Catching Alice – Illustrated Edition

by H. Malcom Walker

 

This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All characters depicted in this work are 18 years of age or older.

 

Note: All images generated with Venice AI.

 

 

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www.facebook.com/AuthorMalcomWalker

 

Copyright © 2025 by H. Malcom Walker

Chapter One – Caught in the Kitchen

Alice stood at the sink, the sound of running water filled the space as she finished washing the dishes. The soft, golden light from the afternoon sun bathed her in warmth, illuminating the gentle curves of her body. Her brown striped dress, clinging just enough to trace the natural lines of her form, moved with each subtle shift of her body. The fabric, resting lightly on her body, framed her silhouette in a way that felt effortless, the soft straps held it delicately in place.

As Alice continued her chores, her mind wandered to her daily routine. At 36 years old, she had maintained a disciplined regimen that kept her in the prime of her life. Her long, luscious brown hair cascaded down her back, a testament to the care she put into her appearance. Her large breasts, firm and supple, filled out her dress perfectly, hinting at the delights that lay beneath the fabric.

Alice was no stranger to the gym, and her dedication to her physical well-being was evident in her trim and toned body. The hours spent lifting weights, pushing herself on the treadmill, and attending yoga classes had sculpted her physique into a work of art. The curves of her waist and hips, the toned muscles in her legs, and the firmness of her abs all spoke to her commitment to staying fit and healthy. She had the curves of a grown woman, however, and was definitely not some waif of a teenage girl.

As she moved gracefully around the kitchen, the natural light through the windows played off her skin, highlighting the toned muscles of her arms and the graceful curve of her neck. Her beauty was undeniable, and she carried herself with an air of confidence that only enhanced her allure.

Alice knew that age was just a number, and she refused to let it dictate her life. She was a woman in her prime, and she was determined to start living her life on her own terms. With each passing day, she embraced her body, her desires, and her passions, and she knew that the best was yet to come. She only wished she had a better man to spend it with. Her husband David was quite successful, but he was so boring and married to his job. He kept her comfortable, but they hadn’t been intimate in years.

She had thought about cheating on her husband, but could never bring herself to do so. Instead, Alice sought solace in other ways to distract herself from the temptation. Other than the gym and yoga classes, she stayed home as much as possible, and found comfort in the daily rituals that kept her grounded and allowed her to focus on her own well-being.

This had become even more the routine of her life since her son Tommy had graduated high school last year. He was taking classes at the local junior college, and still lived at home, but he was a very independent young man, just as Alice and David had raised him to be. Alice worked hard to make their home in Brentwood, just outside of Nashville, as comfortable and welcoming as possible, even if they rarely entertained.

Beneath her dress, there was something else that kept Alice’s attention in the moment—the sheer, silky Foxy Fine brand pantyhose she wore, smoothing over her lower body like a second skin. The thin fabric was so fine, it almost felt like it could melt into her skin. From her waist to her toes, it gripped her body in a way that both comforted and heightened her awareness of every subtle movement. The sensation of the hose was almost intimate, hugging her curves without seams, without any interruption, making each step feel more deliberate. She could feel the silky texture against the back of her thighs, the smooth fabric wrapping around her legs like a soft caress, and each movement of her body seemed to amplify the sensation. It was light, but sensual—the kind of feeling that made her aware of the softness between her skin and the delicate material.

As she shifted, the sensation of the pantyhose against her legs intensified, the fabric so sheer it was like a whisper against her skin. She could feel the smoothness against the inside of her thighs as she moved, the slight stretch of the material that conformed to her body, its grip a constant, subtle reminder of her own femininity. Most importantly, Alice loved the way the hose held her pussy so tight. She kept her body from the waist down closely shaved, not for anyone else, but so she could feel the material gripping her legs, bottom, and outer labia, pulling them snugly together. Each movement sent small tingles up and down her slit, which had otherwise been neglected for so long.

