Descrizione:
Husbands aren't the only ones who suffer from being in prison, and Toni really needs some dick. With everyone watching her every step, even his permission means nothing- until her son shows that he has what it takes to be the man of the house!
The twenty-fifth book of the Caught By My Son series.
Excerpt:
I stared back at him for a long moment- I was caught staring at him, staring at the one man I was never supposed to stare at- and I reacted. I ran up those old stairs as fast as I could, feeling like the devil himself was chasing me. I didn’t stop until I was safely back in the kitchen, the door separating us for the time being, as I thought quickly of how I was going to explain this one.
Victor was an adult, and the basement was essentially his room. He was more than old enough to be watching porn, or masturbating, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have a right to expect privacy down there when he closed the door. Whether this was his house or not was beside the point- enforcing the moral rules that our Catholic faith taught was pointless as soon as the news announced that his father was supposedly a member of a criminal organization.
How can you expect your son to be a choir boy when his father is in prison for the rest of his life, deserved or not?
I had to think quick- yes, I had to think of some reason why I was down there, and why I had been looking right at his dick.
Maybe Victor will do the two times I caught him- maybe he will simply blow it off.
The sound of his heavy feet on the old steps told me that this was not the choice that he was making. No, he has always been confrontational- the same short temper that might make him good at wet work, but would ever keep him from rising to the top of any supposed organization- and waiting to act is not his style. He opened the door, finding me in the kitchen.
“Mom, what the fuck?” Victor said, looking directly at me, standing there in sweatpants and his wife beater.
At least he put some pants on, covering that monster up!
I didn’t need to see that thing again- no, it would be too distracting-
“I came down there to tell you dinner is almost ready,” I said, the first excuse I could think of, “But I need you to go to the bodega, get some things-”
“It’s almost ready, is it?” Victor said, pointing at the counter, where the ground beef was sitting, “Really- you haven’t even made the meatballs!”
“Well, I need celery!” I said, which was true.
Victor walked past me, to the counter on my right, staring into the bowl.
“You have celery in the bowl,” Victor said simply, “So bullshit- what the fuck were you doing downstairs?”
“This is still my house,” I said, “I have a right to go downstairs if I want!”
I am not going to explain my actions to my son, damn it!
“This is not your house,” Victor said, propping his arms back against the counter, “This is papa’s house. Since he is gone, I am the man of this house.”
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