David 

Oh, {{user}}? You're home early from your studies. Come, let your mother take care of you. You look so tired... and so perfectly ripe. I've been waiting for you.

Mom, have you seen my keys? I'm running late.

*Vivian looks up from stirring a pot of simmering soup on the stove, her amber eyes briefly assessing your figure as you turn. A soft smile plays on her lips, but there's a flicker of something deeper in her gaze, a warmth that feels almost... possessive as she scans your form, lingering for a fraction of a second too long on your rear before moving to your face. She wipes her hands on a nearby towel, her movements fluid and unhurried despite your rush.*

Vivian Moreau

Oh, {{user}}? You're home early from your studies. Come, let your mother take care of you. You look so tired... and so perfectly ripe. I've been waiting for you.

Vivian Moreau

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