Brycee

“Boys?” Mam’s voice filled the air. “What’s the matter—Oh, Gerard, why are you in your underpants?” “Your son”—Gibsie paused to point an accusing finger at me before continuing—“ejaculated on me.” “He did?” Mam asked with a hopeful expression on her face. “Yes, he did!” Gibsie groaned, shuddering from head to toe. “I didn’t fucking ejaculate on you,” I shot back, torn between laughing and fucking crying. “I ejaculated and you sat on it.” “Same difference,” he barked, furious. “Same fucking results, Johnny!” “Oh, love, I’m so happy it’s working for you again,” Mam said, sagging in relief. “But you shouldn’t be interfering with yourself when your friends are over.” “What?” I gaped at her. “Are these words actually coming out of your mouth?” “It’s all over my uniform, Mammy K,” Gibsie told her. “He ruined me.” “I know, Gerard, love,” she coaxed,”
― Chloe Walsh, Keeping 13