Part 2
(Mm, mf, mmf, blackmail, exhib, oral, inc)
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted 2019 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted.
Standard Disclaimer: This story contains sexually graphic and explicit material and as such it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, please read no further. If you are offended by stories featuring group sex, bisexual situations, incest, sex between minors and adults, or any other situation, please check the story code before reading the text. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein, especially when it comes to unsafe sexual practices or sex between adults and minors.
The Glendale Country Club had a big to do for the 4th of July. That was fun. But that night I spent the night at the Smith's... with Rhea. That was a lot more fun! Raymond slept alone. Next morning we were upstairs having breakfast. Mr. Carl, fresh from bed, made his way into the kitchen and to the coffee pot stark naked.
"Daddy!" Rheanne exclaimed in mock indignation.
He turned and said, "What?"
"Your naked!"
"So what?"
"We have company..."
"Who? Braden? I'm sure he's seen naked guys before."
Taking his cup of black coffee, he pulled up a chair. Juanita who wasn't fazed by any of this asked, "Mr. Carl, what do you want for breakfast?"
"Just my usual protein shake," he replied.
Turning to me he said, "Braden, every household has its own rules. Our rules are probably a little different than your parents' rules." That was an understatement. "Whatever happens in the privacy of your home, should stay private, as it is no one's business except the members of your household.
"Likewise, whatever happens in the privacy of our home should also stay private. We all like you very much, Miss Jessie and I, and the kids like you too. They trust you and I hope that we can all trust you. You're practically a member of this family, and as such, you may see things that perhaps you shouldn't see. I trust that you will respect our privacy and never discuss any of what you may see or do under this roof with anyone other than the people now in this room, Jessie, included of course.
"Now, you seem to be here at all times, and you're welcome to be here, but.. that has caused some problems for the rest of us."
"I don't mean to be a problem," I interjected fearing that I was about to be shown the door. "I always call before coming over."
"No, I'm sure you don't mean to be a problem. You're a great kid and I'm glad you're my kids' friend, but..."
"You can trust me. I won't ever say anything."
"I'm going to need assurances of that."
"Anything you want," I practically pleaded.
"I know you kids mess around together downstairs, and that's fine with me and Miss Jessie. You're all old enough to have sex and enjoy each other. But, if you want to continue coming over here..."
At last it was all out in the open and they were okay with it. That in and of itself was hard for me to get my head around at the moment, but I knew I had to act decisively. "Oh, I do, I do," I said.
Juanita came and set his freshly mixed protein shake in front of him. As way of a thank you, he reached up and patted her on her ass.
"Then you'll give the assurances I need?"
"Yes, sir." I glanced over to Ray who was all but cracking up. Rheanne just looked distressed.
He downed his shake. "Very well. But, before we get too far, you need to know that I want a photographic assurance."
"Photographic?"
"Yes, photographic. Something you wouldn't want your parents, or anyone else, to ever see."
"Uh, I..."
"I won't ask you to do anything you haven't already done before. Okay?"
"Uh, okay."
He rose. "I need to make a few phone calls, then you and me, Braden, we're going to take a little ride. We'll go in an hour or so and then be back within an hour."
Once he walked out of the kitchen, I turned to Ray who appeared to be in on the joke, if it was a joke. "What does your dad mean by, "won't do anything you haven't already done before?"
He leaned over and whispered so that he couldn't be overheard, "He wants to photograph you sucking some guy's dick."
"What!"
"Hey, it's no big deal. Everyone in my parents' "club" do something similar... a photo of them doing something they never want to get out. Something sexual and very embarrassing. Whoever it is that he's going to take you to, you'll never see again. The only photos will be the one Dad keeps under lock and key.
"Don't worry, no one will ever see it... unless you piss off my dad."
I sat immobilized, not knowing what I should do. A few minutes or so later, Mr. Carl is ready to go. What happened to an hour? Almost robotically I followed him into the garage. He unlocks his car and I open the door to his metallic blue Bentley. Climbing in, I was surrounded by sumptuous leather. I'd never been in a Bentley before. It made my dad's Mercedes look cheap. I'd seen this one in the garage, but was never offered a ride.
We back out, turn around and he drove down the driveway. The automatic gates open and we're on the street, silently speeding past the Club where my dad was probably playing golf.
