A twisted little family
A text message lights up Tim's phone:
Found our long-lost son, honey. Be home for dinner?
It had started as a twisted kind of joke. Tim and Storm, the picture perfect couple. NOT. Jokes about pot roast for dinner as clothes are literally ripped off. The hilarious idea of feet up reading the paper when Tim is bruising Storm's ass bad enough to make her want to cry when she sits down. Storm as June Cleaver, when Tim has her chained to the bed and is fucking her so slow, she wants to scream.
It's a good life.
Next on Tim's phone is a picture.
Really, Storm is laughing her ass off. Patrick, the kid's name is, could be their son, if he were a little younger. But a little younger and he'd be jailbait. Mmm, sexy.
Yspls Tim texts back. Ask him over 4 dinner 2nite ;-) ur making lasagna ok? The real question is, if Storm's wanting some action on this little piece of potato salad, how are they going to get him involved? It's not like either of them could just go up to him and ask him to come to a fetish club so they could pretty much pillage his pretty face, right? Dilemmas. What are two pervs to do?
Oh, Tim. Really, you were worried about that? Storm has that shit taken care of. She's a straightforward gal. And thankfully, this is 2009 and not fucking 1950. So, an hour later, Tim gets a text telling him a room number, and then there's a blurry cameraphone shot of Storm cupping the back of someone's head as he eats out her pussy. Tim better hurry. The lasagna's getting cold.
Oh damn. Check that out. No fucking wonder Tim's all ridiculous over her. This is the shit she pulls? Kick-ass. He's there as soon as he can be, give or take fighting his way through traffic. He gives his name, gets his key, and gets to the room. "Honey, I'm home..." Look at this, dinner's still being served! Tim stretches out next to Storm on the bed, running a hand through the kid's hair as he kisses Storm. "How's it going, Stormy?"
"Fuck," she murmurs into his mouth. She's flushed all over, orgasm-blissed and still horny. "This is Patrick, honey. He's bi and he likes to be told what to do. You might know him, oh, shit!" There's a pause when Storm comes again, this time from Patrick's fingers and not his tongue. Patrick, the boy, is smiling up at them, his cheek on Storm's thigh. "F-from such shows as the 4400 and ... Uh... shit."
"I was on Boy Meet World, but I don't count that." He's got a sunny smile, too, even if he's a little nervous. Tim fucking Commerford. Rage! Storm said it was cool, but you never know, right? "Hi."
"Give him a kiss, honey," Storm urges. "I wanna see some dude-on-dude action."
"Hey," Tim greets. He's a lovable guy, remember? Or at least likeable. Storm gets one more kiss, and then Tim's moving down to where Patrick is so he can fist a hand in his hair and turn him. "That was that mutant show I never got around to watching. Er. Sorry about that. Let's see how Storm's pussy tastes." That sunny grin's directed at Tim so he can lick into Patrick's mouth.
"Shit." Storm runs her toe up Tim's back, her hand still in Patrick's hair. "That is sexy."
It actually really is. Tim's kind of huge, he's got big hands and they kind of move Patrick whether he has a choice or not. He wasn't lying when he told Storm he likes being told what to do. He likes ... well, pretty much everything. His jeans are getting mighty tight about now - they were before, of course, but now, it's getting kind of unbearable.
"Sweetie?" Tim's looking at Patrick as he talks to Storm. "How many times did Patrick here make you come already? Does this pretty mouth get you off?" He's already unbuttoning Patrick's jeans, unzipping them, pushing one of those big hands down inside to cup Patrick's cock. "Because I was thinking I'd fuck him while he eats your pretty pussy." They know what's best for someone like Patrick. They'll get along just fine.
Watching how Patrick groans out a laugh, Storm smirks. "I lost count after seven, I think. He's got such a sweet mouth." She runs a finger along his lips. "I love watching men fuck. I just ... I really love watching sodomy." Tim knows Storm's a fan, obviously.
Patrick stares back at Tim. This is ... really happening. It really is. It's like something he'd think about as he jerks off. He saw Tim at Lollapalooza, for God's sake. He shivers and he doesn't say anything. The dynamic suits him just fine. Yes, sir, yes, ma'am. He's your boy.
