His voice, other than the panting, was steady and almost normal. But his almost casual use of the word “fuck” made it clear to his mother that he ...as almost out of control.“Nathan Patrick Wilson! What kind of nonsense are you spouting!?” said his mother, standing up. “Where is your father?”“Out front. I brought him home. I think he’s alive. He was breathing when I left Miss Flossie’s. I hit him with a can of paint while he was raping Miss Flossie.” Again, it was delivered like it was no big. She opened her mouth and started to breathe harder, her nails digging painfully into my back."Slower," she whispered hoarsely.I tried to control my lust, worried that she was still too weak. Eventually, we fell into a nice rhythm. Our movements became fluent and synchronized. I had the feeling that I was detached from reality and that only the two of us existed. Her moans became louder with every thrust. I was barely able to breathe. Then it came. She shuddered and cried out as I erupted inside. More

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