In a minute or two, we're past the city limits of Glendale and out in the city at large with its masses of the unwashed and uncouth. He doesn't say a word, which for Mr. Carl is unusual.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"To a studio," he replies without elaboration.
"Raymond told me that you want a picture of me... uh, sucking some guy."
"That's right. You've done that before. More than once with Raymond, I understand. You suck off any other guys before?"
"Uh, no! Just Raymond."
"Then you know what to expect. Don't worry, it's no big deal.
"I really hate having to do this to you, Braden. I really do. But I can't have you blabbing about what goes on in my house. I could get into to some serious trouble letting you kids do what kids have always done."
"I won't blab."
"I know you won't. And it's not just what you kids do either. It's what Jessie and I do. We can't have that getting out. I have my business, as well as my family to protect. You can understand that, can't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then you'll go through with it?"
"Do have a choice?"
"Yes, you do. You want me to turn around? I'll drop you off at your house and that will be that."
The prospect of losing Raymond and Anne and being stuck with my own family was not at all what I wanted. If I understood correctly, I was being given permission to have sex with Rheanne and with Raymond by their parents, not that I was all that interested in having sex with Ray. That was wild and too good to pass up.
Mr. Carl slowed down and pulled into a parking lot. We were there, or so I thought. But rather than parking, he was just turning around and headed back towards home.
"Where are you going?" I asked confused.
"I'm taking you home."
"No! I'll do it! I'll do it!"
"I'm not forcing you to do this," he said.
"No, I'll do it!"
He pulled into the next parking lot, stopped and turned to me. "Look, you're just a kid. I don't want you to do something you might regret later. You have to be 100% sure about this. I know it sounds like a threat, but I can't have you in my house without assurances that you'll keep our confidence. What I'm telling you is essentially blackmail, and blackmail is a dirty vile business. But, I don't see any alternative in order to protect my family."
"I'll do it," I repeated.
He reached over and mussed up my hair. "Okay, son. And that's what you'll be to me, my son, and a member of my family. This will sort of be an unofficial adoption. Okay?"
"Sure! I'd like that. I hardly even know my dad, or my mom and you don't want to know my sisters."
"That's really too bad, Braden. Family is... well, family."
"I like your family better, much better."
"Okay, let's do it," he said with his disarming smile. "Ready? Ready to suck some guy off for the camera?"
My asshole puckered up tight, but I replied trying to sound confident, "Yeah, I'm ready."
He pulled out of the parking lot and continued on his way. Five minutes later and we pull up to a nondescript building in the light industrial section of town. He honked his horn and a steel garage door rolled up. He drove in and the door closed behind him.
We got out of the car. There were two men there standing by a doorway in the back of the building. Mr. Carl strode up to them and I followed behind.
"This the subject?" one of them asked.
"Yes," answered Mr. Carl.
"How old is he?" the other asked.
"Old enough," Mr. Carl answered.
"I don't want my face shown with this kid," the second man said. I knew then who I was going to suck and I wasn't all that thrilled by the prospect. The first man was clean cut. The second was a swarthy fellow with a beer belly, a bad eye and a two day old beard. He looked like he was going to smell.
He smiled at me, an evil smile and grabbed his crotch. "Do I get to fuck him?" he asked. My danger stranger antennae went on high alert.
"No!" Mr. Carl said to my relief. "He's going to give you a blowjob and that's it."
"I'll cut my fee in half," the man offered.
"No! This isn't a porn shoot. It's business and that's all."
"Saving his ass for yourself?"
"Something like that. Now, let's get this done and over with."
"Pay me first," he said. Mr. Carl opened his wallet and peeled off several twenties.
We went through the door and then into yet another room. There were lights and reflectors set up, as well as an expensive looking Nikkon camera set on a tripod.
The camera was facing a brick wall, spray painted with some graffiti. In front of the wall were several metal garbage cans, all beat up with one filled to overflowing. That was to be the backdrop of this sordid affair.
The clean cut photographer turned on the lights and began fiddling with the camera. Mr. Carl looks over to me and says, "Strip. Strip completely."
The swarthy guy with the bad eye, not waiting for instruction began shedding all of his clothes. Undressed, he looked even worse than he did in his shabby clothes, with a big nasty scar down his belly. His big outie belly button didn't help his appearance. Nude, he walked up to the garbage cans and took up his position.
