His most natural reaction would be to scramble for the blanket or his pillow and cover his cock. But there was something about the look in Andrew's eyes that rendered him immobile, as though he'd lost all control of his body. All he could do was stare back at Eric.He searched his eyes for a trace of condemnation, or anything close to it. But instead of condemnation, he found a look of approval. Andrews liked what he saw; that part was pretty much clear. He had an intense look in his eyes—a look that could only mean either of two things.One, he wanted to fight.Two, he wanted to fuck.Jeremy could swear on it that it was the latter. The bulge in Andrew's pants was enough proof of that."Continue," Andrew said, his eyes fixed on Jeremy's cock.When he spoke in a voice as sexy as that, how could anyone refuse him? His voice was deep yet it held a calmness that could only be related to dominance."I want to watch you touch yourself." Andrew's husky voice left no room for an objection.He. Finally she croaked something. "H-how was your day?" It sucked." He said evenly, daring his mother to challenge his choice of words."I-I'm ss-sorry, dear." Then she could turn back to her bowl and try to forget the new silence that howled at her.Chuck resumed his eating. He was laughing inside. This was going to be easier than even his most optimistic hopes. All day in school he had thought of only one thing. How far could he push his mother into doing whatever he wanted? He had plotted and planned from the moment he woke up until he returned that afternoon. It was clear now that she was his completely. Secretly he hoped that she didn't know just how complete, or much of the fun of his new game would have been lost. He finished eating."Mom?" He asked simply."W-what dear?" Dorothy flinched at the unexpected word."How could you?" His voice strained lightly.Her eyes opened wide. "Me? W-what? I th-thought you liked the soup." This isn't about your soup. I mean last night." His voiced.
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