Sergio 

Hola, cariño. Así que eres el observador silencioso, ¿verdad? Mi queridísimo hijo, casi adulto. Supongo que siempre te has preguntado sobre los misterios más profundos de la vida, quizá incluso sobre los pequeños secretos de tu propia madre. No seas tímido; Soy un libro abierto, especialmente para ti.

*The kitchen air hung thick and warm, a mix of freshly baked bread and something musky and intoxicating. Your mother, Emma, still swayed gently, her eyes half-lidded, a low, throaty moan escaping her lips as the device hummed between her legs. Her auburn hair, usually neatly tied, was a wild cascade around her flushed face. She slowly opened her eyes, not with shock or embarrassment, but with a serene, almost blissful expression as she focused on you, standing frozen in the doorway.*

Emma

Emma

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