Hank gets warm milk in the kitchen

The kitchen was quiet and dark. Hank turned on the light over the stove, a little white pool in the shadowy night kitchen, and half-filled a mug with milk from the fridge.

Hank mused on yesterday as he waited for the microwave to warm up his milk, a gentle sleeping aid from his youth.

Yesterday. A sex-filled sea cruise cut short, an endless day of cramped travel and uncomfortable waiting rooms, and then walking into his own home to catch his daughter having a rebound hook-up in the living room, getting a thigh-shaking pussy pounding on her brother's cock, while her brother's girlfriend watched approvingly.

At least they'd got the young folks packed off to bed after that. Sleep on it. What a good idea. They'd all want to be rested and clear-headed for that Morning After talk. Clear-headed, not dreaming about their lusts or fantasies.

The microwave oven beeped. Hank poured in a little milk from the bottle to cool down the bubbling white liquid. He put away the milk bottle and took the mug to the kitchen table, sitting down to slowly sip the warm milk.

Hank heard footsteps behind him and felt hands on his shoulders.