A guy orchestrates a break-in to fuck his mom and sister

I don’t think she realized how wrapped around her finger I was in that moment. I would have pushed Scarlett Johansson into a bus if she’d’ve asked me to right then. I still don’t know how but somehow, I managed to simply offer her my arm, offer her a smile and say, “Right this way, my lady.” Smiling as she took my offered arm, Rheta and I walked to the table where I pulled out her chair, and pushed it in once she had sat down.

It was when Mom stood up that I remembered that she was there, and still in just her kimono. The fact that I’d forgotten all of that should tell you how taken aback I was by Rheta’s appearance. “It would appear that I’m slightly underdressed,” she said as she gave us both a once over. “You two start without me while I go change.” Not bothering to hear our half-hearted attempts to say we’d wait, Mom left for upstairs to change.

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Turning back to Rheta, I slid around the table, taking her plate and the spatula with me, so that I could serve her some lasagna. “Say when,” I said as I hovered the utensil over the pan and pulled back to see how much my sister wanted to eat. “The garlic bread should just about be done, I put it in just before I heard you come down,” I informed her, being able to think clearly once I wasn’t looking at her. Making my way back to the oven, I turned on the light and looked inside to see the dusting of cheese we’d put on starting to bubble. Taking them out and dumping them into the basket I just realized Rhe had left beside the oven for this very reason, I brought the garlic bread to the table and put a couple pieces on her plate. Serving myself a similar sized portion of lasagna as I’d given Rheta, I picked up her glass. “Drink?”

Pointing to the cupboard under the island, she surprised me by saying, “There’s a bottle of red wine in the island that should go great with the lasagna.” Neither of us had ever really been big on wine, Rheta rarely having any alcohol at all, so the fact that she was suggesting it in the first place was compounding shock upon shock for this evening.

Giving her a raised eyebrow, I asked, “And what will our other date say about that? And I’m not sure that, if you don’t want to have tonight get too crazy, having wine is a good idea.” Despite my words, I still fetched the wine and the corkscrew to open it.

“It was Mom’s idea to have the wine,” Rheta responded. “And as for not wanting to get too crazy, the wine makes for a great scapegoat.” The look in her eyes was like she was daring me to challenge this, while also saying that tonight was going to get a little crazy. If we only knew.

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