The photographer removed his camera up from the tripod. He looked to me and asked, "Ready?"
I nodded and looked to Mr. Carl for a last minute reprieve. A reprieve was not forthcoming. He just nodded for me to get to it.
The electronic flash began going off as the camera began to click, the motorized film advancement whirring as soon as I was close to the man I was going to blow. I knelt. The flashes came at a rapid pace. I reached out and took the heavy uncut organ in hand. Eager to get this over with, I didn't wait for him to become erect, leaned forward and took his flaccid cock into my mouth. I nearly gagged. With my nose in his pubes, he not only smelled ripe, he tasted ripe. I pulled off and looked to Mr. Carl and in doing so looked right into the camera.
"Do it! Suck his dick," he said. I turned back and took the smelly organ back into my mouth. With just my initial suck, it started to engorge with blood.
"Look this way," the cameraman said. I turned, cutting my eyes to him as the electronic flash continued to flash with each picture taken.
The dick got bigger and bigger and soon the foreskin was rolling back. There was this horrible taste as his smegma hit my tongue. I soldiered on and was soon bobbing his cock between my lips, the man calling me a dirty cock sucking faggot. As for tongue work, I wasn't required to do that.
I was thinking, 'Okay, he's got his pictures.' I was about to pull off and end this humiliating ordeal when I heard Mr. Carl say, "When you cum, pull out and cum on his face."
"You got it, Mister," the man replied as he took my head in his hands and began face fucking me, driving his dick so deep that it was gagging me. I began foaming at the mouth, the foamy spittle drooling down my chin, flinging this way and that as my head was jerked back and forth, splattering onto my chest and his legs equally. All the while the camera flashed as the photographer took photo after photo of me blowing this seedy old man.
I felt his cock swell and his cum blasted into my mouth. He yanked his dick out of my mouth and jacking it, came all over my face, the strobe still flashing once every five seconds or so. Thank god it was over!
"Lick it off my foot, faggot," the man said holding his foot out. It had a glob of spittle on it. I leaned over and licked it off. His feet smelled worse than his dick had.
"Sure you don't want me to ass fuck him?"
"No, but I do want you to get behind him so it looks like you are ass fucking him," Mr. Carl said.
"Just get on all fours," I was directed. I did and soon felt a semi-erect cock poking into my backside as the flashing continued. I was expecting to have my anus violated any second, raped and I began to tear up. I didn't exactly cry, but I was crying, my eyes were red and tears were rolling down my check.
"Okay, that's enough," came the order from my best friend's and girlfriend's father.
"Anytime you want me really to do him, just let me know. You know where to find me."
"Get dressed and get lost," Mr. C told him.
"Anytime, anytime," he replied as picked up his clothes to dress.
The photographer gave me a hand towel to clean up my face and chest with. I dressed and we returned to the Smith house. I never felt dirtier in my life, than I did during the return ride in the Bentley.
"No one is ever going to see those photos, and that includes me," Mr. C reassured, "so long as you keep your end of the bargain. Now, just forget about it. It never happened."
Then he added, "I'm proud of you."
Proud of me? I just debased myself in front of him. I debased myself just because he told me to do it. I never did see those photos and neither did my parents nor anyone else that I knew of. Some years later, Mr. C told me there never were any photos, but I didn't believe that.
Back at the house he told me to go downstairs and get a hot shower. "And use plenty of soap," he added. I didn't need soap as much as I needed toothpaste and mouthwash.
Cleaned up, I put on some clean shorts and a t-shirt I liberated from Raymond. Going upstairs, I didn't see anyone at first, but heard them outside, or rather I heard Rheanne squealing in delight. They were all in the pool, all except Juanita and she was wet and naked. She dived back into the water. Mr. C launched Rheanne shrieking into the air, tossing her to Raymond who tossed her back... she was nude. Then Miss Jessie exited the pool and oh, my lord. She was naked too, her big wet gleaming tits bouncing as she approached me. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Mr. C and Raymond were also nude.
"Hey, Baby," the twin's mother said coming up to me and laying on a kiss. "You look so uncomfortable. Here, let me help you." She pulled my t-shirt over my head and relieved me of my shorts.
"There, that's better, don't you think?" she said rubbing those hooters into my bare chest. That was the big secret, the Smiths were nudists? And yeah, that was better, much better!