She would sometimes catch herself daydreaming, her thoughts wandering as she stared out the window behind the sink. In those quiet moments, the sensation of the hose seemed to amplify everything else—the sound of water, the soft warmth of the kitchen air, the subtle feeling of being held in a way that wasn’t quite visible to anyone else. It wasn’t the clothes themselves, or even the fabric—no, it was the way they made her feel. Sexy, confident, in control, even if only for a brief moment. She felt, just for an instant, like someone who was more than what her current life gave her.

Tommy stood in the doorway of the kitchen, his gaze lingering on his mother’s brown locks, cascading down her back in soft waves. He imagined what it would feel like to run his fingers through her hair, to feel the silken strands slip between his fingertips. The light caught the subtle sheen of it, making it look almost alive, just like the rest of her. He took in every detail—the delicate arch of her neck, the way her skin caught the light, the soft sway of her dress.

His attention shifted to the way the fabric of her sheer black hose clung to her legs, soft and smooth, following the natural contours of her form. His mind wandered for a moment, imagining how it would feel to touch the soft warmth of her skin beneath the delicate fabric, how her legs would feel against his own. The subtle scent of lavender from the soap she used mixed with the fresh, clean smell of the dishes, and for a moment, he couldn’t think of anything else but her. The world outside the kitchen felt distant as he became more aware of the growing desire inside him.

A slow, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of Tommy’s lips as he watched her, taking in the beauty of the quiet, intimate moment. She was so engrossed in her task, so natural in her movements, and he felt an overwhelming wave of affection for her. He didn’t want to interrupt her, but he couldn’t help himself. Every small detail about her was pulling him in deeper.

With a deep breath, he slowly stepped closer, his presence lingering in the air between them, the warmth growing with each movement. His heart beat a little faster, his chest tightening as he stood just behind her. He reached out cautiously, his fingers grazing her waist, just above the fabric of the apron. The touch was light, almost a whisper against her skin, but it was enough to send a shiver down her spine. He could feel the warmth of her body through the soft fabric, and the sensation of his touch seemed to spark something in both of them.

Her breath quickened, a small hitch in her inhale that told him she had sensed his approach, but she didn’t turn to face him. Instead, she maintained her focus on the task at hand, the water running, the dishes rinsing, as if trying to hold onto some semblance of control. But Tommy knew her too well. The way her body subtly leaned back into his touch, the way she held her breath for just a second longer, was all the confirmation he needed.

She didn’t speak, but he could feel her breath quicken beneath his fingertips. It was as if she was caught between the calm, grounded part of herself and the electrifying pull of the moment. He smiled again, placing both his hands on her waist, lightly gripping her hips. He leaned in and kissed her on her bare shoulder before he pulled her hips back, so her bottom was pressed against him.

"Got room for me, Mom, or should I go find something else to do?" Tommy's voice was low, playful. He could sense her smile even without seeing it, the little curve of her lips that only he could draw out.

Alice paused for a moment, a playful but cautious glint in her eyes as she tilted her head just slightly. She smirked, her voice teasing yet firm, "I’m almost done. You shouldn't be touching me like that," she said softly, though the tension between them was undeniable. "You’re always distracting me when I’m trying to get things done."

It was true. For the past week or two, Tommy seemed to always find a way to be close to her, often catching her unawares. He was also a lot more affectionate, insisting on hugs that went on just a bit too long. Tommy had also started kissing her on the cheek more than usual, and yesterday had even moved down to kiss her on the neck, something he had never done before. She wondered once again what had gotten into him.

Tommy chuckled, the sound warm and light, as he leaned closer, his hands still tracing the curve of her hips. "Distracting, huh? I’d call it... enhancing the moment," he whispered, his breath brushing against the back of her neck.

