“What the hell is going on here?” I snapped. When I realized he was stroking what was then a rather minuscule erection, my hand joined his and I helped him get off, as if it was a motherly duty. You jizz He put an arm over my waist. “Luke is cool, Mom,” Clara said plaintively. I wanted him to finish off, but I wanted to watch him gazing at every inch of my body while he did so. I made sure to speak loudly so he could hear me over the infernal punk rock tunes my husband and I had the misfortune to have introduced him to at a very young age. Other than a brief “fling” with one of the doctors, I hadn’t ever become remotely attached, committed as I was
