"Dillon," Rochelle called from the kitchen. "Dinner!"
He mashed a few more buttons on his controller before dumping it on his bead and heading downstairs.
"Spag bol," he smiled and sat down.
"I know, pretty lame right?" Rochelle said and sat down opposite. "I just haven't got the time anymore."
"Where's dad?" Dillon asked.
"Working late again," she replied quietly. Dillon could see she was upset.
"What's going on with you two?" He asked.
Rochelle shook her head and a tear rolled down one soft cheek. "I don't know, he's working all these hours. Or at least he says he is. We barely see each other anymore. I don't know what to do!"
Dillon didn't really know what to say, and so instead stabbed his fork into his food aimlessly.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be dumping all my problems on you," she let out a nervous laugh.
"It's okay," I sighed. "I know my dad can be a real asshole sometimes, I've known for a while now."
"He's not an asshole," she said.
"Don't try and sugar-coat it mum, he is!"
She went silent and stared at her food. She had barely eaten anything and just prodded it around with her fork. Another tear slipped down the other cheek which she wiped away with the back of her hand.
"You've always been nice to me Dillan," she said.
"Of course, you are my dad's wife. Since my real mum walked out you're all I've really known," he said and gripped her hand in his. "I know dad is an asshole. It's why she left in the first place. If you wanted to leave, I would understand."
"I don't think Megan would be too happy if I did leave," she smiled.
The blood suddenly rushed out of his face and he snatched his hand quickly away from her. Had she told her like she said she would? Surely she was just joking.
As if reading his mind Rochelle spread her lips into a wide grin. "She told me Dillon!"
"Fuck!" He grunted and stood up.
"Don't go," she clutched his arm. "It's okay, I'm not angry. I kind of expected it to be honest."
"I told her not to say a word and she fucking did," he pulled free of her grip and headed for the stairs.
"I'm not mad," she stood up and followed him down the hallway. "Just stop Dillon!"
He stopped dead at the bottom of the stairs. His knuckles went white as be gripped the hand rail.
"Look, I have to confess something," she said quietly. "Look at me, please."
He did as she asked and turned on the spot to face her, not expecting to see what he saw in front of him. His mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. Rochelle smirked as she saw the reaction her bare chest gave him.
"What are you doing?" Dillon asked and backed away from her.
She gripped her own left breast in her hand and squeezed as she walked forwards backing him straight into the living room.
"I told Megan what we did was wrong."
"And yet you did it any way," she purred and licked her lips.
"Yea, but it was wrong and so is this Rochelle."
"Oh," she grinned. "I'm Rochelle now am I, not mommy?"
Dillon shook his head. What the hell had gotten into this family?
"Dillon," she purred and ran a hand through her long blonde hair. "I'm only young. Far to young to be your real mother."
"You're with my dad," he said, but couldn't help looking her up and down. Her body was luscious. Her skin was tanned and smooth. Her tits were firm and round with pert, hard nipples poking out from them. She had curved hips that flexed as she stepped forwards on long, toned legs. She wore nothing but a little red thong that barely covered her.
"I know," she grinned spreading her red lips into a smile. "Does it matter? He's not around anyway, and I've been starved."
"Starved?"