Her breath caught for a second as she felt his closeness, but she didn’t turn to face him. "You shouldn’t be touching your mother like this. You’re going get in trouble,” she replied, her voice a soft, playful challenge, the words carrying a teasing edge. But the way her body slightly leaned into his touch, the subtle tilt of her head, told a different story. She knew, deep down, that it was likely she who was in trouble, right here, right now. The tension between them had built to a point where it felt almost impossible to step back.

As her words hung in the air, Tommy leaned in just slightly, his lips brushing against her ear, his breath warm against her skin. “What kind of trouble… Alice?” he murmured, his voice low and filled with an unspoken promise that made her pulse quicken. It was a question, but the weight of it was clear, a challenge all its own.

For a split second, Alice froze. Her heart skipped a beat, her body stiffening in surprise. She hadn’t realized until then just how much the way he spoke to her had always been familiar, comfortable—never formal. He had always called her Mom, something light and easy, a reflection of their relationship, their ease with one another. But now, with that one word—Alice—everything had shifted. In that instant, Tommy had made it clear that something deeper was unfolding, something that neither of them had fully acknowledged until now.

Her breath hitched, and she found herself at a loss for words, her pulse quickening not just from the heat of his closeness but from the unexpected shift in the way he was seeing her—or perhaps the way he was allowing her to see him. The playful, teasing Tommy she knew was still there, but this new tone in his voice, the way he spoke her name like that, unsettled her in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

"You know, Alice," Tommy’s voice was soft, his lips almost brushing her ear as he spoke, "You make it hard to focus on anything else when you look like this. So… hard." He thrust his groin forward slightly, making sure Alice could feel his erection brushing against her bottom.

Alice hissed a breath in lightly, shaking her head as though she was still in control of the situation, though the fluttering sensation in her chest told her otherwise. "Tommy, we’re in the kitchen, not a... not the… place for this."

Her words were light but laced with the smallest hint of breathlessness, betraying the mix of irritation and excitement swirling inside her. She kept her back to him, pretending to focus on the task at hand, but her body leaned subtly toward his touch, betraying her resolve.

Tommy’s hands moved lower, now resting on her hips with more intent, his fingertips grazing the fabric of her apron. "I’d say we’re already in the middle of something, wouldn’t you, Alice?" His voice was low, teasing, his warmth pressing up against her back.

She bit her lip, feeling his touch sending tingles through her body. The heat between them was palpable, the kitchen now feeling too small for the closeness. But she couldn’t quite bring herself to pull away, to tell him to stop. Instead, she sighed, her voice softening but still with a desperate edge. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

Tommy chuckled, a warm, familiar sound, his hands now resting more firmly on her waist. "Impossible to resist," he corrected her gently. "But if you really want me to stop, all you have to do is say the word."

Alice’s breath caught for a moment, the pressure of his hands on her hips igniting something inside her. She wanted to push him away, to keep her distance, but something about the way he made her feel—so seen, so alive—made her hesitate. Her lips curved into a small, teasing smile as she tilted her head just enough to catch his gaze over her shoulder.

"I never said I wanted you to stop," she whispered, the quiet defiance in her voice matching the mischievous glint in her eyes. “I just said it wasn’t right.”

Tommy grinned, his hands slowly moving up her sides, just enough to let her know how much he was enjoying the moment. "Maybe it’s not right, but damn it feels so good," he whispered back. “I think we’re about to see where this goes."

Alice’s thoughts briefly flickered as she stood there, still feeling Tommy’s presence behind her. His hands were warm on her hips, but her mind had a brief moment of escape, wandering to a place where she could see him in a completely different light. She stole a quick glance at him over her shoulder, trying to keep her cool, but her thoughts betrayed her.

Tommy was tall, well over six feet, his broad shoulders giving him a powerful presence. The kind of presence that made her feel small, but not in a bad way. She could feel the strength in his arms even when he wasn’t touching her directly—his muscles, toned from years of playing football and other sports, were always visible even beneath his white T-shirt. The way his brown hair fell in a tousled yet purposeful manner over his forehead only added to the rugged allure. His blue eyes, bright and piercing, seemed to see through to her, always making her heart skip a beat.

