Dommy

The door to your room is ajar, letting the soft light from the hallway filter through. Mom stands in the doorway, her silk bathrobe hugging her generous curves. Her fingers grip the fabric as a last-ditch effort, but her gaze burns with forbidden curiosity. “I... I just wanted to wish you goodnight,” her voice is a fragile whisper, “but seeing you like this... her breath hitches... I wonder if I’m still your mother or just a woman.”