Tim looks at Patrick with one of those women. SHRUG! expressions. "Well! I don't mind doing what the lady says, do you? Get to work, and I'll get to work." Which means getting lube, getting Patrick's pants down. He has one of those moments where he realizes he should probably ditch his own clohes, but Patrick is new and shiny and hand-picked by Storm. Fingers that are slicked down in short order nudge between Patrick's ass cheeks, and Patrick can feel a smile-shaped breath on the back of his shoulder. "We'll order in some Chinese later, okay?"
"I love Chinese too." Storm's grin is heavy-lidded. "Do you, pretty boy?" Her knees bracket Patrick's shoulders and she cards her fingers through his hair to urge him closer. "I bet you do."
"Yes, ma'am. I do. Garlic chicken's my fav- Oh - f-favorite?" For a second, Patrick rests his cheek against Storm's thigh. "Wow." He does, however, know what he's supposed to do and after sucking in a deep breath, he presses kisses to Storm's pussy. He knows how to make her come. Truth told, it's easy.
"You say that like you're not sure, Patrick." Tim pushes in a second finger, knowing Patrick's not quite ready for it. "Don't stop, Sunshine. You don't want to disappoint the lady, you know. She bites." After a moment or two of stretching his fingers out in Patrick, he leans in to ask, "How would you feel if I was licking you, and got distracted, huh?" His other hand slides around Patrick's thigh to wrap around his cock.
"Um," Patrick laughs out. "I ... would be pretty disappointed, s-sir." Wow, those callouses were pretty amazing. And he kind of really likes being called Sunshine, he won't lie. Before he says more, he realizes he shouldn't be talking. He should be ... well, licking. "Sorry, ma'am." And he presses his mouth to Storm's pussy, licking into it.
"Shit. Good boy." Storm lets her head fall back against the headboard and she smiles at Tim. Good find, huh? Totally a good find.
High five Storm Large! Tim ruffles the back of Patrick's head, pushing his face against Storm's pussy. The ups and downs of only having two hands: one of them is pushing at Patrick with three fingers, while the other can't quite decide if it should stroke Patrick's cock (it's a nice cock, he hasn't seen it yet, but it feels nice!) or if he should do the whole pants-condom thing. "Think you can please her if I'm fucking you?"
Patrick nods. He can. Or he'll try really hard to. It is, after all, what he's been tasked with. He would really hate to disappoint his new friends so quickly. Because, honestly, he just ... this is a great situation. Win/win.
"Good boy," Storm croons. Her back arches and she takes a deep breath as she comes again. "Oh, fuck, yes. I want him to fuck me when you fuck him, yeah, Timmy? Say yes, dude. You gotta say yes to that shit."
"You heard her. Saddle up, buck." Tim smacks Patrick's ass with his free hand, then grabs a condom from where he'd dropped the box, earlier. It's dropped on Storm's belly for Patrick to grab, and then he pulls his fingers out too, urg, sorry, and whangs out a condom for himself. Oh yeah, this one's cute. See how he is after, see what Storm thinks of him when they have their tete-a-tete over beer and burgers. Right now, though? Heigh-ho! "Ready, kiddo?"
"You have no idea, sir," Patrick laughs. Even just stroking over his cock to get the condom on was torture. On his knees, one hand balancing his weight, the other holding his cock at the base, he gives Storm a smile. "I am really looking forward to this, ma'am."
"Me too, baby." Storm raises her legs, spreading them, spreading herself out for them both. "Let's do this thing." She's so wet she fucking glistens.
With a gasp, Patrick watches himself sink into her. "Oh... wow."
"Yeah," Tim agrees, looking over Patrick's shoulder. "That's fucking sexy." He reaches an arm around Patrick to rub his thumb against Storm's clit. Hey there, pretty lady. His other hand holds the base of his cock, guiding it up against Patrick's ass. There's that lament about not having enough hands again, but one settles on Patrick's hip and the other on Storm's, and with a low sound, pushes forward, one into another.
"Yeah." Storm arches her back, head back, smiling at them with the slitted eyes. "That's right. Fuck him into me, Timmy. C'mon. Yeah."
Patrick has his head down, eyes shut as he settles into being filled, into having that heat around his cock. Wow. He can't move without there being pleasure. It's ... really awesome, actually. He knows he shouldn't talk too much, but if he could, he'd say how amazing it feels, how good. How awesome it feels. How he's really glad he met Storm in that bar and that she kind of blew his mind.