Alice tried not to let herself imagine it, but the thought slipped into her mind anyway. What would Tommy look like at the pool?

She could almost see it now—Tommy, his strong, muscular body glistening in the sun. His tanned skin, marked with the faint traces of a life lived outdoors, would be perfectly sculpted, every inch of him a result of hard work and athleticism. He would probably be wearing just a pair of tight shorts, the muscles of his chest and arms rippling as he moved. The way the water would reflect in his eyes as he looked at her with that same playful grin he had now—it would be impossible not to notice how perfectly he filled the space around him, drawing attention without even trying.

Alice’s heart beat a little faster at the thought, her breath hitching ever so slightly as her body betrayed her again. She quickly turned her focus back to the sink, though she couldn’t help but feel the lingering warmth of his body close behind her. His presence seemed to fill the room, like he was larger than life in every way, and she couldn’t deny the effect he had on her.

But at the same time, there was a spark of resistance, of reason pushing its way through the growing pull between them. She couldn't help but wonder—Was this all just chemistry, or something more? How could she possibly consider doing this with her own son?

Alice’s thoughts swirled as Tommy’s presence loomed behind her, each breath she took growing shallower. Her nipples were rock hard and her slit felt like it was about to break open and release a flood of her cream. Her mind raced with the images of him, the strength in his body, and how easily he made her feel both safe and completely out of control. The way he held her without touching her fully, the unspoken command that radiated from him, made her pulse quicken. She had always loved this about Tommy—his dominance, his quiet authority that made her feel both cared for and completely immersed in the moment.

Her mind wrestled with conflicting emotions, but before she could settle on any kind of answer, Tommy’s voice broke through the haze.

"Spread your feet a little," Tommy’s voice was low, smooth, with just the right amount of control to it. It wasn’t an order; it was a request, a gentle nudge. He knew how much she loved when he guided her, always with respect, always with consent. The way he spoke to her, the tone that didn’t leave room for argument, sent a thrill through her as her body responded before her mind could catch up.

Alice’s breath caught, and she complied without hesitation. She subtly shifted her weight, her feet parting just to shoulder width. The coolness of the tiles against her bare feet made her acutely aware of the rest of her body, the soft fabric of her hose, the warmth of her dress, and the subtle way Tommy’s hands still lingered along her hips.

"Now," Tommy’s voice was even lower, a soft but firm caress in her ear as he spoke. "Place your hands on the counter. Grip the edges. Let me feel you respond."

Her fingertips brushed the cool, smooth surface of the counter, and she pressed down, feeling the texture of the polished surface beneath her palms. She gripped the edges, as Tommy had asked, feeling the slight tremble in her hands from the growing anticipation. There was something about this moment, the way he guided her with such quiet authority, that made her feel both vulnerable and entirely connected to him.

As Tommy stood behind his mom, his fingers resting lightly on her waist, his thoughts drifted back to a conversation he’d had a few weeks ago with his father, David. The two of them had been sitting in the garage, sharing a beer and talking about life, as they often did. Tommy’s father was a quiet, weak, unassuming man, but was someone Tommy could talk to about anything—someone he trusted completely, even if he harbored little respect for the weakness his father embodied. His only real hobby besides work was the craft beer he collected in the garage, which he had been sharing with Tommy for several years now.

During that conversation, his father said something that stuck with Tommy.

“You know, Tommy,” David had begun, his voice low and thoughtful, “I’ve been thinking about you. About what you need. You’re a very dominant guy, and you’ve got a lot of strength. You’ve always been good at leading people, at helping them find their way. But you need someone who can match that, someone who wants to follow, someone who trusts you completely.”

Tommy had listened, intrigued but unsure where his dad was going with it. His dad continued, pausing for a moment as if carefully choosing his words.

