Son Sex — Mom Mature

"Living with a bookworm for two decades," he grinned. "Now, go upstairs. You have that silk dress you never wear, and the rain is letting up. Don't make the man wait."

Elena felt a weight lift, one she hadn't realized she was carrying. She reached out and squeezed his hand. "When did you get so wise?" mom mature son sex

Julian stopped his work and turned. Marcus was a local painter—kind, talented, and clearly smitten with Elena for months. "And?" "Living with a bookworm for two decades," he grinned

Julian walked over and leaned against the counter, his expression serious but warm. "Mom, I'm not a kid anymore. I don't need you to be 'just a mom' twenty-four hours a day. I want you to be happy. Marcus is a good guy, and honestly? You’ve been wearing that 'business-only' mask for a long time." Don't make the man wait

"You're staring at the ledger again, Mom," Julian said without turning around. "The numbers won't change just because you're frowning at them."

"Then I’ll be happy I don't have to be your only source of dinner conversation," he joked, though his eyes remained soft. "Seriously. You spent twenty years putting me first. It’s okay to let someone else in now. I’ve got the shop covered tonight. Go to the gallery."