John had a hard time holding still, his eyes had closed, his head was leaned backwards, his hips trying to hump my face. I knew this was the time, his...moans got louder, his body squirming faster and more violently... I sucked, I sucked for dear life, like it was the only thing that would keep me alive. I was nursing my own son's penis like he had once nursed my breasts, awaiting the moment of truth, his milkish semen, like he had once sucked my breasts dry for motherly milk. His hands were. Mostly he dealt with servants, but would occasionally deal directly with an Armour, a Swift or a Cudahay. The family had never been hard up for food, not even the luxuries of the very rich: bittersweet almost black or creamy white chocolates from Holland, bristling sardines from the North Sea, huge legs of greasy lamb, standing rib roasts, and genuine Polish hams for Sunday dinners, raspberries and strawberries and blueberries and blackberries, the freshest finest fruits and vegetables, and. More

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