Knock on the front door

Heart racing, you climb the steps to the front porch. Your mind is careening out of control, filled with images of Michael's mother, April. Tall, flowing brown hair, bouncing butt, and of course full, all-natural breasts... She was beautiful when you first met her in middle school, and hasn't aged a day since. You can't wait to see her, and if all of this is truly happening...

You knock, and you hear footsteps, then the door unlocking. It opens to reveal Michael, who smiles when he sees you.

"Hey, John! How's it going, man?"

"Good," you reply, continuing to gain confidence. "You busy? I was...uh, around, so I thought I'd come see if you want to hang out."

"Sure thing, I've got a few hours. Come on in." With that he waves you inside, leading you to a well-furnished living room. You know it well from the many hours you've spent playing video games on his big flat-screen TV, making occasional trips to the adjoining kitchen for junk food. Not much has changed over the years; a bowl of chips is on the coffee table, some game or other sits paused on the screen.

"Oh, is that John?" you hear a voice call from the kitchen.

"Yep!" Michael replies.

You hear some stilletto heels clack on the linoleum floor of the kitchen. Not an expected sound, but a promising one... you look to the kitchen as the sound rounds a corner.

You see April, her curly brown hair cascading down over her shoulders, looking like some pervert's wet dream of a domestic house-wife: a blouse, a short apron, and then nothing more except for a pair of black stiletto heels. Her mons is graced with a small and neatly groomed patch of brown curly hair.

April smiles at you. "John! Good to see you again. Come give me a grope," she says, walking towards you with open arms.

You walk towards her, slightly falteringly as you process what she said. Wait, what?

April comes and embraces you, holding your head to her chest. You remember fantasising about April doing this when you were a teenager, and obsessed with women's boobs. (Okay, you're still obsessed with boobs, but your interests have diversified somewhat.) You hug her, reaching your arms behind her back.

April chuckles. "Come on, don't be a stranger. Give my butt a good squeeze. It's been too long."

You reach down slightly tentatively, not really afraid of any consequences, but still getting used to your new world. You give her butt a friendly squeeze. She chuckles again in a motherly way.

"Now John," she says, pulling away from the hug. "Do you think you'll be staying with us for a while?" She shifts her stance so that her pussy is on clear display.

You furrow your brow. "What do you mean?"

April smiles at you wryly, and begins swaying her hips gently. "Don't be shy, John. You haven't been around for a while, but I know what you can be like."

Her swaying is all too enticing, and you bring your hand to feel between her legs.

"See?" April says. "I know you all too well. Intimately, so to speak. Let's put it this way, do you have any definite plans for the rest of the day? For tomorrow?"

"Uh," you stammer, "I can't say that I do."

April nods decisively. "Right then. I think I'll plan on you staying for supper then. Dinner's spaghetti bolognese. Would you like a sandwich for lunch, or can I offer you something else?" she says, with a little inflection of innuendo.