll let youshave. OK, honey? Mommy isn't heartless. Mommy's just giving you whatyou need. A li...tle embawassment that makes you all tingly." As she saystingly, she tweaks my nose.The rush of alcohol to my head is accompanied by a rush of blood to mygroin. Mommy smiles at me like she sees right through me, and knows I'mstiff as a board."You'll be a good boy while mommy's gone?" She waits for my reply. Sherepeats it in a much stricter. He let his tiny fire go out, and snuggled into his warm bag, hat protecting his head, and lean-to only blocking part of the brilliant starry sky and dancing northern lights.Frank woke up, and wished he hadn't. He was in the bottom of his sleeping bag, which was being thumped rythmicaly against a slightly resiliant surface, jostling him, over and over. The slight resiliancy made no difference, after a short while, because it went on, and on, and on. It almost seemed he was being carried, but. “Matty,” my sister gasped as she surveyed the carnage. “How much fucking spunk? God, I’m plastered.”For me, as soon as the lust erupted from my cock the heat went out of the moment. Immediately after I sprayed my sister’s breasts with cum, horror and remorse rushed into the vacuum left behind by the abrupt evacuation of need and desire.Appalled, I gawked at the mess, recognising the girl as my sister as she tilted her face from the mess on her frontage, eyes catching my focus. I groaned out her. ‘Well as I see it…’ she began. The door burst open and there stood her grinning cowboy in a black suit, silver and bone belt-buckle prominent, and wearing a white Stetson. Everyone applauded. ‘We shoot me in this get-up when I take Lacey to the Founder’s Ball,’ he said, only to be told the city didn’t have a Founder’s Ball. ‘Well it will when we organize it,’ Bluey said, ‘Americans are quick to celebrate apple pie and war endings, but ignore fundamentals like celebrating what those good people.