He had turned a lousy game off early one night and come down the back stairs to get a snack. The whispered voices had intrigued him. He had stopped t... listen. He would always be grateful that he had remained quiet. There was more than whispers, there was also heavy breathing. He froze, could they be doing it? Could they be fucking? He knew that it would be wicked to spy on his mother if she was making love. It would almost be i****t to gaze lustfully upon the pussy that had expelled him. Each on our usual chair and we had the usual evening small talk while we ate. During this time, I noticed Abby giving me glances that were a bit different from what I'm used to from her. I couldn't figure out what they meant or how she was feeling. Again, she behaved as though nothing happened less than thirty minutes prior.I intended to talk to Abby, but as soon as she finished eating, she excused herself and got up, took her plate to the kitchen sink and went up to her room. It was my turn to. More

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