Continue.

It's now the day of the move. You bid a tearful farewell (most of the tears are yours) to your girlfriend, Emily, and the two of you decided to stay a couple and she promised to come out and visit you often. You also said goodbye to your best friend Billy this morning and you and your mother got into the car to go to her boss's house. You arrive at her boss's impressive mansion well ahead of the moving van. It's quite an impressive home with an imposing front gate which has "The Andersons" engraved on it. The grounds are massive and immaculately maintained.

Your mother has dressed much more conservatively than she has lately for the occasion, for which you are grateful. You and your mother drive up the long driveway and park in the spacious parking area in front of the house. You get out and approach the front door nervously and your mother rings the bell.

An imperious-looking woman in her late thirties or early forties, roughly your mother's age, answers the door. She is stunningly beautiful and dressed immaculately in what appears to be an evening gown. "Why, Rosalind," she says, giving your mother a hug. "Come in. I've heard so much about you." Not enough, you think. "And you must be Parker. You are very welcome to our home." Too quickly for you to react, she also draws you in for a hug. You are stunned by this and the subtle scent of her perfumed hair and her breasts pressing up against the top of your chest begin to arouse you. Luckily, the contact is brief and she pulls away. "Come into the lounge," she says, leading you into a massive foyer, ringed by an upstairs balcony, "and meet the family. Have you met Mr. Anderson, Parker?"

"No, he hasn't," your mother answers for you and Mrs. Anderson opens a side door and the three of you pass through.