Just a Typical Japanese Family Part Three
Copyright© 2026 by Dragonpig
Chapter 10
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 10 - Guess who's back? Back again. Dragonpig's back, tell a friend. Yes, I took that from Eminem. He's the one who originally did it. Did I say I'm just like the Borg on Star Trek? I find something I like, and I try to improve on it. But I think of myself being more respectful. This is a non-canonical fan-written continuation / sequel inspired by Caesar’s 2007 story “Just Your Typical Japanese Family.” All original characters, concepts, and the core setting belong to Caesar.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Teenagers Consensual Romantic Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Fan Fiction Zoophilia Furry Cheating Sharing Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Grand Parent BDSM DomSub MaleDom FemaleDom Humiliation Orgy Interracial Oriental Male Oriental Female Anal Sex Bestiality Exhibitionism Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Voyeurism Babysitter Public Sex Small Breasts Teacher/Student Nudism
Cornelius Marker kicked a loose pebble along the narrow gravel path, the half-empty beer can cold in his left hand. The family business had owned half the plots in this tired little cemetery for generations. His great-great-grandfather had started it, then his grandfather, then his horn-dog of a dad. And one day, whether he wanted it or not, it would all be his. Marker Funeral Homes and Memorial Parks. The name felt like a ball and chain around his ankle.
He was supposed to be checking the grounds. That was what his dad expected of him. Instead he was doing what he always did lately: drinking, smoking, and being pissed off about this nowhere town he had been stuck in for the last five years.
He took a long pull from the can, then lit another cigarette with the glowing end of the old one. The smoke curled up past his scowling face as he walked between the rows of headstones. Most of them were old, worn down by weather and neglect. Good. He took another drag. Fuck this town.
His mind kept circling back to the same bitter shit, the way it always did when he was alone.
New York felt like a lifetime ago. The penthouse, the noise, the excitement, the city that never slept. Then his dad had walked in on his mom with her face between the Filipino maid’s legs, some tight little thing ten years younger than her. Mom was a dyke. Always had been, apparently. Closet case who finally needed some pussy. The divorce was fast, ugly, and expensive. Dad got custody, the business, and the new life in this dead-ass town because of “family roots” or whatever bullshit he spouted.
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