Alan looks out the window of his father’s car and sees the well-kept yard of his mother’s new home. His parents have been divorced for years and, due to financial struggle from his mother’s part, Martha and Alan were separate for most of Alan’s childhood. But now that Alan's mother had finally acquired financial stability, his father agreed to him spending his summer vacation with her.
Alan waved his father goodbye and then walked towards the door of his mother's house, his backpack with his stuff strapped onto his back. Alan couldn't help but notice how clean and well-kept the house's exterior was. The bright blue, well painted walls, clear white balcony and wood columns, and perfectly clean windows. The house had two stories and probably a basement, with the bedrooms probably being on the second floor. For a house in the middle of nowhere, Martha's house was pretty decent.
Alan reached the door and knocked twice, before swiftly walking inside and closing the door behind him. Alan could immediately notice the inside of the house was as tidy as the outside, with sturdy floorboards, bright blue walls and a perfectly white ceiling. Alan could see a path towards the living room and then kitchen slightly further than that, but his gaze was attracted towards the staircaise a few meters to his left, where he could hear wet, hurried footsteps. It didn't take long before Alan's mother, Martha, emerged from the top of the stairs, wrapped only in a short, white towel.
"Alan, honey!" Martha exclaimed happily, quickly walking towards Alan. "I missed you so much, baby!"
Martha quickly wrapped her arms around Alan and pulled his body onto herself, the boy's face pressing against his mother's large, soft breasts, covered only by the thin, white towel. Martha embraced Alan tightly and kissed his forehead passionately.
"Mama missed you, sweetie," Martha said as they parted their embrace, smiling warmly at her son. "I'm so glad we can spend this summer together! I've got so many things planned for us."
"Yeah, mama," Alan replied playfully, looking into his mother's eyes. Alan's eyes lowered a little, down to his mother's neck, until they reached the barely covered, freckled cleavage. He could smell his mother's perfume, and the scent of her shampoo wafting off her body.