The conversation went better than it had any right to. At first, Jack had demanded details - what had she done? What happened? Were they already done? He was so turned on, he told her. She didn't know what else to do - she wrote the truth. The man whose cock they had been imagining splitting her open for two weeks, the man that she had told him was going to be a better fuck than him the night before... that man was their son.

"Did you... do anything with him?" the text sat there, plain, without tone, but also without judgment. For the moment.

She decided to call, to...