Mother’s Day Flowers

When I entered the trailer and was about to shout out my presence, I heard the moaning. I quietly walked down the narrow, short corridor to the larger of the two bedrooms that took up the whole width of the trailer at the rear and that barely accommodated the queen-sized bed.

They were both naked, my father on his belly on the bed, and moaning deeply as his black construction worker lover, fifteen years my father’s junior, barely five years older than I was, crouched astride my father’s pelvis, moving slowly back and forth like a cowboy slowly cantering his horse across the plains, riding my father’s buttocks with his deep moving, rolling cock.

As I watched, Ray lowered his chest on my father’s back and stretched his legs along my dad’s legs, holding him close. Ray was kissing my father in the hollow of his neck, and they were closely embracing, only their undulating hips showing that they were making deep-plowing love.