"Watch it," Tim whispers in Patrick's ear. "See how your cock goes into her? Just like that. Feel it, huh? It's good, it's so fucking good." He bites the back of Patrick's neck, rocking his hips up, pushing him further into Storm. "Know how I know? I can feel it in you." One of his hands covers Patrick's, and he brings it down to rub at Storm's clit, their fingers together. Storm herself gets a glance, hot and grinned over Patrick's shoulder, and Tim tips her a wink before snapping his hips up into Patrick's body. Let's see how he likes that.
"Oh, fuck!!" Storm arches up, bracing herself on the headboard. She's gonna come. She knows it. She can feel it. Two men for her pleasure. There is nothing not good about that. "Fuck me! C'mon and fuck me!"
"God." It's all Patrick can manage at the moment. He clenches around Tim's cock because it's kind of this close to being too much. He'd draw back, take a breather, except there's nowhere to go. Storm's below him, around him, Tim's in him, behind him. He's pinned and it's amazing. He groans, rocked forward, not even trying to rock back. He just moves as he's moved. When he comes, he's going to come so hard.
Tim draws his hips back enough that Patrick can move, can fuck Storm and then fuck himself back onto Tim's cock, but when Patrick does move, Tim's right up behind him to give him that extra push. Hell, he doesn't even give a shit if he gets off at all. This is more about breaking in this little ray of Sunshine that's caught between them than anything else. Oh yeah, and then there's the part where Storm looks like a fucking porn star when she comes like that, all loose and sexy as fuck and any dude would be lucky to see that, let alone be the reason for it.
When Patrick gets that; that he can move and that no matter how he moves it feels good, it's kind of like a revelation. It makes it hard to breathe and hard to make any sounds that sound anything like please and thank you and something that could be like keep me forever, okay? Patrick's face is a picture of pleasure and when he feels Storm come, well, he has to stop, or he'll come too.
And Storm comes with a shout, clenching around Patrick's cock and raking fingers down two sets of broad shoulders. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!" Oh, fuck, yes. Fuck yes. "Go, you assholes! Don't stop. Oh, Jesus, I wanna DP. Soon. That's an order."
Shuddering, Patrick groans and starts to move again. "Permission... oh, God, permission to come?"
Tim grins at Storm, bracing his palms on her thighs and fucking Patrick, not giving him a choice whether to move or not. "Should we let him? He wants to, pretty bad... you think he deserves it yet, sweetie?" A hand skims under Storm's leg to find bruises that aren't tender but might still ache if he squeezes them, feeling the way the muscles in Patrick's back tighten as he moves them both. "Or do you want both of us fucking you now?"
God, Tim is an asshole. That's part of why Storm freaking thinks she's found her soul mate. "I dunno, man," she tells him with a breathless grin. "You can let our boy come, then you can fuck me til you come. We'll do DP another time. It'll be like fucking Christmas." Pun very much intended.
As they're discussing all this, Patrick shakes between them, head down, eyes shut tight. He won't come til he has permission, but God, he might die waiting.
Tim snarks out a laugh, nipping at the back of Patrick's shoulder. "Okay, Sunshine. I want my turn, so fuckin' come." He smacks Patrick's ass, the sound sharp and sudden in the heated air of the room, jarring him into Storm and letting out a rough, growled sound against Patrick's hair for his efforts.
"Thank you!" Oh, God, yes, thank you. It's with something like relief that Patrick stops holding back and he just rides it out, letting himself come, letting himself feel the pleasure that's that much sharper and that much sweeter with double the sensations. All he can do is cry out almost helplessly.
"Ooh, there's a good boy." Letting go of the headboard, Storm pets over his hair, down his neck. "Good boy. Shit, he's pretty, honey. I think we should keep him."
"Give him a kiss, Storm," Tim says softly. "He's done what we wanted, let him have a kiss." Where did that box of condoms go? Because Tim totally needs to put on a new raincoat if he's getting in on Storm, okay? When he pulls his hips back, it's with a shudder and a low groan of his own, and he skims a hand down Patrick's back. "Relax, Sunshine. It's recess time for you."
But it's kissing first and Storm's kind of a great kisser. Is she a cougar? Okay, he won't ask that. That's ... pretty not cool. Then Patrick falls to the side and shucks the condom and he gets ready to just kind of ... watch. But hey, there are the condoms and he pulls one out, opens it and gestures to Tim - he'll put it on him if he wants? Because Tim's got a great cock so far as Patrick's been able to tell. This whole day is pretty heady, actually.
