Paul, Don, and Bryan awkwardly dried off, each wanting to avoid discussing what had just happened, but the younger two burning with curiosity about the strange and magical effects of the plant. Paul, of course, had had a day to get used to the idea, even though even he was a bit startled at the strength of those effects today. It seemed that the bigger the plant grew, the more it spread, the more intense its powers were. Paul could not believe what he had just done with his sons. He was absolutely horrified, and he knew that any court in the land would be justified in removing them from his custody. Yet, at the same time, thanks to the influence of the shrinkweed, it had felt so good! His meaty cock jumped to life at the thought of what had happened, and a strange tickling in his brain told him that it could happen again, any time he wanted, if he only went out to pluck some more of that wonderful plant. In fact, he thought, maybe if I pluck it really fast and bring it in, it won't drive me as crazy as the whole patch.
Don was thinking along similar lines. He was horribly confused, very scared, and his ass hurt from his father's earlier treatment of it, and yet an increasing part of him was dying for it to happen again.
Bryan, who had been one of the least affected, was only disgusted by what had just happened. Wasn't he? It HAD felt good, but he just wanted to put it all behind him.
Finally, Paul cleared his throat. "Guys," he said, "I know things got out of hand, but it wasn't our fault. We don't have to be ashamed of ourselves. I think we have to promise never to mention this to anyone, OK?"
"Sure, dad." "Uh, OK."
But then Brett came running up the stairs. "Dad, the weed has spread across the Laird's yard, and I think I see it popping up across the street. What are we going to do?"
"Uh, I'm going to go get dressed," said Don, edging out of the room. He went downstairs to his old bedroom, where he kept some things for when he spent the night, but he didn't stay in there for long. Pulling on a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and some winter gloves, he then put on a swimmer's nose plug and quietly slid the bedroom window open. It overlooked the back yard, where the shrinkweed had also begun to appear. "Just a little more," he murmured, grabbing a plastic bag and sliding out to collect some specimins.