MCBB/Kelly- 35, 3 teen sons
From Create Your Own Story
You're five foot eight, you have lush, curvy hips and legs that are complimented by a firm if not large ass and a firm pair of C cup breasts. You also have a little stomach fat but it doesn't really make you any less shapely. Your tired green eyes are focused on nothing in particular as you drive, brushing a strand of golden hair behind your eye so that it doesn't blind you.
Your second oldest son Caleb, age fourteen, was supposed to cook tonight, but with his memory, you might have to sleep-cook again. You sigh at the prospect of cooking when you're dog-tired. The drive is uneventful, save for a few moments where you think about the pink vibrator you keep more or less at the ready for when your husband proves his incompetence in the bed that get you a bit heated up. A good orgasm is definitely in order.
You pull into your driveway, get your stuff and put them into your handbag and exit the car, lock it, and saunter on over to the front door. You fiddle for your keys for a bit and manage to find them and quickly open the door, slip in, and close it behind you. You freeze.
It's quiet. You sniff the air and smell, is that food? You hurry to the kitchen in a bid to investigate and find two pots half-filled with macaroni and sliced sausage and spam. You smile as you scratch cooking off the list and silently thank Caleb.
You check the time on your phone to find that you have a message from both Caleb and your youngest son Matthew, age thirteen. The wheels in your head turn as you connect the dots.
"Oh! Right!" You slap yourself on the forehead as you remember that everyone had plans.
Caleb went to sleep over with some of his friends, Matthew is off doing jujitsu or some sort of martial art, your nineteen year-old problem man-child Henry probably just didn't come home, and your husband Ian is watching a football game with his buds at a bar or something. You smile coyly as your pink vibrator buzzes back into mind. That's some quality alone time.
Your daydreams end abruptly with a ringing doorbell. You sigh as you contemplate answering.
