Slowly I wrap my hand around the base of my cock, pulling the sheet tight, giving her an even better view. When she moves, her breasts press against the soft fabric of the moon and jiggle a bit. I’m well fed, and Ash is wearing a threadbare Pink Floyd T-shirt that might be a relic from the eighties. I’m as hard as my Big Bertha driver, and my cock is pointing at the ceiling. And when Ash walks out of the bathroom a minute later, she actually gasps. Lord knows I’ve had plenty of practice imagining what life would be like if we were a couple. It’s not my fault if Ash is stressed out from a long evening of deception. Grinning up at the ceiling, I realize I’m having more fun than I’ve had in a long time. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,” she says eventually. Then violent spitting, followed by rinsing. I hear a choking sound from the bathroom. “When you and I are married, your parents and I will get along great.” “I like your folks,” I say an hour later as I lie in bed. If only she’d give in to the inevitability of us. A warm house, soft lighting, great food, and they’re actually here. This is what a healthy, normal family looks like. I can’t help but like her parents and be a little envious of Ash. Power, and we compare all our favorite golf courses. The Power family indulges in all the usual Thanksgiving foods, except there’s also green tomato chow served with a slice of tourtiere, a spiced meat pie.Īfter dinner I wash dishes with Mr. I eat my weight in turkey with all the fixings, while Ash watches nervously.
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