He’d show his mother how much he loved her. He pretty much knew she’d love what he had between his legs. She probably wouldn’t want or need anot...er man after seeing what her son’s dick looked like. She wouldn’t need to go any further with the dickheads she fucked.The door opened and Mary Boyd walked in.“Peter, are you home? Something smells good.”“Hi, mom! I made dinner for us. Go get yourself comfortable and meet me in the kitchen.”“You’re such a good boy. I’m a little drunk. The boss splurged. I found that the gown I hadon had been replaced with a set of clothes. I dropped the towel slid onthe pair of white cotton panties with a little pink bow on the front.Then I picked up the bra and knew just what to do in putting it on and Ituned it around after hooking it and slid my arms through the strapsafter adjusting them.Then I pulled on the jeans, they seemed way too tight but when I zippedand buttoned them and looked in the mirror. I saw they no tighter thanErin wears hers. I turn to. " Just then the kettle started to whistle so I got up and poured the boiling water onto the tea leaves and got a couple of cups from the cupboard."The first question that comes to mind is do I still call you Ron or should I call you 'Dad'?" Ron looked like I had hit him between the eyes, "what makes you think I'm your father Jimmy?" You told me when you walked into the hospital ward the other day; this is the problem I urgently need to discuss with you. Although you didn't say it out loud I. Back home, I could have easily talked my way out of the situation. My voice and my mannerisms were such, that in many cases, most men had backed down. If it would come down to a shoving match, there was not much doubt that I could at least stand my ground.But I was in a foreign country. I was not aware of all the local rules or systems of hierarchy. I had no idea of how the man was connected. He held the upper hand and he knew it."American," I said. Then off the cuff, I said the name of the man.
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