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Man like me has needs . . . Yeah . . ," he crooned "We need it, Brian. We need it." After a prolonged pause he continued. "Maybe your mama doesn't suck, but I'll bet you do. Bet you're good at it. Bet your mouth would feel good as pussy right about now. Maybe better. Hell yeah, maybe better." Like falling bricks, it struck Brian. Better! A better fuck than his own mother! A better whore. A better "girlfriend". Maybe Sig would want to face fuck him more than he wanted to fuck her pussy. Damn! How hot would that be? Spikes of lust pinged him. Better than pussy . . . than his own mother! He wasn't out to steal his mother's boyfriend; just prove that his throat was a better pussy—-and more available as well. He turned and buried his face in the man's crotch. Yesssss! He would suck and he would give deep throat. A better pussy. A better whore. Those very thoughts sent sexual electricity throughout his entire being."Ahhhh,, so you want that fifty bucks, do you?" Sig laughed. Brian's queer. I had taken a long hot shower and taken my time getting dressed all the while pondering my dream. It had been a dream. Wasn’t it? It felt so real. I shivered as I thought about how he had touched my skin, how he had kissed me. I was rubbing vigorously as I walked into the dinning room. Henry was seated at the head of a long table with a newspaper held up to his face, blocking my view. Iris was no where to be found, but by the smells of bacon and eggs cooking, I could tell she must have been in the kitchen. I forced myself to stop rubbing my arms and slapped a smile on my pale face. ‘Good morning, Mr. Fraser.’ Henry slapped the paper down quickly and smiled brightly at me. ‘Ah, there ye are, lassie.’ He stood as I approached the table. When I pulled out a chair a few away from him, he stopped me. ‘Nay, come, sit by me, lass.’ I gave my first real smile of the day and moved to sit on his left side. ‘That jet lag had ye asleep in no time, eh?’ I nodded as I watched him take his seat..
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