Having stripped me naked, Miss Jessie gave me a not-so-motherly kiss and dived back into the pool. I followed and was soon in the middle of a massive grab-ass game of tag. What fun!
By and by, Rheanne said she was getting tired and wanted to go take a nap. "Want to join me?" she asked right in front of her mother.
I looked to Miss Jessie who just smiled and said, "Go on, you two. Have fun, kids." I don't think she was anticipating us actually sleeping.
I followed Rheanne out of the pool and down into the dungeon to her bed. She didn't waste any time in letting me know what she wanted. After a few minutes of playing kissy-face and then titty-suck, we were fully engaged in intercourse. We rolled around on her bed changing positions frequently. At some point I noticed that we had an audience. At first I felt a little uncomfortable fucking his twin sister in front of Raymond, but I wasn't about to stop, so if he wanted to watch...
I blew my load directly into her clasping snatch and continued fucking her until my pecker gave it up. I rolled off and seeing Raymond smiling while he jacked his hard dick, I smiled back at him. Next thing I know, he was crawling over me. To my shock, he mounted his sister. She didn't object, not in the least and fucked back at him very enthusiastically.
As I watched the incestuous coupling of brother and sister, I realized that they had done this before. No wonder she wasn't virgin the first time I fucked her. I now wondered if the story he told me that she had lost her virginity over a year before to the school's then reigning Mr. Super Jock was true or not. It could have been true, as I'd heard numerous stories about how the guy deflowered a lot of girls at Glendale Middle School before moving on to the high school. I also came to realize that maybe Rheanne wasn't as exclusively my girlfriend as I had thought. Still, it was hotter than heck to watch my best friend fuck my girl and by the time he was done for the moment, I was ready to go again. While I fucked her from behind this time, Raymond had her sucking his dick. I could have gone for a long time, but Ray wanted another go at her, so I yielded, letting her suck me while he fucked her. After a while, we switched holes. Like a well honed team, we tag-teamed her for I don't how long before Raymond had had enough and had wandered off.
So I'm sitting up in her bed and she's blowing me for the umpteenth time it seems, when her mom comes in. I nearly freaked, but Rheanne paid her no mind, nor was Miss Jessie upset.
"Braden, your mother just called and she wants you home. She sounds upset."
Oh, fuck, Mom did tell me that she wanted me home early. Why, she never said, and understandably, I had forgotten all about it. Tearing my eyes away from Miss Jessie's big naked tits, I looked at the clock and it was nearly three. Fuck, Mom wanted me home by one.
"Maybe I'd better call her," I said and reached for the phone by Rheanne's bed. Miss Jessie turned and left, my eyes following her flexing naked ass as she walked out the door. Rheanne, she kept sucking my fatigued semi-flaccid dick trying to get me up again.
"Mom..."
The screeching tirade made me hold the phone away from my ear. Even Rheanne pulled off and looked astonished by the unholy racket my mom was dishing out. I really had no idea what she was saying, but her message was loud and clear, I was to get my butt home this very minute. Of course I couldn't just jump up and run home smelling of pussy, so I made it to the shower for a quickie, a quickie made not so quick by Rheanne's insistence that she "help".
I was still in the shower having my asshole washed when Miss Jessie opened the shower door. "Your mother just called again. She says she'll pick you up at our gate. She'll be here in two minutes. Now get out and get dressed."
Getting out wasn't a problem, but getting dressed was;. I had no idea where my clothes were, so I had to borrow another outfit from Raymond, including flip-flops. Semi-dry and dressed, I darted upstairs and out the front door just as my mom pulled up in her Lincoln. I opened the gate and hopped in the backseat of the car. One of my sisters was driving, the other riding shotgun; my mom, a ball of fury, was in the back and began pummeling me. Gradually, through the pounding fists and yelling, I surmised that we were now late to catch a flight and go see my grandmother.
My mom's mom... good god. I'm sure Mom told me, but as usual when it came to my mom running her mouth off, it went in one ear and out the other, never once meeting a single brain synapse. Such a horrible prospect of being stuck at MeMa's with my mom and my two sisters surely would have registered with me. Then I realized that she hadn't informed me, knowing what my reaction would be.
"Why are you making me go?" I finally yelled back at my mom. "Why can't I just stay home?"
"You're coming and that's final," she replied. "You haven't seen you grandmother in over a year."
