Family Ties

“Beside,” she added, almost as if she’d read my mind, “I have to convince you I’m not such a goody-goody.”

“So Wren was right? About you?”

“That depends,” she said slyly. She did the twist thing as her hand slid over the head of my cock. “What did she say?”

“That you’re a total nympho in bed.”

“I still don’t like that word, but…”

“Maybe,” she allowed. “But I like sex kitten better.”

“Fine by me. Sex kitten it is.”

“Do you always talk this much during… you know?”

“Yeah, I do.” I laughed and almost made the mistake of telling her how much it bugged Wren. I asked instead, “Does it bother you?”

“Not really. I don’t have to wonder what you’re thinking.”

“Better that way. Fewer misunderstandings.”

“So, Miss Sex Kitten… what’re your plans here?” The little head started cheering for her to suck me off. “I mean, where would you like load number two?”

“Uh-uh. I asked you first.”

I blinked in surprise.

“What did he say?” Christy asked with a grin.

“Sometimes. It’s cute, though. So, what did he say?”

“That I should relax and enjoy myself.”

“I’m really starting to like him.”

“Of course. You would. He wants the same thing you do.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Just…” I shrugged. The time wasn’t right for a long discussion about who was seducing whom.

“You’re so… thoughtful… sometimes.” She looked between us at where her hands gripped my hard-on. “At the weirdest times, too. Wren’s right, you’re a philosopher.”

I shrugged. What else could I do?

“I guess so. Remind me which one you are.”

“Mmm hmm. The cloudy side. But not in a bad way. Just… more complicated. More interesting, I think.”

“So…,” I said before the conversation could turn philosophical for real.

She grinned. “I’d love it.”

I climbed up and straddled her chest. My cock came to rest between her breasts, which had flattened from their slight weight but were still firm little mounds. Her brown nipples were puckered and very hard. She smiled up at me and returned her hands to my shaft.

She started stroking with the twist, and jolts of pleasure shot through me.

“I’m close,” I said after a few minutes.

She flinched in surprise when the first spurt missed her mouth completely and hit her cheek instead. She immediately corrected her aim so the rest of the spurts coated her lips and tongue. She swallowed once and then focused on squeezing the final drops from my shaft.

I sat back and breathed hard through my nose. She cleaned her cheek and wiped her chin and lips. She licked her fingers and then felt for any she’d missed. Her face glistened when she finished and smiled up at me.

“I like this liquid diet.”

I laughed and swung my leg over her. I lay beside her and gazed into her calm blue eyes.

“But now I’m kinda hungry for real.”

“Yeah,” I said, “that’s the problem with a liquid diet… it doesn’t fill you up.”

“Maybe I just need more liquid.”

“Maybe,” I laughed. “But you’ll have to give me twenty minutes or so. In the meantime, sounds like you’re ready for breakfast.”

“Mmm. And I have a really selfish request,” she said. “Would you mind bringing breakfast here? I don’t know if I’m ready to… you know.”

“Baby steps. No problem.”

“Thank you!” she said with genuine relief.

“You want the usual?”

“You know me so well.”

“Not yet,” she teased. “You have to wait for the priest.”

I rolled my eyes and then kissed her before I leapt to my feet. I didn’t bother with clothes or even a jacket. I simply thrust my feet into my flip-flops and headed out the door.

Mom was in the kitchen area. She was wearing a man’s shirt, a faded pair of Gators sweatpants, fuzzy socks, and slip-on clogs. She looked up when she saw me, and her eyes widened.

“What’re you doing? Where are your clothes?”

“Nudist camp,” I reminded her.

“Winter,” she countered.

I ignored her and gestured at her shirt. “Dad made it safe?”

“Mmm hmm. A little after midnight. We came back right after Doug and the girls.”

I nodded and found two bowls, which I filled with cereal and milk. I wondered how to get everything up to the room, so I rummaged under the counter and found a plastic restaurant tray with “S&W Cafeteria” in faded Art Deco letters. Mom was frying eggs for breakfast sandwiches.

“Is that all you’re having?” she asked as I added two apples.

“I might add some peanut butter if we have any,” I said, “but yeah.”

She rolled her eyes and cracked another egg into the little electric skillet she was using instead of the stove. “Doesn’t this girlfriend of yours feed you?”

“Not really,” I laughed. “I feed her more than she feeds me. But don’t worry, Wren takes good care of all of us.”

“I like her. Susan does too.”

“That makes three of us.