“Hi, Mom! I’m home,” shouted Jimmy Noran. The slender blonde kid walked in to the house to greet his mother, grinning as his big cock throbbed in his jeans.
Sondra Noran sat on the living room couch. She was still a knockout at thirty-five, with a youthful, wide-eyed face framed by blonde hair styled in a pageboy cut. Her slim body was lithe and slim, and this afternoon she was dressed to show off in a tube top and skin-tight hot pants that showed all of her luscious legs and molded the tight cheeks of her ass.
Sondra had made the shorts herself. Her income as a seamstress supplemented the divorce settlement.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.
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