The Poet Pt. 04

"Um, you know, Mom," Marcy blundered. Then, clearing her throat: "Up the butt."

Vera closed her eyes. "You let him do that?"

"Well, sure. Why not? He does that to Lorna all the time."

Lorna covered her face with her hands so she couldn't see her mother staring daggers at her. Vera now turned her wrath to Blake. "Is this true?"

"Well, yes, ma'am," he muttered. "But she likes it."

"And I like it too!" Marcy piped up.

"I wish you liked it," Steve said softly.

Lorna took her hands away from her face. "Are you saying you've never done it, Mom?"

Vera was beginning to think everyone in the room had gone insane. "I will not have a man stick his thing in my butt, and that's final!"

"Okay, okay," Lorna said, "you don't have to make a big deal out of it. I just think you should give it a try before you make a decision like that."

"Yes, why don't you give it a try?" Steve said with unholy eagerness.

"I am not having this conversation at the breakfast table," Vera declared, crossing her arrms over her chest.

"Say, Blake!" Steve said, slapping the younger man on the back. "Why don't we get breakfast ready for our ladies? At least a couple of them"--winking obscenely at his two daughters--"put in a lot of work last night and must be hungry."

"Daddy," Lorna said disapprovingly, "you're such an old goat. Isn't he, Mom?"

"I'm not going to express an opinion about what your father is," Vera said.

But once breakfast was prepared things seemed to settle down, and the Walker family largely cast from their minds the eventful activities of the night before.