You can say.”And then I plunged into my son’s clean, unlubed cunt. He cried out. I did, too. I guess that was our talk. I guess that was all that ...eeded to be said.As I plowed him, railed him, bred him, he moaned and flexed, showing me his muscles, displaying his pride, being what he needed to be: His father’s slut-bottom son, born and raised to serve the cock that created him.His mother moved out years ago - sensing, I think, our growing bond, unwilling to intrude on our deviant passion -. Her mother came to check on her,but she just pretended to be asleep. She didn't want to have to deal with hermom wondering why she couldn't say a word to her. April slept fitfully thatnight, trying not talk in her sleep. She dreamed terrible dreams, where whatshe said came true, and because of it horrible things happened to the peopleshe loved, and to her, and to the world. In one of the dreams, she was temptedto say something so she'd finally have nice breasts. She said something sosimple,. More

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