Chapter 12

Mary stepped out of the bathroom. The old hallway floor creaked underfoot. The scent of lemon polish mixed with the smell of roses drifting in from the backyard through the open window. Her old childhood home still brought back so many memories.

She started down the hall toward the living room when she heard her mother’s voice, low and stern but laced with that familiar no-nonsense affection.

“You’re so stubborn. I don’t know who’s harder to get to pop, your daddy or your brother. Stop fighting and empty those big balls of yours, Author. Mama’s been doing this for you ever since you learned that thing could do more than just take a pee.”

A low, guttural grunt followed, deep and male. Then her mother’s voice again, satisfied: “There you go. Let it all out.”

Mary turned the corner and stopped.

Her mother sat on the old floral sofa, sixty-something and still sturdy, wearing a loose flowered housedress. Author, her older brother, mid-forties, had his uniform pants down around his ankles and his mailbag resting against the side of the couch. He was sprawled halfway across their mother’s lap, his thick cock in her hands. Both of Gloria’s palms were wrapped around his shaft, slick and shiny, stroking with firm familiarity. A spurt of cum was already jetting from the tip, spilling over her fingers and pooling in the hollow of his belly button, glistening on the trail of dark hair there.