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I can't remember the last time we did it. It's just too much food for the two of us. Man, I'm getting hungry just looking at all this. What are we making tonight?" We?" he asked with a sideways smile. "I'm supposed to be cooking for you." What, I can't help?" I guess," he replied, giving me a friendly bump. "I just hope you can cook better than you play Mario Kart." Oh, that's it. I demand a rematch, but this time I'm going to sit in Mom's chair to keep you from cheating."He gave me a warm smile that made my stomach flutter. "I don't know where anything goes in this kitchen. Can you help me?" Sure."After we put away the food, except for a whole chicken, he pulled out a large skillet and a cutting board. "How about fried chicken?" I don't want anything that heavy. What about some kind of chicken and pasta?" I can do that. Want some steamed veggies with it?" Yes. That'll be my job," I said, and then we set to work. I chopped carrots, broccoli, and cauliflower, while a pot full of water. He ruefully paraphrased the old joke in his mind: It’s not paranoia if you saw them fucking.John was not used to this strenuous activity in this searing heat. He felt a little faint. His knees refused to hold him anymore. He spied a concrete bench just outside Sam’s dorm. He plopped his plump frame down. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow.“John, are you ok?”He looked up into the concerned face. Her face was bathed in perspiration. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and licked her lips. An image of her lips wrapped around his son’s cock popped into his head. He shook his head to clear it.“I’m fine. I just need to blow a little!”“Well, you take it easy. Sam and I can finish this!”He nodded agreement. She affectionately stroked his cheek, turned and continued on to the dormitory. John knew that Sam had gone that way a moment before carrying the last of his belongings. If he followed her now, would he again see his wife on knees sucking her son’s.
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