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Fifteen Years without Parole

Date: 8/29/2015, Categories: Fiction, Incest, Male/Female, Teen Male/Teen Female, Author: Unknow user, Rating: 71.9, Source: sexstories.com

of restaurants?" "We buy a new house somewhere else, of course." "Of course. You're always so sensible." "Damn right I am." *** Not until halfway through Attack of the Giant Leeches—a particularly shitty film, even by the standards of our usual Friday booze-and-bad-movie nights—did my mind finish chewing over my doubts and spit out an answer. "Serious question." I muted the TV; now I'd never find out what giant-tits said to husband's-friend-who's-gonna-fuck-her, because I sure as hell wasn't sitting through this thing again. No real loss. "One sec." Pam spun, pulling her still silk-wrapped legs off of my lap, then tilted back and drained her glass, which she'd filled maybe two minutes ago. "'Kay. Go ahead." "Mom's finished, at least for a while. Career's done, legal sex offender, political hypocrite, all that jazz. Done with public life, thanks to us." "Yup. High-five." I shook my head, but couldn't leave her hanging. "Fine. And you and I are set, for now. The advance pays the rent; if the book does half as well as Roger says, working's optional. Maybe no flashy sports cars, but enough to live on." "That all seems right on track so far." "So. We won. Now, what, we retire? At twenty-something?" "You say that like it's a bad thing." "Might be." I paused, tried to get my thoughts in order. "Mom was driving us forward, right? We had a goal. It got things out of stasis. Moved things, brought us somewhere. And now there's nothing there to keep that momentum." "Getting awfully ... existential there. Been reading Nietzsche under the covers at night? Reliving your teenage angst?" "Please, Pam. Just one actual, serious conversation. Minimal bitchiness from both of us." "That was minimal bitchiness." "Look. What I'm trying to say is that Mom brought us here, and now she's out of the picture. So where do we go?" The expected retort didn't come. She was frowning at the ice cubes in her glass. "There's two things there, I think, and you're trying not to talk about one of them." A pause to gauge my reaction; I guess my face said more than I thought it did, as she pushed on. "First, the cunt made change happen, and that's good, but that doesn't mean change has to stop. If this isn't your thing, then go back to school or whatever, or, I don't fucking know, go spend time picking up dogshit at the animal shelter. It's not like the only thing worth living for is fucking over other people." "Strange, hearing you say that." "Now who's being bitchy? I'm not vindictive and spiteful every second of the day—just around you." Her smirk only lingered for a second. "But that's the other half of what's eating you, yeah? The whole 'us' thing. Specifically, the fact that 'us' came from Mom in more ways than one." "Basically." "And now the thing that got us here together is gone, there's no reason for us to be here together?" My chuckle sounded forced, even to me. Probably because it was. "Sounds pretty fuckin' shallow when you say it like that." "And I don't think you believe it ...