"But why are we going now? Can't I just stay home? I can stay with the Smiths!"
"You just straighten up if you know what's good for you."
Whatever Mom might do to me couldn't be any worse than what she was doing to me now. I seriously considered jumping out the car at the next red light and making a run for it, but as luck would have it, we had nothing but greens all the way to the freeway onramp.
We managed to get to valet parking and then with me hauling four suitcases, we rushed to the baggage check, then to our gate. Back then, before the Islamonazis had declared war on the world, you just went straight to the gate. We barely made it and hadn't even buckled in before we were pulling away from the gate.
I got a window seat next to Mom, with my two sisters across the aisle from us in First Class. My mom poked me with her finger in the ribs a few times and told me what a pain in the butt I'd become lately. After that it was peace, or at least for me it was peace, as she was engaged with my siblings to the point where the man sitting in the next row back and across the aisle to my mother, had to ask her to lower her voice, a request met with indignation requiring the stewardess to tell her to quiet down.
It was a relatively short quick flight and once we landed Mom was back on my ass, as our luggage hadn't made it, which ultimately led to my uncle having to go back a retrieve the bags. I went with him and that gave me some relief, as I now had to endure my grandmother's harping as well.
"You should have stayed home," Uncle Roscoe told me. He was my uncle by marriage.
"I didn't know I was coming until literally the last moment," I said. "Otherwise I would have broken an arm or something."
"Well, there's no rush getting back. Let's just let those five hens cackle it out. They won't miss us. What do say we find some suitable entertainment."
"Sure, sounds good to me," I replied.
"Good, but first I have to know that I can trust you."
I'd heard something very similar that very morning, but surely Uncle Roscoe wouldn't...
"Uh, yeah. Sure you can trust me. Anything to stay away from there." Immediately I regretted saying 'anything,' and quickly added, "Well, almost anything."
"Okay, but you have to promise you won't say a word about this to anyone. I don't need a divorce. I do quite well staying away from your aunt and your grandmother long enough to retain my sanity. I don't need to be made destitute."
"I won't say anything, Uncle Roscoe."
"I'm counting on it, Braden. Not a word to anyone and that includes your father."
"We never talk anyway, so that won't be hard."
We drove along and into a residential area. He never said where we were going and I never asked. We pulled up to this modest home in a modest, but clean well kept neighborhood. We got out and walked up to the door. A nice looking young lady in her twenties answered the door and let us in. Two little girls, the oldest no more than seven, came running up to give Uncle Roscoe a hug.
"This is my nephew, Braden. Braden, this is...uh..."
"Brandy," she said with a hint of irritation at my uncle's hesitation. "And this is Mira and the one in just her panties, that's Cora."
"Well, we really don't have all night," my uncle interrupted. "Braden, help us out here and look after the girls." He then winked at me, took Brandy by the arm and led her into the back.
So here I was in a strange house with two little girls, the oldest dressed in a night shirt and the youngest dressed in just panties. The girls wanted me to play Candyland with them, so I did my best to entertain them while Brandy entertained my uncle. My uncle and Brandy weren't in the least bit subtle about what they were doing, what with Brandy crying out every few minutes and the bed knocking up against the wall. The girls didn't seem to notice the racket, but I had to listen it to it for over an hour. It would quiet down, get loud, quiet again, then got loud again.
After a while, Uncle Roscoe made his appearance, tucking in his shirttail as he went. He was followed by Brandy who now wore a thin robe. I thought we were ready to leave, but Brandy served us drinks, Uncle Roscoe scotch on the rocks, and me and the girls, a Sprite. They talked privately outside of earshot while I played yet another round of Candyland.
The game only half over, Brandy sent the two little girls to bed. Uncle Roscoe went to help her. Pretty soon I heard Brandy moaning again, then a bed squeaking and then Brandy hollering. Thirty minutes later Uncle Roscoe reappeared from the back, buckling and then zipping up as he made his way out the front door. I followed him to the car and we headed to the airport to retrieve the bags.
It was dark when we made it back to MeMa's. No one noticed that we were back or even how long we'd been gone until Uncle Roscoe tells my aunt, "Joanie, I'm going home."
"Okay, dear. I'll be along shortly," she answered and then returned to the gabfest where everyone seemed to be talking all at once.
"You're leaving me?" I asked at the door.
