Thanksgiving Stepson Threeway


Salvador King

Copyright 2012 by Salvador King

and Adult Angle Productions

Smashwords Edition, License Notes




The house, as he entered it, smelled like roasting turkey, sumptuous stuffing, boiled green beans, sizzling casseroles, rising rolls, nearly finished cakes and pies, newly cracked beers, and - perhaps Tony’s nose was the only one that picked this up as he entered - a subtle masculine cologne, Drakkar, maybe?

Home from his freshman year in college, he’d never been to his new in-law’s country ranch here in rural Iowa. He’d spent most of the morning to make it here by noon - since way too early in the morning, in fact, driving here from Chicago, where he went to school.

His biological mother, stirring something on the stovetop, was the first to notice him.

“Tony!” she exclaimed, letting the wooden spoon plop into what was apparently a thick soup.

“Mom!” he said, setting down his suitcase and opening his arms for her embrace. Truth be told, she was the only one he was looking forward to seeing. Judging by the wedding earlier this fall - which was the first time he’d met the man - her third husband, Dean, was a drunken braggart, a former minor league baseball star, who thought his few all-too-brief calls to “The Show” made him some sort of superstar.

“Okay, hon’” his mom said, stepping forward from a kitchen full of women. “Are you ready?”

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