Candy Ever After (Hot Candy 2)
“You’re right. I should do it more often.”
Joel slips an arm around me. “And you were worried about Brylee bringing a dick-shaped cake?”
“How right you are,” I say. “The pussified one won’t cut it now.”
Mom pats her hair. “Jet, those vibrating buttplugs you recommended me—”
“Mom.” I grab her arm and haul her away. “I need to talk to you.”
“Sure thing, baby girl. Why the rush? I was just about to tell Jet how grateful—”
“Yes. I mean, no, don’t do that, Mom. Not where everyone can hear you. Listen…” We stop at the kitchen door. “Dad loves you.”
Her brows arch. “Yes?”
“He does!”
“Yes. I know that, darling.”
“But… but…” I sputter. “You keep telling me he doesn’t satisfy you! And you wanted to find an escort! Both of you!”
A familiar hush settles over me and I glance around to find everyone staring at us.
Oh shit.
“In here.” I haul Mom into the kitchen, and there we find Dad at the table, eating.
“That looks good, Donny.” Mom steals a canape from his plate. “Mmm. Did you make this, Candy?”
“No, that was Joel, he’s the chef. Mom… Dad…”
“Candy was telling me that you love me.” Mom perches on Dad’s lap and feeds him another canape. “Isn’t she sweet?”
“Hm…” Dad agrees, chewing.
My eyes are bulging out of their sockets, like in the cartoons. “You guys… What are you doing?”
Mom frowns at me. “Eating?”
“You’re feeding Dad! And sitting on his lap.”
“That’s what people in love do, baby girl.”
“But you… You’re looking for escorts…” I’m officially confused. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, that.” Dad wipes his mouth on a paper napkin. “Well, your mom and I had a long talk about sex. She needs more, and I’ll try to give it to her. I hadn’t realized. So we’re trying toys, but I’m kinda clueless, and YouTube videos only confuse me.”
“So,” Mom takes over, “we decided to hire an escort to train us how to use them. The toys. And how to get maximum satisfaction.”
“Oh.” The words are gone again. I’m openly gaping at my parents, my mind frozen on a selection of possible images.
Mom and Dad. Skimpy underwear. Sex toys. An escort.
Oh no. I’ll need bleach to scour the inside of my head.
“So…” I wave a hand as if that will magically put everything in its right place. “You guys are fine together? Mom, you’re not leaving Dad?”
“Leaving him?” She laughs delightedly. “Only if he leaves with me.”