"Ugh," John groaned, looking bleary-eyed at the eggs and bacon in front of him.
"What's wrong, bro?" Kelly asked as she let the nails of one hand dry while she ate breakfast. Kathy looked over her shoulder, standing at the stove, and smiled at him. "Feeling bad, Johnny?"
John nodded. He had watched Ferris Bueller and snuck his way out of enough school days to be able to play "sick" that was an almost Oscar-worthy performance. "Yeah, I don't feel too good, Mom," he said.
His mom kept smiling. "Well...why don't you go upstairs and lie in bed," she said, a knowing glint in her eyes. "I'll bring up your breakfast later, if you're feeling better."
"Okay," John nodded, standing from the table and turning as quickly as possible, trying to hide his erection as best as possible from his sisters. He made his way up to his room, smiling to himself. Was it possible that something might happen between him and his mom? Maybe, he thought as he slipped her robe off, throwing it over the arm of the couch and sliding beneath his covers. He lay in bed for a good twenty or thirty minutes before his mom's footsteps approaching the bottom of the stairs to the attic.
She came up the stairs, and John saw that she was still wearing the scanty kimono, carrying a tray with eggs, bacon, and a glass of orange juice on it. "How's my little sick boy feeling?" she asked, kind of reminding John of some horny nurse in a porno movie. |