Garbage diving

"Fine, I'll check," you sigh as you swallow down the mouthful and get up.

"I'll fry up some more bacon for you if you wash your hands when you come back," your mom calls after you.

"Urgh, fine," you moan as you get your shoes on. You pull up your sleeves on your way out to the garbage can.

Piles of cotton sticks, various female make-up products, some moisture towels and worse, but no writing paper from what you can see with some surface scratching. You sigh and close the lid and go back inside, kick off your shoes and go to the bathroom to wash your hands.

As you come back into the kitchen, you find Jane, your mother, wearing her usual "morning off" outfit.

"Welcome back," she smiled over her shoulder and gave her gorgeous ass a small roll in your direction. "The bacon is almost done, but I had to use the lid to keep it from frying my ass. No luck?"

You rolled your eyes and sat down at the breakfast table again. "Nope, just trash," you sigh.

She's barely thirty and has godlike genes for beauty and brains, but she's a slut competing with your sister. No wonder dad moved out once he had bankrolled her education and they've had you and your sister. The relationship is amicable, but it was clear she would never say no to a flirt or an opportunity to groom someone into becoming her personal sex ****.

You glance at your laptop and notice the desktop is visible, even though you think you left it on a news site. Has mom been picking through your web history again? or... did she touch the app?

"Here's the rest of the bacon, honey," your mom says as she moves up next to you and slides the sizzling bacon down on your plate, one of her breasts purposefully pressing and jiggling against your shoulder.