Back in the house, he saw his mother and Jean Marks cleaning up the remains of breakfast, and heard the dishwasher going. This kind of thing could tur... a worried guy into a juice head, he decided, but voted against a beer on top of hotcakes with syrup. He compared the two--his mother tall and willowy, but with flared hips and long, eye-catching legs, Jean small and cute, put together like a miniature Venus. Mom's hair was black as night, and Jean's was flaming red.They seemed to be getting to. ’ ‘Ida, I need you.’ He rolled his hips up. Her hands paused. ‘No, what you said last night.’ Ida looked desperate. ‘He never says it.’ ‘I love you, Ida,’ Jon said between gritted teeth as her hand began to move faster, nails scrapping the sensitive flesh. He drew air in through his teeth, breathing heavily through his nose. He reached his hand under her skirt, fingering her. He ripped her shorts off, panties and all and threw them into a pile. Her shirt and bra were next. He was not one to let. More

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