Really? Honestly? He's offering to suit Tim up? Excellent. Tim grins his assent and tips his hips up for Patrick to roll the condom down. It's also a secondary permission to touch Tim's cock at all, and he hopes that Patrick realizes that. "She's pretty sexy, isn't she? I mean, she gets me off like a motherfucker, that's for sure." While Patrick takes care of the condom, Tim rubs his fingertips between Storm's legs, feeling how wet she still is. "Fuck, I'd love to lick you off before fucking you, Storm. For real. You wanna see me do that, Patrick?"
"Yes, sir, I do." Patrick grins wide and flushed. Oh, boy. When he was growing up in Minnesota, there was nothing like this. "I really do. And ma'am is so sexy. She's beautiful."
"And he's a sweet talker," Storm says, smirking. "Get your filthy mouth on me, Timmy. Shit, you're gonna make me come again. I'm gonna fucking sleep like a baby tonight, no joke. I can't wait to bruise his ass, baby. I wanna fuck it with a strap-on, I wanna watch you fuck him, I want - " Shit, she's a font of ideas! "Kiss my pussy, already, fuck, I'm gonna come thinking about it."
"She is beautiful," Tim agrees, diving down between Storm's thighs in a display of crude humour and giving the lady what she wants. Darwin's theory of the female species is definitely right. With his palms against the backs of Storm's legs, fingertips pressed against residual bruises, he licks her in long, hard strokes, pausing at the top of each to circle her clit with the tip of his tongue. "You're a greedy girl, Storm Large. Might have to remind you why the backs of your legs hurt."
"Oh, shit, you asshole." Yeah, that touch of pain just makes everything sharper. Storm hisses out a breath. If Tim wants to go after her again, she won't complain. Well, she will complain, but she won't mean it. It's less than a minute and she arches off the bed with a shout. She holds to Patrick's hand - don't want him to feel left out. "YES!"
Tim can't help but smile at that. He likes Patrick, and will probably like him a whole lot more once they've got food and beer and can actually get to know this cute kid. Because he is cute. "You ready for the rest of me, Stormy?" He crawls up her body in kisses and bites, and she can taste herself on his mouth when he kisses her. "Ready for this?" Tim holds the base of his cock and rubs it up and down Storm's pussy. "Hold onto him. Tell him he can touch, if he wants to."
"You heard him," Storm grunts, free hand in Tim's swirly cones to pull him in. "Fuck me, you manbeast. Fuck me. Come on, baby. Come closer." Damn. This might make her a cockwhore, but she really loves being fucked. And Tim's cock is different from Patrick's - thicker. And her moans got lower, deeper, the further he got in. "Maybe you should finger Tim's ass, baby."
"Yes, ma'am. Is that all right, sir?" Patrick asks, because that sounds great too. Storm has, like, a lot of great ideas. Patrick can do whatever either of them want. He's amenable like that.
Tim yanks his hips back from Storm, kneeling back on the bed, and he points a finger at Patrick. "No." It turns on Storm. "Don't speak for me." His hand comes to rest on Storm's shin. "Okay?" With just a hint of sheepishness, because he didn't mean to sound that pissed. Sorry guise. Tim's buying Chinese later! "What you two discussed before I got here is fine, but remember, I'm part of this, too. I have limits."
"I'm sorry," Patrick says immediately, pulling back, sitting up at the edge of the bed. Crap. Crap.
"You told me to tell him he could touch," Storm says, still flushed but thrown right out of the mood, thanks, Tim. "We learned not to touch the mighty Tim's ass. Got it. Jesus."
"You." Patrick. "Stay right there. It's fine. Me and Storm never talked about it because it never came up. She didn't know, and you sure as hell didn't know. So, okay. I'm sorry. Surprise, I don't do pen. And I'm mighty compared to you, lady." He nudges Storm's leg. "So, now that nobody's in the mood anymore, who wants dinner?"
"We're gonna talk about limits over dinner so that shit doesn't happen again." Storm mutters that as she sits up. Goddamn it, she was wanting to spend the whole night fucking. "We should eat downstairs. You game?" She asks Patrick, carding through his hair before she stands, stretching. She still feels tingly and pinches her nipples. Screw wearing a bra.
"Um... if you guys want me to go? I can totally bail if you'd rather? Ma'am has my phone number and stuff, so I ... I mean, I don't want to be in the way." Patrick also doesn't want to cause problems. Though, God, he'd love to talk music with Tim. Maybe another time.
