When he got home, Tom had a long talk with his parents. He remindedthem how he would play the pregnant daughter when playing house withthe neighborhoo... girls when growing up. How he'd pretend to be a mothershopping for her family when playing super market. How he had wanted toget a canopied bed with lace trimming the last time the family went bedshopping, but his mother insisted on bunk beds. Finally they both gavein. They didn't like it, but they accepted they had no choice.The next day Tom. Oh well, might as well make the best of it. So I started slowly stroking under the sheet, plenty to imagine this morning. Lost in thought, the door blew open and Mark strolled in wearing only running shorts. I quickly pulled my hand above the sheet. I don’t think he noticed – or he was cool about it anyway. He was a little out of breath, dark hair dripping a bit, torso and legs pumped, with an endorphin-relaxed glow on his face, smiling. “Good morning sunshine,” he smirked at me.“Geez. More

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