Until last weekend. Dad went to a “work conference.” (We both know that means he went golfing with his mistress in Scottsdale, but whatever). I stayed home to house-sit.
She made me stand. Made me strip to my boxers. Then she pulled out her tape measure. A tailor’s fabric one. She knelt—actually knelt in front of me—and did it professionally . Base to tip. Around the thickest part. She didn’t smirk. She didn’t gasp. She just nodded, slow, like a mechanic reading a diagnostic. mama fiona – your stepmom is a size queen
Then he brought home Fiona.
I nearly passed out.
I moved out the next morning. Not because I was scared. Until last weekend
She patted the tile floor in front of her. mama fiona – your stepmom is a size queen
I sat.