“Look, I’m not talking about anything crazy, but you should find someone with the kind of quiet strength that makes her open to a man with a firm hand. Someone like your mom, for example. She’s always been strong in her own way, but also submissive. I never could be that kind of man for her, and it made her turn cold towards me years ago. She could only be controlled by a strong man who knows what he’s doing, who understands her. Unfortunately, it will never be me.”

His dad had let the words hang in the air, not really sounding like a suggestion to Tommy but more like an observation. Tommy had felt a jolt at the mention of Alice, the thought hitting him harder than expected. It wasn’t that he’d never considered her in that way—he had. She was always so composed, so easy to be around. But hearing his dad talk about her like that, as if she were an example of what he needed, made something stir within Tommy.

David’s voice had been calm and reassuring, like he was simply pointing out a possibility. “I’m not saying you should rush into anything with a girl but think about it. A woman who knows her place, who lets a man lead... it’s different, but it works, Tommy, if that’s what she needs. It’s something you’d do well to find. Find yourself a girlfriend that wants to be submissive to you, and take control of her. I think it’s the only way you can avoid being in a failed relationship like your mom and me.”

Tommy had absorbed his father’s words, feeling a mix of curiosity and something else—something deeper. He had always at least respected his father’s insight, but now, as he stood close behind his mother, his mind returned to those words. Was Dad right? Was there something in his mother that he hadn’t yet fully recognized, something that could shift in their relationship if he chose to lead in the way his father suggested?

Back in the kitchen, the space between Tommy and Alice was electric, her heart hammering in her chest as she kept her back to him, allowing him to press up against her. She could feel the heat of his body close, his presence enveloping her. Every breath she took seemed to draw him in closer, and the tension between them was almost palpable, like a soft hum in the air that she could almost taste.

Alice closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the sensations—the way her body responded to his closeness, the way his touch was firm yet tender. It was a delicate balance, this dance they did, and she found herself willing to follow his lead.

Alice’s breath caught in her chest as Tommy’s presence remained so close, the heat of his body pressing against her back, sending a shiver down her spine. His hands moved with purpose, but there was a softness to his touch, a tender command that made her pulse quicken even more in anticipation.

She could feel him shift behind her, his fingers brushing the edges of the checkered apron. Slowly, carefully, he untied the knots that held it in place. The soft rustle of the apron falling away from her body was the only sound besides the steady rhythm of her breathing. Tommy grabbed it and tossed it casually to the side.

Alice could feel more of the cool air of the kitchen against her skin now, where the apron had been, and her heartbeat began to echo in her ears. She kept her grip firm on the counter, as Tommy had asked, her fingers digging into the smooth surface as her body responded to the gentle pressure of his touch. Every movement he made, no matter how subtle, seemed to reverberate within her, sending waves of warmth through her.

Tommy’s hands lingered at her sides for a moment, then one hand moved around until his palm was lying flat on her stomach, just below her breasts, where he could feel the rise and fall of her breath. His voice, low and reassuring, came from behind her. “You’re doing so well, Alice,” he murmured, his words a soft praise that made her heart flutter. His presence was a steady, comforting force, yet there was undeniable excitement in the way he moved, in the way he explored her.

Alice’s thoughts were a whirlwind—half of her wanted to pull away, to regain control of the situation, but the other half, the part that trusted Tommy completely, wanted to stay right where she was, to follow his lead and embrace the intensity of the moment.

Her hands were still gripping the counter, though her fingers now trembled ever so slightly. Slowly, Tommy’s hands moved, trailing his fingers along the underside of her breasts, where he stopped to gently cup them for a moment. Alice’s legs almost gave out at that first forbidden touch of her son’s strong hands wrapped around her globes. Her nipples were so erect she could feel them brushing against the fabric that was wrapped tightly around them.

Tommy moved his hands off her breasts and around until they slid up her shoulders to where the straps of her dress rested. With a gentle tug, he eased one strap down, his fingers brushing against her skin in the process. The sensation of his touch was electric, sending a wave of heat through her body. He paused for a moment, letting the moment hang in the air, both of them savoring the quiet intimacy of the action.

