The kitchen was bright, filled with the smell of frying eggs and fresh coffee. Vicky’s mom, Sarah, was at the stove, her back to the room as she hummed a happy tune. Greg sat at the kitchen island, his large frame hunched over a plate of toast, staring blankly at the morning news on his tablet.
Vicky stepped into the room, her short denim skirt barely covering her thighs. She didn't have any panties on. She could feel the cool air against her skin, a secret that made her smirk.
She walked straight toward Greg. Instead of sitting down, she moved behind him, wrapping her arms around his neck in what looked like a sweet morning hug.
"Good morning, Mom," Vicky called out, her voice bright and innocent.
"Morning, honey! Did you sleep well?" Sarah asked without turning around, her spatula cl
