A family’s dark secrets come to light

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He stopped just outside the curtained dressing room. He could hear wet slurping sounds. He reached slowly out with his hand. He used his fingertips to create a small opening.

Allen’s back was partially to him. His starched and pressed jeans lay at his ankle. His enormous cock stuck out from his white cotton jockeys. At the end of that tool, on his knees, was his father, hungrily sucking Allen’s cock.

Carter felt a cold sweat break out all over him. He knew now what he suspected before. His dad was bisexual.

Frozen, Carter watched his father expertly bob on Allen’s cock. Somehow, he always knew. Little niggling bits of life’s scenes flooded into his mind. Johnny used to work at the costume shop. He recalled Caitlin’s husband, Johnny, and dad were unusually close. It was dad who suggested, nay, insisted they live in the coach house after they got married. The fact that Johnny had not fought marrying Caitlin. He suspected it was not his baby. However, that would get him closer to his lover, Tom Crafton.

Carter was a twenty first century person. What his father did was his business as long as it did not damage the family. Being bisexual was a life style choice. Maybe dad was gay. If so, in fairness to mom, he needed to let her know. What had Miss Curry said to him once? “You can’t run with the foxes and lay with the hounds!”

Allen groaned and grabbed his father’s head as he pumped his load into Tom Crafton’s mouth. Quickly, Carter stepped back and made his way back to the BDSM room. He returned the costume and strode through the shop into the light of day. He crossed the street and headed over to pick up Anne. Could he trust even Caitlin with this knowledge? Perhaps he should discuss it with Miss Curry first. She always had a way of leading you to a good place.

***

The evening turned cool as the sun set. Anne shivered a little as she made the short walk to Carter’s house. All she had was a sweater she wore that morning and her work uniform. She did not regret accepting Carter’s invitation but she was not prepared for the walk back to her dorm later. That is, if I have to go back to the dorm tonight she smiled to herself.

Carter had that mellow after reefer feel that you get after you get the munchies monkey off your back. He was not as high but still felt relaxed and mellow. He stole glances at Anne’s slim body as they chatted on the walk to his house. She was relatively tall for a woman. She was 5′ 6″ to 5′ 7″ with long bare slender legs. She could weigh no more than 120 lbs. or so. Her breasts were small but gave a soft swell to her chest. Her raven-haired ponytail swing freely around her shoulders.

Carter was debating which entrance to use. If he took her through the front, there was always the chance of meeting family members. That translated into his sister or his mother. He was beginning to realize the complications of having sexual relations with people who lived with you. They limited your opportunities to entertain other women. On the other hand, if he used the back entrance, Anne might think he was sneaking her in or was ashamed of her.

Carter took a deep breath and opened the iron gate leading to the side portico. He quickly entered his code into the security lock and opened the door.

To say Anne was impressed is to understate her feelings. Carter’s hand on her lower back ushered her into the huge foyer. It was easily as large as the whole first floor of her California home. As her eyes got used to the muted lighting, she looked up at the two story vaulted ceiling.

“Wow, she whispered this is really…BIG!”

“Most people say that when they step in here! Let me give you the tour. He showed her the remodeled ballroom and the solarium with the Jacuzzi. He commented that he would show her the garden but it was getting a little cool. As they walked back past the kitchen, Miss Curry stepped out and nodded.

“If y’all want some dinner, I ken whip sumthin’ up!”

“No thanks, Miss Curry, We ate at the Wing Joint and brought some in case we get hungry. By the way, Anne, this is Miss Curry. Miss Curry, Anne. Anne is a friend of mine.”

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