"Hi Dad!"
"Hello big fella," smiled Greg Jackson, "Been keeping out of mischief?"
"Sure. How was the trip?"
"Great. Got the Henderson account back, honey," he said, kissing his wife warmly on the cheek, "What a blast! I was worried about that one." He squeezed Mary's buttocks. "No worries now though, things are looking good," and pointedly looked at Mary's breasts. "Everything's back to normal again."
Back to normal again. The words bounced around Mary's head. I have been fucking our son while you were away.
"My wonderful hunter-gatherer home from the plains bearing the kill," laughed Mary bravely. "I suppose you will want to be rewarded now?"
"Naturally," said Greg, winking at her suggestively.
"Well first you'll eat, and shower, mighty hunter," smiled Mary. Will things ever be normal again? Did she even want it that way?
"Tom. What's this about hypothermia? Are you okay now son?"
"Sure. Better than ever Dad."
That very day. That day Greg had phoned Mary as he usually did when he was away. She had answered the phone naked, her body gleaming, cum slime shining on her lips and chin. She had gone down on her insatiable son again and again. Her knees were weak, and her hands trembled when she told Greg about the snow storm and what had happened. Not the whole story. Even as she spoke to her husband, Tommy's head was buried in her snatch, licking her cunt furiously, devouring her, sucking in her juices. She had involuntarily groaned when his tongue mashed against her clit. "You okay honey?" Greg had asked. "Sure sweetheart, better than ever."
After she hung up, Tommy fucked her on the kitchen table.
