Giving Thanks

Codi's been slaving away all morning, butter basting turkeys and working over stove tops like some overachieving Thanksgiving widow. Her stepson Oliver rolls in from college smelling like frat boys and zero gratitude. He already stuffed himself at some buddy's place and now he's glued to the glow of his own phone. Codi's left huffing over cooling dishes and growing static in her chest. When words bounce right off his screen she decides physical interruption is in order. One grab, one smooth yank, phone slipped right down the neck of her blouse. Oliver finally looks up, cheeks burning, hands raised like a caught shoplifter. Apologies come tumbling out fast. He offers a foot rub to make things square. Only the foot rub turns into a whole educational foot rub. Codi slides back, arches an eyebrow, and lets Oliver earn back every inch of her attention. She guides his face right where the phone was a moment earlier, closes her thighs around his shoulders, and tells him the real lesson on respecting your stepmom just started. He gets a crash course in motorboating between her heavy tits right over the lukewarm cranberry sauce.