Uncle Roscoe turned and called back, "Joanie! Joanie! Braden is staying with us tonight."
My mother, looking cross, appeared cutting off my escape. "Braden, you've hardly spoken to MeMa," she fussed, not that I could've gotten in a word in edgewise if I had tried.
"We're playing a round or two of golf tomorrow," Uncle Roscoe told her. "Need an early start."
"Oh, you men!
"You'll need your bag, Braden," she said before returning to the chatter.
"Thanks, Uncle Roscoe, I was afraid I was going to be left here with them."
"You do play golf?" he asked once we were outside.
"Yeah. Sometimes I go with Dad."
"Very good. We'll play nine holes and then go see Brandy again."
"Sounds great!"
We ate dinner at his club, with me in a borrowed sports coat and Raymond's flip-flops, then hung around the stag bar. While he chatted with his cronies swapping lies, my thoughts were back in Glendale reliving the day with the Smith's. Some were good memories, others not so much.
Of course playing golf with Uncle Roscoe the next day was fun, but seeing I only had Ray's flip-flops, he had to buy me a pair of golf shoes at his club's pro shop. However, playing Candyland with Brandy's two little girls all day Sunday was pretty bad, but much better than being stuck at my grandmother's. Whenever we saw him, Uncle Roscoe was wandering about the house all day in just his boxer underwear. The girls were dressed much the same as I had seen them the night before. Brandy? I only saw her in her robe and it was pretty clear there wasn't anything underneath. I felt positively overdressed, but remained that way.
At one point, Cora, the youngest wanted me to help her go potty. I tried to decline, but she insisted that I go with her. So I follow the panty clad little angel into the bathroom where she shucks her panties and does her business. Finished, she darted from the bathroom in her birthday suit. Her mother and my uncle were fucking at that moment behind closed doors, so it was up to me to chase her down and get her panties back on.
Of course this turns into a game, her older sister, Mira, joining in the fray and losing her night shirt in the process. Now I had two naked little girls squealing and darting about eluding capture. I cornered them in the kitchen and thought I had them until one of them opens the back door and they both ran outside. The backyard only had a chain link fence, no hedges. With no furniture to run over, around or under, it was easier to catch them, and with one under each arm I hauled them back inside. I could only imagine what the neighbors might have thought!
Back inside, the fornicators were taking a break. Brandy wasn't too happy with her girls, but didn't say anything to me. She just got them dressed in play clothes and sent them outside to play. I finally had the opportunity to do nothing for a little while, until the two playful little girls came back in covered head to toe in dirt. I let them be until their mom reappeared from the her bedroom. She was annoyed with her girls and sent them off for a bath.
She asked my uncle to watch them while she herself showered in the other bathroom. So Uncle Roscoe and I watched the two little girls play in the bath. It quickly became apparent that he'd done this before and enjoyed the task. So, my uncle was a perv! He did a perfunctory job of washing faces and hair, but butts, he made sure they were both very clean. He didn't molest them, but he sure had fun washing buns.
After the baths, he dressed and we went back to the club where he camped out at the stag bar telling more lies with the other liars until he was wobbly. All too soon it was the hour of reckoning, and we headed to my grandmother's for Sunday dinner, where, as soon as he could, he abandoned me and made good his escape. I found my bedroom and hid out until the next morning.
After breakfast, I was forced to go with them to the "best" mall in town. Aunt Joanie joined us to add to my misery. Of course this mall was just like every other mall in the USA with the exact same stores, and just like the mall near Glendale, but we had to come there so MeMa could buy my sisters and me new wardrobes for the coming school year. Please shoot me! We did the exact same thing the next day at another mall. Okay, I needed some decent rags, as I would be starting ninth grade at Glendale High, and I must admit, my sisters had good taste; MeMa not so much. And the pajamas? Give me a break!
We stayed another two agonizing days at MeMa's. Like I said, they tended to talk over one another, my mother and grandmother in particular. It was like they had two separate and unrelated conversations going on at once. Add to that my sisters interjecting a third topic now and then, and it was mind numbing. And all the while they were droning on and on and on, the TV was on with some inane game show.
Thursday evening, Uncle Roscoe picked us up and dropped us off at the airport to go home. The return trip was much like getting there, with my mom running her mouth off nonstop. Good thing I learned long ago how to tune her out.
Please forward your comments with the form below. This one works! Thank you.