She had my father's pistol in her hand.Dad stiffened for a moment, and then laughed nervously. “Put that thing away before someone gets hurt, Joan,...�� he said.“Someone is going to get hurt if you don't get off her now.”“You don't even know how to use that thing,” my father said, still shoving himself in and out of me. “It can't be that hard,” Mom said, extending her arm until the gun barrel was touching my father's ear.“Put the fucking gun down, Joan. Now,” my father said in a bad imitation of. My body melted . . . again . . . as that little voice raised a small protest.“Don’t worry, Lawrence is very gentle,” her voice said as even my internal voice started moaning in appreciation. This wasn’t sex, it was something more primal in me. I was panting as Chic tried to kiss me, but I couldn’t stay with her, as much as I loved kissing her already. My head was spinning even more than when she went down on me.I was lying on top of her, those magnificent breasts hot against me, her legs were. More

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