"No, seriously. You're staying. Where the hell are my pants?" Storm gets a pointed look. She's goddamned right they're going to talk limits over dinner. Especially now that there's a third person in the mix. "Do you even like being called Ma'am? Because I totally don't get off on being called Sir. Call me Tim, okay? We can go downstairs or we can stay up here, it's your call." He hops into his pants and sits next to Storm. "We've gotta talk about him," Patrick, "and what just happened. I'm not about to get all hardass on anyone. It was... just kind of a surprise."
"It's just your ass," she told him, t-shirt tight over her unfettered boobs, her jeans pulled back on, hair pulled back from her face and fingercombed. "Hey," she says to Patrick, who's dressed again too, cute as shit in a t-shirt and jeans. "Why don't you go down and get us a table. Mama and Dad need to talk a little bit, then we'll be down, okay?" She cups his cheek. Don't worry.
"Yeah, sure. Okay." Patrick doesn't say 'sir' or 'ma'am,' since apparently he screwed up there, too. "I'll get us a table." His smile isn't quite so bright, but it's there. And he lets himself out. He chews at a cuticle on his way to the elevator. Things were going so well, too.
Storm stuffs her hands in her pockets and looks at Tim. "Well?"
"Where do you wanna start, Hot Mama?" Tim parks on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry about the freakout. Yeah, it's just my ass, but it's my ass. And I like that guy, I say we keep him around and see if we didn't screw - okay, no wait, I - didn't screw things up too badly. What do you want to know?" He holds an arm out in invitation. C'mere, Mama, let Dad give you a little lovin'.
Dammit. He's kind of cute when he's being all apologetic like that. "I don't get guys who can fuck guys but don't want shit in their ass." An observation as she shuffles over, standing between his legs, tugging his head so that his face is between her boobs. "He's fucking cute as shit. And he's nice when you get him talking. And he likes kinky shit. He's kinda perfect for us when you're not being a dick." Said now without heat, more teasing. "I wanna keep him too. I want to know what's gonna keep you from going postal."
"It's just a thing, okay?" Muffled between her awesome tits. Tim cups both of them and smushes them around his face. "It's one of my only things." His arms hook around her waist, and he looks up at her. "I like you a hell of a lot more than like, getting together whenever we can to fuck each other into the wall. And when you're out recruiting cute - yes, he's fucking cute - guys to come and get their kink on with us, then... I don't know. I think it's something a little more than just sex."
"What?" His face needs to be out of her boobs so they can have this talk face to face. "Mr. Cleaver, are you getting fresh with me? Wanting to make me a legit woman? I already told you I would make your asparagus just like you liked." Because, yeah, Storm likes Tim too. A hell of a lot.
"I would like to hold hands in public," Tim says primly, cupping Storm's face now to pull her down into a kiss. "Of the real boyfriend-girlfriend variety. I mean, I could take you out on a romantic date with a vibe in your pussy and a plug in your ass, and you could kiss but not touch. Plus, if Sunshine's going to get serious with us, we should have some kind of stability." There's a flash of embarrassment. "I've got two kids, I know how to be a Dad." And at least that's out of the way, too.
Wait, what? Tim's got real kids? Not just a kinky would-be son-who-he-fucks? (which is hot as shit, btw. Storm's all over a little bit of faux-incest-kink, mmkay?) "... and you didn't tell me that shit, why? Cuz if we're going steady, I need to know." Shit. It's enough to make a girl's head spin. Going steady with a guy with spawn and a boy downstairs waiting for them to boot.
"Xavier and Quentin." Tim digs his iPhone out and shows Storm a few pictures. "They live in South Africa with their mom. She's an AIDS doctor. We do video chat whenever we can." The phone's tucked away and Tim mock-scowls at her. "Why the shit would I have told a fuck-partner about my kids unless I was expecting more out of it. And hey, look what I'm asking for! Aleece and me haven't been together since just after Quentin was born. We're not enemies and there's no drama there. I think Aleece'll be relieved to know I'm dating someone, anyway." He looks at Storm, very seriously. "Do you want to be my girlfriend?"
