Wes gives his friend’s milf mom a massage, only for him to get really turned on touching her.
“Thanks for the ride, Kim,” I said, as we grabbed the shopping from the back of the car.
“No problem. If only my son was just as appreciative of his mother.”
“Jeez, mom,” Cris grumbled. “You were on the way! Be grateful that you got some extra pair of hands to help you with the shopping.
I took the bags inside, three at a time, in each hand, whilst Cris busied himself with his backpack.
Between me and Kim, we eventually unloaded everything on the kitchen floor.
“Great. Now I need to put everything away and think about dinner,” Kim said, lifting her leg and rotating her foot. “Been on my feet all day. Are you okay with lasagne, Wes?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Mom, I want pizza.”
“Well, since I’m doing the cooking, we’re having lasagne.”
“Ugh. Fine, whatever. C’mon, let’s check out Fifa.”
I looked at my friend’s mom, who looked like she was tired, and then at the bags of shopping strewn all over the floor. “I’m going to help your mom unpack first. Then I’ll be with you.”
