HOW WE SERVE MASTER

My Aunt Lillian.

Poor Lillian.

She’s my Uncle Bertrand’s wife, younger than his first but still just past 70.

The family loves her, much more than we did his first wife — the aptly named The Unnameable. Lillian is smart and kind, a rare combination in my experience.

But …

Poor Aunt Lillian.

She wasn’t so smart when she started letting her hormones drive the jalopy. She wanted some sex. Hot sex. Screaming loudly sex.

Some “A hung young lover who makes you beg before he’ll complete your cum” sex.

Ol’ Uncle Bertrand, in his mid-80s, couldn’t get it done.

Or even up.

Enter Tyler.

Twentysomething.

A schemer. A charmer. A conniver.

I ain’t saying he’s a gold digger, but he’d rather have a yacht than an outrigger.

(That’s as close as I’m getting to that song’s real lyrics,)

Most of all, Tyler is a motherfucker.

And I don’t mean a jerk, which he is that, too.

He’s a motherfucker in the literal sense. He fucks mothers.

Loves to fuck mothers. Way turned on by much older women.

A motherfucker come to life.

But that’s not even exactly true.

Tyler is a …

Grandmotherfucker.

Aged, flawed bodies excite him. So does the sexual desperation of women that old.

And the fact they usually have oodles of disposal cash.

So Aunt Lillian caught Tyler’s eye.

Sent his heart a-thumpin’

His dick a-throbbin’

His dream Lamborghini an-orderin’

Fuck. The things he did to that lovely woman.

Or made her do for his amusement.

The perv.

I got all the details. All the receipts, so to speak.

I’ll be sharing them.