Dancing?

"Yes," JIm said, turning off the stove. He left whatever he was cooking on the stove. Meanwhile, Jack grabbed a chair and started straddling it. His father sat down in another chair.

They sat face to face. Jack leaned over, and his father reached to kiss him. But Jack coquettishly moved away at the last moment. He bent down, grabbing his fake sock-tits as he did so, shaking them at his father. Then he got up and sat himself down on the chair, spreading his legs. Jim could see his wife's panties with his son's hard cock poking out of them.

It's a little bigger than mine, thought Jim. But he had no time for such thoughts because Jack had turned over and was now shaking his ass in Jim's face.

Jim reached out and grabbed his son, tearing at his wife's dress. It ripped off. Oh well, he thought. He let the sock-tits fall away, so Jack was now wearing only panties and stockings. Jim grabbed his son's breast.

As Jack felt his father's breath on his neck, his father's cock rubbing up against his ass, he moaned a little, and said, "I'll do anything for your dick."

"Good," said Jack. "get on the floor, over there. Crawl to me, begging for it."