"Easy, tiger. Easy." She pets over his hair. "You just surprised me is all. You got a saint of an ex-wife to boot. Shit. Enough to make me feel a little bit like an asshole." Since her only real accomplishment of merit of late was a video for a song about her pussy. And then she just looks at Tim for a second. She likes his jerk-face, even. "If you want me, I'm yours," she tells him and it's said quiet and sincerely and she smiles, just a little bit.
"My ex is awesome. It's just that I was doing music and she had research to do, and it just wasn't going to work." Tim shrugs. "You're not an asshole. Me and her were both really into politics and amnesty, research on poverty control and... you know." He's no saint, that's for sure. He just works hard for what he believes in. "Alright, Mama. Let's go get the kid and get some dinner, okay? I'll even totally hold your hand in front of everyone."
"Aww, you big fucking softie." Storm smiles as she steps back and she holds out her hand so he can take it. Then they can walk downstairs and find Patrick who's sitting at a table and looking kind of like the kid whose parents had left him to fend for himself and he isn't sure if they're coming back, his head down, fingers fidgeting.
"Hey, you," she calls and Patrick looks up and searches their faces and he smiles.
"Hey, I ... I was waiting for you."
"Hey." Tim hugs Patrick's head before sitting down. "You want a beer?" He glances at Storm. Is he old enough for a beer? "Mom and Dad had a little talk and everything's fine, now." A tip of his head gets the three of them menus, and he doesn't let go of Storm's hand. Not yet. He's a big fucking softie.
He's 24? 25? Something like that? So, Storm orders three beers and Tim's hand is nice and warm. And it's sweet, actually, isn't it? "You guys want to share a pizza? They do that deep dish thing here and it's kind of killer. Lots of onions and garlic?"
"Yeah, okay." Patrick doesn't bother with his menu. "I'm sorry," he says, to Tim. "About earlier? I ... I'm really good with direction if you want to tell me what to do. And what not to do. I, uh, would totally understand if this was a one time thing and stuff. It was amazing. I'm ... thank you. For including me."
"Oh, are you kidding me." This kid is fantastic. Tim squeezes Storm's fingers before putting his hand on Patrick's shoulder. "I don't think this is going to be a one-off thing. Me and Storm talked about it, and if you're in, that's cool. We'll vouch for you to join the club. And we'll look after you, but you have to trust us. Okay?"
"Yeah, no, I mean, I totally trust you," Patrick answers, another one of those grins coming through and he nearly bounces in his seat. No way! No way! Awesome. "I totally trust both of you. Whatever you want." Not sir. He got that. "Dad."
Storm leans back in her seat, grinning. Shit, yeah.
Tim leans back as well, punching Storm's arm. What the actual fuck just happened? First it's a joke, then it's an idea, then Storm's got this kid, and wow. "There's a lot of shit that has to be worked out, too. It's not going to be all fuckin' roses and sunshine all the time, because we - all three of us - are gonna have to learn things. We'll have obligations, there are going to be rules. And you're going to follow them, because they'll be there to keep what's important, safe." A big palm runs over Patrick's hair.
"I understand. I do, I ... " This is crazy fast, isn't it? It's crazy. Patrick's head is spinning a little bit. "Whatever rules you guys want to give me is awesome. I ... I feel, just, like really, really lucky."
"God, you're fucking adorable. Seriously." Waving the waiter down, Storm orders the pizza and wraps her hand around the inside of Tim's thigh. Maybe the night's not totally lost. Maybe they can fuck again. Or she can watch them fuck, who cares. "We need to talk limits and shit like that. Get the basic stuff ironed out."
It's only dinnertime, hi. They've got all night, depending on what Patrick has going on. He knows he's not doing anything tomorrow, might go and jam with Storm and the Balls, get on Skype with his kids and Aleece, or take his bike out to the hills. Nothing that can't be clean-slated (minus the Skype) in the face of this new shiny thing that's fallen in their laps. He bites the side of Storm's neck. "I think the basic stuff can be ironed out between the sheets. The other stuff is Adult-Time talk, you know?"
"We talk about it," Storm says. "I don't want to be doing that between the sheets and have another freak out. That's not-fun time. And we're having pizza in the fucking kink club, so we might's well talk about it." And they have beer. Mom has laid down the law, dammit. With a smile though.
Limits, kinks, squicks, all that, ironed out over pizza and a couple of beers each. Then it's back upstairs and clothes can come off and more of those condoms get used up and it's really fucking nice to sleep with two warm bodies, to be honest. Yeah. Storm can get really fucking used to this.