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“Slater, damn it you’re scaring Turbo.”
“Turbo?” he says, still trying to deliver the poor piggie death by dildo. He looks up, staring at me likeI’mthe crazy one. “Ace? You name your rats?”
“It’s not a rat. It’s a pet Guinea pig.”
He blinks. His gaze slowly travels from me to Turbo and back again. “Babe, it’s a rat—a killer rat.”
“It is not,” I mutter. “For God’s sake, get up. You’re acting like a scared little girl.” I walk into the room around my dad—who is staring at like Slater like he might fill the man with some buckshot.
Slater doesn’t like that. I can see it in the way his eyes narrow at me. He leans back, which is good and bad. At least his ass isn’t high up in the air now. His cock is easier to look at now. It’s still just as full, long, and beautiful. All of that is good, but the bad is my mother can also see him, too. I lean down to pick up a terrified Turbo just as a large cracking noise echoes in the room. I look up to see my desk crumbling before my very eyes.
“Son of a bitch!” Slater yells, trying to jump off the desk before it hits the ground.
I manage to grab poor Turbo before he can be crushed in the chaos and step back. Slater jumps off to the side. His leg slams down on the floor and I figure that’s got to hurt. This whole scene is mortifying—especially since my father seems to have gone into a sort of frozen shock and my mother has been self-proclaimed hypnotized by my boyfriend’s cock. Still, I can’t stop myself from admiring how his muscles flex as his toned body moves.
God he’s a work of art.
“Marigold, I think you should stop seeing him.”
“What?” I gasp, turning to look at my mother. Of all the crap I thought she might tell me about Slater, it wasn’t this.
“Honey, he’ll split you apart,” she murmurs, still in a dick-induced haze.
“Damn it, Lovey,” Dad snaps. “Son, if you want to keep all your appendages, you’ll get some clothes on or else you’ll be carrying your junk around just like you are that fake one you got in your hands.”
Slater looks down at the dildo in his hand as if he’s just realizing he is still holding it. He throws it down. I walk over to him, grabbing his pants that are on the floor and toss them to him. Slater frowns at me, gives Turbo an evil look, but puts his pants on. I join in with Mom’s hypnotized state as he pushes his dick in his pants. I really shouldn’t be able to get turned on with my parents standing so close by and a Guinea pig in my hands—and yet I do.
“Let’s get downstairs,” Dad says putting his hand as Mom’s back and leading her to the door. “Son, you come downstairs you better have all your damn clothes on.”
“Yes, sir,” Slater says, clearing his throat.
“Come on, Marigold,” Dad scolds.
“But I—”
“You’re coming downstairs,” he orders, not leaving room for argument.
I sigh and look over at Slater. “Do you see what you’ve done? Now my dad is mad at me. Why couldn’t you just go out the window like a normal boyfriend?” I complain, walking toward the door.
“Because I’m not a boy, baby. I’m a man,” he growls back.
“Yeah, a man who was scared of a little Guinea pig,” I huff.
“It’s not a Guinea pig! It’s a damn rat.”
“I’m kind of sad you made him put pants on now. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything quite like that,” Mom says, shaking her head mournfully. “You know, Marigold, I saw this guy on a TV show once that said he had the world’s largest dick. It was like thirteen and a half inches and over eight inches wide. Slater might miss the width a bit but I’m thinking he could give the guy a run for his money in length.
“Lovey—”
“Don’t worry, Jan. There’s no way I’d want something like that. Your dick is just fine for me, sweetheart.”
“Gee thanks,” Dad says, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Can we not discuss my dad’s or my boyfriend’s dick anymore?” I almost cry.
“I’m okay with that,” Dad agrees.
“It’s not that I want to discuss it as much as I can’t get it out of my head,” Mom says. “Speaking of heads—”
