Sunday EveningIn the living room I sat between Annette and Deborah as they attempted tochange me again with mere words, they were petty enough to plac... a mirroron the coffee table, all that's reflected are my eyes in that woman'sface. I smiled like Fran would every morning for a new day andimmediately looked away hopeful this session would purge these remnants"Fran?" Annie asked."Your sister is dead Annette," I responded.Annette squeezed my hand, I - the Fran part - am hurting saying this. "Errrk," the poor kid said again as his painfully hard cock throbbed again.Dick looked at his son in astonishment at the sound. He remembered that sound from his youth. He remembered that sound because it was the same one he had made around his blonde mother. Yes, his mother had turned him on, hard. His beautiful mothers seeming lack on inhibitions had provided many opportunities to see her taunt breasts and hard nipples and nearly shaved pussy. Thinking about it as he looked at his son looking. More

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