“GARREETTTT!!”
His wife yelled and hollered, louder than she had even whilst delivering the boy, her eyes squeezed shut, her hands scratching his skin and clawing the bedspread. Meanwhile, his son smirked as he made his dear old mommy cum for the umpteenth time that day, his rapid cock-walloping continuing seemingly effortlessly.
Soon her hips flew off the boy’s penis, her overstimulated pussy expelling the rubber-covered dong and soaking it with a large volume of frothy, whitish fluid. Even disconnected, she continued to shake, lying completely flat on her son’s muscular torso. He kissed her hair and lovingly ran his fingers through her blond tresses.
When she woke from her daze, she began laying kisses on the boy’s chest, working up his neck, and settling at his lips. After a wet, breathtaking, tongue-tiring embrace, she looked down at him, and whispered, “I love you. Only you.”
If she meant that for Garrett’s ears only, she had failed. The last of Doug’s insides died as he watched his son tenderly reiterate her vows of love, and then wordlessly began rutting with his mother again.
He retired from the scene, heading to the master bedroom. He was confident they had neither seen nor heard him, and he wasn’t even trying to hide.
“Anh!! Here we go AGAINN!!”
He heard Kristen yell as he sat down at his bedroom desk, placing the petunias by the faint light of the window. Outside, it had begun to rain. Doug hadn’t even registered the pitter patter on the roof. Normally, he loved rain – the sensation, the smell, the mood – it reminded him of reading his favorite comic books on his balcony during his college days in Washington. He opened the window.
“Drill meeee!! Oh you big beautiful BOYYYYYYY!!”
As Doug learned what it actually sounded when his wife climaxed, he fished out the keys from his pocket. Isolating a small silver one, he bent down and opened the drawer at the bottom left. He placed the wooden box on his desk, blew away the accumulated dust, and removed its contents.
“Ohhh!! My god! I fucking missed this cock!”
As he quaffed the last of the Glendronach 15, he signed his name onto the document, weighted it down with the empty bottle, and picked up his drop-point survival knife.
*THUNDERCLAP*
Garrett grew impatient, stepping out of bed. He walked over his boxers, his now flaccid manhood wagging with his steps; while a small part of him wondered where his father was, the teen was largely concerned in restarting his indulgences of maternal comfort. The idea made his balls tingle and slowly pumping blood into his indefatigable joystick.
He walked into the master bedroom, only to find it completely empty. His attention was drawn by the paper on the desk dancing to the storm outside the window. He quickly walked to the window, pulling it shut. Gathering the papers, he weighted them down with the empty liquor bottle on the side. His gaze focused on a section of the paper, lit faintly by moonlight.
“I devise, bequeath, and give my…”
His attention was refocused to the master bathroom by the sound of moving water. The door was closed, but light peered through the bottom.