Mom Does Anything:>Ep48

"No, I am," Dad said, looking at his glass. "I've found that I can have four fingers of whiskey before I take my pills, and then I'll be out for ten hours straight. Not even a thunderbolt from Zeus could wake me after that." Dad looked at his phone. "It's six now; I'll be out by eight and up by six-thirty, well-rested."

"As long as it's safe," I said.

"Between you and me," Dad said, lowering his voice, "I need the rest. I went to the gym today to work on my cardio. Your mother has been wearing me out the last couple of days."

"Ah, Dad," I said. "Why would you tell me that?"

While the words that left my mouth sounded like the response a good son might have given, on the inside, I thought, I wish we could brag about Mom to each other. Was I odd for wanting to share my mother with my dad? I had glossed over several incest stories in the last few days, and they were always about sons who stole their mothers from their fathers, but I loved my dad. What would it be like to have Mom walk around naked for us, taking her whenever we wanted, or having Mom give us blow jobs while we watched sports together? What would it be like to have Mom as our sex slave?

"Hey," Dad said, "if I have to hear about how my son is trying to have sex with his girlfriend then you can listen to me brag about my sex life."

"What if grandpa talked to you about grandma?" I pictured my grandmother, who was sixty-three or four. She belonged on any magazine with a Sexy Over Sixty cover story. My grandma had a Jayne Seymour-like appeal with a fit, older woman's body... what would it be like if we double-teamed his mother together? Oh, man, I had really become fucked up in the head.

"I'd ask him," Dad said, "So, old man, how much Viagra do you have to take to get your willy up?""

"Ah, man," I said, laughing. "Why do you always have to top me?"

"Because," Dad said, "I can't make these kinds of jokes at work anymore since #MeToo, though it seems to be dying out, doesn't it?"

before #MeToo came along," I said, heading

on dinner

your four fingers tonight," I said

pulled up in a swirling bun gathered at the back of her head with loose strands hanging about in a sexy, I've just-been-fucked, kind of a mess. Had my father fucked her while I was upstairs? The

had folded back to her elbows and a tie belt at the waist. I knew that dress. I knew that it buttoned down the center in the front. The cotton was soft but thick enough

hallway and said, "I think that you should show me that you're not wearing panties." Despite my calm voice, a chill ran up my spine. My dad wasn't far away, and though we had fooled around on the couch with Dad sleeping nearby, I wasn't sure if Mom would

glass of white wine sitting in front of her. She brought it to her lips and drank, helping herself to a long swallow

I licked my lips and opened and closed my fist, stretching

come in here and try to will his food to finish faster, but if you tell him five, then it might

shouted, "you

"Thanks!" Dad yelled back.

could have done that," Mom said, tilting her

shirt dress hung atop her ass, giving off faint impressions of its

do it," I said.

and twisted as her fingers pinched the cloth against her thumbs, and with a small hip

backs of Mom's thighs came into view, then the bare flesh of her cheeks, her pussy shadowed by her butt and dress, the dimmer lighting, and the angle of my gaze. She raised her dress to the small of her back, then gathered the material and pulled it

me of something with resentment in her voice. "Now, what are you going

listen for Dad,"

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