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"Mom? Are you in there?" Lisa's voice came from the other side of the door."Y-yes, dear," Mom tried to say as I continued to feed her my rod from behind. She tried to wave me to stop, but instead I just changed my motion to slowly pulling out, then slamming it back in. Her eyes rolled back in her head in pleasure."I'm going for a drive. I'll be back later," Lisa said. Knowing my little sister was on the other side of the door, started to get to me, and I knew I wouldn't last much longer."Okay, d-dear. Drive safe." Mom was having difficulty thinking, much less talking as I continued my alternating rhythm. We heard Lisa walk away, and mom stood abruptly, pulling away from me. "I can't believe you did that. What if she caught us?" Are you afraid of your daughter catching you with your boyfriend?" I asked with false innocence. We could hear Lisa drive away, and mom grabbed my cock, unlocked the door, and led me out of the bathroom. "My boyfriend has something I need," She said as she led. I was so shocked to see Greg standing in the doorway of the"playroom" that I lapsed into a kind of impotent stupor. I just staredup at the tall, broad-shouldered, and ruggedly-handsome man staring downat me. My beautiful wife was having an affair with this man and therewas nothing I could think to do about it. I could only imagine what hewas thinking, hands thrust into the pockets of his chinos, a bemusedexpression on his face. There I was, his "rival" for Wendy's affections,sitting on the floor at his polished shoes wearing a diaper and no shoesof my own, just pink paint on my toenails, and holding a baby bottle inmy painted fingers.At that moment, Wendy came to the doorway, stood on tiptoe, and gaveGreg an all-too- familiar kiss on the mouth. My heart sank. She wasdressed in a tight black cocktail dress and the leather pump sandals Iloved."Whoaa," Greg said, getting a look at Wendy. "Now don't you look goodenough to eat."He slipped his arm around my wife's petite waist and pulled.
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‘I’m a sucker for a pretty face. Ask Mark, he’ll tell you.’ Ryan laughed. ‘Yeah, I guess Mark has a pretty face, when it doesn’t have stitches on it.’ Brody grinned. ‘I’ll tell him you said that.’ That seemed to break the tension and Ryan sat while Brody put the rest of her groceries away. ‘You know, you should buy some real food sometime.’ Brody closed a cabinet and turned to look at her. ‘I have plenty of real food.’ Ryan crossed her arms in front of her. ‘You just put it away.’ ‘I don’t think you had anything that wasn’t microwavable. That’s not healthy.’ ‘I manage, thanks. Are you a chef or something?’ ‘No.’ He shrugged. ‘But I like to cook, and it kills me to see more fake food than real food in a person’s kitchen.’ He arched an eyebrow at her. ‘Come on, not even bananas?’ ‘I don’t like bananas. There are grapes in the fridge.’ ‘I don’t believe you.’ At Ryan’s wave, Brody went to the fridge and opened it. He spied a small, sad container of what might have been grapes but were.

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