The snowflakes fell thick, to the point where Justin could only see a few dozen feet into the distance. He ran a cold, ungloved hand through his hair, brushing white powder and ice off, and tried to walk a little faster. The snow was up to his knees even on the plowed section of the sidewalk, and his feet sank into it as though it were freezing cold sand.
The day had been a long one, and Justin was tired. His school vacation had been filled with more work than play, ever since his boss at the pizzeria started relying on him to cover for an employee on a trip.
And I’m stuck back here at home, overworked and barely sleeping.
Justin’s dad was on vacation. Both of his twin sisters were on vacation. Most of his friends were on vacation. Everyone was on vacation, except for him and his mom.
“I’m home.” Justin dusted snow off his jeans the best as he could and forcefully kicked his shoes off.
“I’m so glad. I was starting to get worried.”
Emily, Justin’s mother, glided into the living room. She had medium length chestnut brown hair, and it was fluffy and loose, as though she’d taken a shower and carefully blow-dried it afterward.
The robe she was wearing supported the idea, though the red and black garment wasn’t the sort a woman would normally pick straight out of the bath. It clung to her tiny frame in interesting ways, showcasing the cleavage of her large, shapely breasts. With each step she took, her bare legs stretched out underneath the bottom hem, giving Justin tantalizing flashes of thigh.
I thought I was going to be alone for this vacation. Having Mom here is torture.
“Hey,” said Justin. “Sorry, I had to work late tonight. The pizza place was swamped with orders and one of the dishwashers didn’t show up.”
“You are covered in snow!” His mom let out a gasp and began running her hands through his hair, and along his neck. “You poor thing!”
Her hands pulled his jacket open with gentle, yet supremely confident motions, and Emily slipped both her arms around him as she pulled it off. It put her body in close contact with Justin’s, which was hard for him to ignore in a number of ways.
Emily was one of those women that most men only ever got to see through computer monitors or during wet dreams. She was in her mid-thirties, and somehow, almost magically, still growing into her beauty. Every year that went by only added to the amount of sex appeal she could muster with a simple smile or a lingering look.
Justin noticed it less through his own eyes and more through the comments and questions he’d had to endure from practically everyone in his life. His friends were always curious about her, and would ask questions ranging from her favorite type of flower to the color of her panties.
Even Justin’s boss, Michael, routinely asked him probing questions about her. Sometimes Michael would even try to invite himself over for dinner when it was just the two of them at home, as he had earlier that night.
“I’m fine, Mom,” said Justin. He flashed a smile and attempted to push forward out of the entryway and into the living room.