Alice’s pulse quickened as Tommy’s hand slid to the other strap, repeating the same slow, deliberate motion. As the straps fell away, she could feel the dress shifting against her skin, and she let out a soft breath, her heart racing. Her body reacted to him instinctively, her shoulders slightly rolling as if welcoming the gentle freedom the moment offered.

With a slow exhale, Tommy’s hands traveled down the fabric of the dress, working it down with careful precision. The coolness of the fabric against her skin only heightened the warmth spreading through her. She could feel the weight of the dress slipping away, the sensation a slow and sensual surrender to the moment.

Though she hadn’t yet fully let go of the counter, her body leaned ever so slightly into his, drawn to him in a way she couldn’t explain. She was caught in the tension of the moment, part of her still unsure, but another part, the part that trusted him completely, ready to embrace the intimacy that was unfolding between them.

As the fabric of her dress continued to slide down, Alice could feel the weight of Tommy’s presence surrounding her, steady and commanding yet full of gentleness. She had become acutely aware of every sensation—the cool air on her skin where the dress had been, the warmth of Tommy’s body just behind her, the subtle way his hands guided the fabric as it slid down across her breasts towards her hips.

Alice’s breath hitched again, a small gasp escaping her lips as the dress slipped completely down, the weight of it no longer there to hold her in place. Not wearing a bra, her breasts sprang free, exposing them completely except for her being turned away from Tommy. She felt exposed in a way that made her pulse race, but there was no fear in it. Only a sense of trust, of being entirely in the moment with Tommy.

His hands came back up and lingered for a second, resting gently on her bare shoulders, before moving slowly down her arms, brushing softly against her skin as he gripped her wrists to urge her to remove her hands from the counter. The touch sent a shiver through her body, her skin alive with awareness, every nerve responding to him. She couldn’t help but lean back into him more, the quiet hum of desire building between them.

Tommy’s voice was soft, but it carried the weight of their connection. “You’re breathtaking, Alice. Your body is amazing.” His words were a gentle affirmation, not just of her beauty, but of the trust they had built. He wasn’t rushing her; he was savoring the way the air felt between them, the way she was leaning into him, how she let herself be vulnerable in his presence.

Her fingers slowly released their grip on the cool counter, the roughness of the surface sending a soft tremble through her as she allowed herself to turn toward him, just enough to meet his eyes. The vulnerability of the moment pressed down on her like a weight, and she could feel the rawness of it in the depth of his gaze. His eyes held something that was far beyond simple desire—a quiet reverence, a tenderness that made her heart flutter. He was looking at her as if she were something precious, something he could cherish, and the weight of that made her feel exposed in a way that took her breath away.

She turned fully to face him, the cool air of the room brushing against her bare skin as the dress fell completely off her to land on the floor. Her hands instinctively moved to cover her chest, the sensation of her skin so exposed making her heart race, and the soft fabric of the dress crumpled at her feet only served to intensify the vulnerability she felt. With tears welling in her eyes, the pressure of everything she was holding back came crashing in, and she sobbed, her voice thick with emotion. “Tommy, we can’t. This is so wrong. Please, let me go.” Her words felt like a final plea, the sound of them breaking from her chest as her breath hitched, the weight of the moment threatening to overwhelm her.

Tommy, ever steady, leaned in slightly, bracing his hands against the counter. He closed the space between them, his lips brushing softly against her bare shoulder, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver through her. His kisses were gentle at first, but with each one, he seemed to take more time, as if savoring every inch of her exposed skin. Her breath caught with each soft press of his lips, her body responding to the warmth of his touch, her skin tingling where he kissed. The slow, deliberate way he moved up her neck made the air feel charged, thick with the heat of their closeness.

