Forty minutes.
They'd been at it for forty minutes.
For context—and context is non-negotiable here, because what you're about to witness demands you perform an emergency factory reset on every mother-daughterdynamic you thought you understood—forty minutes outlasts the entire sexual career of most Legacy boys from clumsy foreplay to post-nut collapse.
Longer, in fact, than Brett's personal best, according to Paige, who once timed the full miserable sequence with a stopwatch app and dropped the screenshot into the group chat like war footage.
Three minutes forty-two seconds.
Caption: one solitary crying emoji😭. Not the laughing-crying one. The bleak, soul-has-left-the-chat one.
Forty minutes is also thirty-nine minutes beyond the Whitmore household's all-time record for feeling embarrassed about anything.
The Whitmores didn't do embarrassment.
