I can't sleep so I thought we might get together," the much older Simpson asked."Ordinarily I would say sure, but I think it would be a bad idea since... we work in the same place. I would prefer ours be a strictly professional relationship." I said."Oh alright," was his reply to me. "Have it your way." Don't worry, I will," I said that as I hung up on him. Simpson was more than twice my age. If he had been Sherlock Holmes maybe, but he was just your typical less than inspired detective.I stopped. The load I delivered to Marge’s mouth was one an eighteen year old would be proud of. Right before that first spurt I felt like I had the cock of King Kong. Maybe it was only thirty seconds, it felt like minutes as I flooded her mouth. Marge never quit and never let a drop escape.Marge continued for several minutes sucking my cock. Once it had the appearance of a wet dishrag she let it slip from her mouth. My eyes had returned to the front of my head and my vision cleared. I looked down and saw. I love you a lot.”“I know, Big Brother. I love you, too,” she said softly.I pulled her into a hug and she sighed, resting her head on my chest.I released her and took her hands and looked deeply into her eyes.“Someday I hope you’ll be able to forgive me and trust me again.”“Me too, Big Brother, me too.”She dropped my hands and went to her room. I watched her walk away and then sat there staring at the door she had just gone through, wondering if our relationship would ever be the same as it had. Resisting the urge to rub it and speed its expansion brought on the delicious conflict between my wish for a warm hand comforting it and the desire to let it stretch and satisfy its own delightful itch. Leaving me uncovered from my hips to my head felt oddly daring.An abrupt but gentle breeze caused me to sigh and open my eyes. “Mom! What are you doing in here without knocking?” I screamed without screaming as I tried to hide the hugely tented part of my sheet with my hands. Of course, that.