Hotel hots

Peter felt relief when they arrived at the hotel. He could get away from his dad and then sort his head out. That was the plan anyway. Until the receptionist informed them that they had to change the room—to one bed.

"I'm sorry if that is an inconvenience," the receptionist said.

Walter jabbed Peter in the ribs lightly. "Uh, not a problem at all."

The pair took off across the lobby and then to the room in question. It was indeed spacious and well designed. A single queen bed sat at the head of the room. Peter slumped down and made a chair his home. They were thickly padded and oddly comforting.

Walter, for his part, sauntered ahead, swaying his hips a little. Then he turned to the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Ok then," Peter heard the door shut and then water running. He faded into a small sleep. His breathing relaxed, and it was nice until...

He heard rustling inside the room and sat up to see the full naked glory of Samus's backside toweling off.

Oh fuck! Dad seriously!

Unashamed at all, Walter/Samus turned about, showing her full naked body to him. "What's wrong, son?" He asked with mock confusion. Her breasts defied gravity, and a faint six-pack could be seen in her curvy stomach.

Peter could think of many things, starting with the images he had of her bent over a chair, his rod inside her, her cries matching his rhythm. Damn, he could picture it, and this was his dad messing with him.

Peter just stood up and walked out to get away from the lewd wet dream that was torturing him with a male voice.