“Serves you right for taking all the hot water for the shower, leaving me none!” I defended my actions, as I feinted one way and scrambled the other. Shannon at a disadvantage, with one hand to hold her single garment in place, had a hard time changing directions. But then at a pre-arranged signal, the swig of beer that I took as I stood still for a moment, she clutched at the bottle, missed (on purpose) caught the knot of my own terry cloth skirt [kilt?] and OOPS! off it came! There I was naked and erect in front of the both of them, one surprised, the other not so much, since she was in on the gag. Now to cover up the scandalous scam, but not the scamp and his rampant rod and scrunchy scrotum.
Holding the towel as hostage, Shannon in her most serious warning tones, proclaimed, “Give me my goddamn beer or you’re not getting your lion-cloth back. I swear I will smack you so hard on your bare butt that my imprint will last past dinner!”
“Just teasing momma Shannon, tasted good!” I said handing her the brew. I turned to mom Danni, like I was naked before her every day, “Jeez! I was just having a little fun. She didn’t have to be such a bitch about it.” and walked back toward the bathroom without a stitch on. Mom Danni got a good gander at my stanch man-stander and gonads, then a vista of my muscled buttocks. Now it was planned, but you don’t use the ‘B’ word in the home of the double moms and get away with it, especially if you’re applying it to one of them.
“You are a mean male pig!” Shouted Shannon, who used an insult that was at least thirty years out of date, and she did slap her hand on my retreating cheek, leaving welts. It had to look real, like we were not play-acting. It stung, but I laughed and ran to the shower. Mission accomplished! An eyeful of my Eiffel Tower and an added bounty of buns for mom Danni. So now she had to be well aware of the maturity of her son and how he had grown into a man, and what his manhood looked like grown large as well.
In the meanwhile, I thought some more about the enigmatic last statement Susie had made in the garden to me, but I was not really clear of what had meant by it. She said to ask my father about it, so on the night she was out; ‘to the movies with some gal-pals’, but was actually down the block with Shannon going down on her; I was sitting and watching a ball game with dad and I quoted the remark, or close to it, to him and sought his input. It turned out that was a smart move, one that had been planted as a seed by Sue, to lead me into more than just that messy kiss and sexy squeeze. Thus I came to acquire the secret that she had deliberately hinted at and she was hoping would open the door our connecting, in more ways than one!
“OH! God, that. . well. . you’re old enough,” said dad “When I met Susie, of course she’s younger than me as you know, and way more hip. She was into something’s that I hadn’t ever tried, pot. She had this little plot of land on an old farm; she had charmed the fella who owned it into loaning to her. I think she might have screwed him once or twice, to get him to go along, but she never actually said so. Anyway, she grew veggies, tomatoes, beans, corn; in the corner of the field far away from the road, ’bout a quarter of a mile, you had to walk to get there. But between the rows of corn, she raised weed. Not weeds, weed, grass, pot; and she had a private stash just for herself, didn’t sell, just smoked her own.”