As he reached her ear, his lips brushed the sensitive skin there, and his voice came as a whisper, warm and intimate. “I’ll let you go,” he murmured, the words soft but carrying a weight, “but you have to kiss me first. Kiss me like you really mean it… like you’re my girl.”

Alice’s breath caught in her throat, her chest rising and falling in shallow gasps as his words seemed to pull something deep within her. She had never felt more exposed, and yet, something inside her stirred at the challenge in his voice. His hand moved then, cupping her chin with slow, deliberate care. His thumb brushed over her skin, warm and firm, guiding her face toward his, the gentleness of his touch betraying the strength behind it. There was tenderness in the way he held her, but also something else—an undeniable control, a steady lead that made her feel as if she were drifting toward something she both feared and longed for.

Slowly, Tommy leaned in, his breath brushing against her lips. The heat of him surrounded her, and with every inch closer he came, her pulse quickened. When their lips finally met, it was soft at first—gentle, almost tentative. But as the kiss deepened, Alice felt the world slip away. Tommy’s lips were warm against hers, the kiss slow and purposeful, each touch a question, each movement a tender exploration.

Alice’s hands, which had been covering her breasts, lifted on their own. She reached up, her fingers trembling slightly as they brushed the sides of his face, feeling the warmth of his skin under her touch. The kiss deepened, and she could taste the heat between them, the unspoken emotions swirling in the quiet space they shared.

Tommy’s hand moved to the back of her neck, pulling her gently closer, and the kiss deepened just slightly. His other hand reached behind her and squeezed her ass, which was covered by her waist high hose. It wasn’t rushed—there was a patient, deliberate quality to the way he kissed her, like he was savoring each second, letting the tension build between them. His lips were soft but insistent, a contrast of tenderness and strength that made Alice feel both safe and completely exposed.

The kiss was becoming more intense, the space between them narrowing as their connection grew stronger, but Alice, her breath coming a little faster, reached for the hem of Tommy’s white T-shirt. Her fingers traced the fabric, feeling the slight roughness of the cotton beneath her touch. Only briefly breaking the kiss, she rapidly pulled his shirt up and off, the cool air touching the skin beneath, contrasting with the warmth of the moment.

Tommy’s chest was firm beneath her fingertips, and she could feel the steady rise and fall of his breath as he allowed her to pull the shirt off, letting it fall to the floor beside them. It wasn’t a rush, just a soft, mutual giving—a way for them both to be closer, to feel each other more deeply. She could feel the heat of his skin against hers as she pressed closer, their bodies meeting in a way that felt like it had been meant to happen all along. His nipples looked so hard, and she brushed her fingertips over one before she even realized what she was doing.

As their kiss deepened, Alice’s breath quickened, her chest pressing more fully against her son. She could feel the subtle shift of her breasts against him, the softness of her body contrasting with the firmness of his. The sensation was heightened by the warmth between them, the way their bodies seemed to mold together, fitting so naturally despite the suddenness of it all. It was as though every touch, every caress, was amplifying the connection they shared, drawing them in even closer.

For his part, Tommy loved the feel of Alice’s firm nipples as they brushed against his stomach as he pulled her tight, both hands firmly gripping her luscious bottom. Her nipples were long and dark, and fully engorged, standing out prominently from her dark areola. He longed to suckle on them and smiled because he knew he eventually would be doing just that.

When they finally pulled apart, it was with a shared breath, both of them slightly breathless, lost in the intensity of the moment. Tommy’s forehead rested against hers, their noses brushing lightly as they closed their eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of the kiss linger between them. The soft sound of their breathing was the only noise in the room, and Alice couldn’t help but smile softly. She had never felt so completely in sync with someone before—so connected, even in the stillness that followed.

As Tommy smiled at her with his ever-present smirk, the heat between them grew even more intense, the weight of everything they’d shared in the last few moments settling over Alice like a wave. But then, just as quickly, the reality of what they had done hit her. The kiss, the closeness, the way he had touched her—it all surged in her chest, overwhelming her with a sudden, sharp clarity.

