“Ten minutes on my left, Kyle, and then switch to my right,” I breathed out. Yes, I’d taught Kyle to dutifully clean up his messes, and he always complied, no arguments, always obeying his mother, as all good sons do, and that meant he’d clean up his messes with her, no arguments, always obeying her, as all good boyfriend’s do. xxx “Spatula, too.”
He removed a black plastic spatula from my utensil’s drawer on my immediate left, set it down on the counter, and then took to digging some strawberry jam out of its own small jar. Let’s milk those blue balls! …Yes, fuck me, Son! …Oh, fuck me hard! “I love you, too,” I smiled as I rested my head on my hands.
