I smiled as I heard the heavy thud of his boots in the hallway, feeling a spark of heat ignite deep in my belly. Being a Sexy Gilf means I know exactly how to get what I want, and today, I wanted to see just how much my sweet boy had grown. He was visiting for the afternoon, looking for a little comfort from his favorite girl, and I had the perfect plan to turn a simple snack into a feast he would never forget.
“I made your favorite, darling,” I called out, my voice smooth and honeyed as I pulled the tray from the oven. The kitchen was thick with the scent of warm chocolate and vanilla, a sweet trap designed to bring him right to my side. He walked in, towering over me with that raw, masculine energy that made my breath hitch, his presence filling the room in a way that made me feel deliciously small.
I poured a tall, cold glass of milk, my movements slow and deliberate, making sure he caught the way my silk robe draped over my curves. I took a cookie, still warm and gooey, and held it up to his lips with a playful glint in my eyes. “Taste it,” I whispered, watching as his gaze dropped to my mouth, his own hunger clearly shifting from the food to the woman standing before him.
He took a bite, his fingers brushing against mine, and I felt a jolt of pure electricity shoot up my arm. The innocence of the moment was dissolving, replaced by a thick, heavy tension that made the air feel like velvet against my skin. I dipped a finger into the glass of milk and slowly licked it clean, never breaking eye contact as I saw his pupils blow wide with realization. I wasn’t just babysitting; I was inviting him into a forbidden world where rules didn’t exist and desires were meant to be fed.
I leaned in closer, the warmth of his body radiating against mine, and whispered how much I’d missed having a strong man around the house to take care of me. He didn’t pull away; instead, he reached out, his hand resting heavy and warm on my waist, pulling me into his space. The milk and cookies sat forgotten on the counter as the kitchen transformed into a playground of illicit craving.
I was addicted to the look of shock and longing on his face, a beautiful mix of confusion and surrender that told me I had him exactly where I wanted him. Today, he wasn’t just my grandson; he was the answer to every lonely thought I’d ever had, and I was going to make sure this afternoon lasted forever.
Yolanda
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