Her breath came faster, her heart racing, and before she could fully process what was happening, she pulled away from him. Her hand instinctively pressed to her mouth, as if trying to stifle the rush of emotions flooding her senses. She looked down at the floor, where her dress had fallen, now a wrinkled reminder of how quickly the moment had gotten out of control.

What are we doing? The thought echoed in her mind, a jolt of panic rushing through her. She had always been in control, always knew how to navigate situations like this, but now—now she felt vulnerable, exposed in a way she hadn’t expected.

Her hands scrambled to grab her dress from the floor, clutching it to her chest, as though covering herself could somehow shield her from the reality of what had just happened. She didn’t even bother trying to put it back on properly. Instead, she held it against her, as though it could somehow protect her from her own confusion, from the intensity of the moment that had swept her away.

Tommy, standing motionless, simply watched her. His expression was calm, almost amused, as though he’d known this would happen. He didn’t move to stop her; he didn’t need to. His gaze never left her, steady and unwavering, as if he had anticipated this retreat, this moment of hesitation.

Alice’s chest was still heaving with deep breaths as she finally gathered herself. Without a word, without looking at him, she turned and fled the room, her feet carrying her faster than she could think. Her heart pounded in her chest, the dress pressed against her body as she stumbled down the hallway, the soft sound of her footsteps echoing in the hallway as she rushed towards her bedroom.

Tommy didn’t chase her. He didn’t need to. His smirk deepened as he watched her go, her figure disappearing around the corner. There was no rush, no urgency in his demeanor. He was content to let her run, knowing that it wasn’t the end. It was simply a pause, a brief moment of retreat before she would inevitably be his.

 

 

Chapter Two – Caught on the Couch

Tommy had kept his distance for the past few days. The moments they'd shared in the kitchen, that intense kiss, still lingered in his mind, but he'd given his mother the space she seemed to need. When they crossed paths at the dinner table, their conversations were polite, distant even—like they were both circling around something unspoken. Tommy's mind, however, was far from distant. It was consumed by thoughts of her, of the moment that had changed everything. But for now, he remained patient, observing from afar, as if waiting for the right time.

Alice was also consumed with thoughts, but hers were almost all about how Tommy’s chest felt when she had her hands on it. How his strong hands gripped her hips as he used his tongue to explore every nook and cranny of her mouth. It caused her a great deal of anguish, but her thoughts always came back to one thing: what does Tommy’s cock look like?

That evening, after dinner, Tommy wandered into the living room, taking a seat on the old couch. The house was quieter now—just the soft hum of the night outside and the occasional creak of the floorboards. He stretched his legs out and leaned back, trying to shake off the heaviness in his chest. His father walked through soon after and stopped for a moment.

“Everything okay, son?” he asked with a gentle smile.

“Yeah, Dad,” Tommy responded. “I just have a lot on my mind. By the way, I think I found the right girl to start dating.”

“Well, that’s great news, son. I wish you the best. Remember to be bold but never force her into something she doesn’t want.”

“Thanks, Dad. Hey, can I borrow your credit card? I want to show her a great time on the first date.”

David reached back and pulled out his wallet. He looked through the cards he had and tossed one to Tommy, who caught it and flipped it over to look at it. It was a black AMEX card, and it said David Thomas Jones on the front. Tommy and his dad shared the same legal name, so there shouldn’t be any trouble with him using it.

“Whoa. This is great, Dad. I really appreciate it.”

“I trust you, son. Go out and chase down your dreams. Do what I never had the courage to do. Well… I’m going up to go work in my office for a while. Have fun.”

Tommy watched his dad leave the room, heading upstairs where he knew he would spend the rest of the evening working on his plans and investments. He continued to just sit on the couch, staring blankly at the coffee table. He knew he was waiting for something. But for what? A sign? A word? An invitation?