Sunlight spilled through the half-open blinds in soft, golden bars across mom's bedroom, late-afternoon warmth that made the sheets glow and the air taste like honey.
I woke slowly, the way you do when everything feels perfect before your brain catches up.
My face was buried in the curve of her neck, her hair tickling my cheek, her body curled into mine like we'd been carved to fit together. She was still asleep, breathing slow and deep, one arm draped possessively over my waist, her bare breast pressed warm against my ribs.
I didn't move for a long minute. Just breathed her in. My mother. My Linda. The woman who raised me, who loved me first… and now my woman too on my growing harem, the woman whose bed I woke up hard in, whose naked skin was flush against mine, whose heartbeat I could feel against my chest like a secret we were never supposed to share.
Then her fingers twitched against my back, a sleepy little stroke that told me she was surfacing too.
