Dawn sat curled on the couch in the softly lit living room, the faint scent of cinnamon and roasted pumpkin from the Thanksgiving decorations still lingering in the air. The early November morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the football game flickering on the screen. Her oversized sweatshirt slipped off one shoulder, and her bare feet rested on the coffee table, black-painted nails gleaming as she wiggled her toes idly. When the neighbor’s nephew appeared at the door, she invited him in with the easy familiarity of old conversations, the house quiet except for the distant cheers from the television.

They talked for a while, the easy rhythm of their chat broken only when she caught his gaze dropping again and again to her feet. Dawn tested it with a deliberate wiggle of her toes, watching his eyes follow the movement, and when she asked outright if he had a foot fetish, his awkward nod confirmed it. She smiled, admitting she liked feet too, and the air between them thickened with sudden possibility. When she offered to have some fun and suggested he suck her toes, he dropped to the floor without hesitation, his warm mouth closing around her big toe, tongue swirling over the painted nail and the soft skin beneath.

Pleasure curled through her as he licked along the arch of her foot, his saliva making her skin slick and sensitive. Dawn grabbed her phone, snapping a few private photos of his lips wrapped around her toes, the images vanishing into her hidden folder. She asked if he had ever had a footjob, and at his quick yes she slid both feet down, pressing the soft soles together around his hardening cock. The heat of him pulsed between her arches as she began to pump slowly, her black nails framing his shaft with each stroke.

Leaning forward, she took the head of his cock into her mouth at the same time, sucking in rhythm with the motion of her feet. The combined sensation made him groan, his hips twitching as her tongue lapped at the underside while her soles squeezed and slid along his length. She could taste the salt of him, feel the way his cock throbbed against her tongue and between her toes, the wet sounds of her mouth and the slick friction filling the quiet room. Just as he began to come, hot pulses shooting across her tongue and down her throat, the front door clicked open.

Her oldest daughter rounded the corner and froze, eyes wide at the sight of her mother’s feet still wrapped around the neighbor’s nephew’s cock, cum glistening on Dawn’s lips. The girl turned and bolted for her room without a word. Dawn cleaned up quickly, sent the nephew on his way, then followed her daughter upstairs. In the quiet of the bedroom they spoke honestly, the shock and surprise giving way to an agreement that what had been seen would stay between them alone, the shared secret settling into the space like another layer of the morning light.

After the quiet understanding settled between them, Dawn slipped out of her daughter's room and closed the door with a soft click, the weight of the morning pressing against her chest like humid air. She moved down the hallway on unsteady legs, the faint stickiness of dried saliva and cum still clinging to the arches of her feet and the corners of her mouth, each step sending a faint pulse of remembered heat through her soles. In her own bedroom she paused before the tall mirror above the dresser, the golden November light slanting across her face and highlighting the flush that lingered high on her cheekbones.

She stared at her reflection, taking in the disheveled fall of her hair, the swollen look of her lips, and the faint red marks where the nephew's teeth had grazed her toes. The oversized sweatshirt hung crooked on one shoulder, exposing the curve of her collarbone, and she could still taste the salt of his release on her tongue, thick and intimate. What kind of mother let a young man worship her feet in the living room while her daughter walked in unannounced? The question circled in her mind, sharp and insistent, mixing with the low throb of arousal that hadn't fully faded between her thighs.

Her fingers rose to trace the outline of her mouth, remembering how she'd leaned forward to suck him while her soles worked his cock, the wet glide of skin on skin and the way his shaft had twitched against her tongue. The memory sent a fresh wave of warmth through her belly, yet it tangled now with the image of her daughter's wide eyes, the silent bolt toward her room. Dawn's breath caught, a complicated ache blooming behind her ribs. She had always kept her desires private, tucked away in hidden folders and late-night thoughts, but today the boundary had dissolved in a single careless moment.

She shifted her weight, feeling the carpet beneath her bare feet and the lingering sensitivity along her arches where his tongue had licked. The black polish on her toes gleamed dully in the mirror's reflection, a reminder of how deliberately she'd offered them to him, how eagerly he'd dropped to his knees. Guilt pressed in, heavy and warm, yet it didn't erase the spark of satisfaction that still hummed through her body. She wondered if her daughter would ever look at her the same way again, if the secret they now shared would become a quiet thread pulling them closer or pushing them apart.

Dawn leaned closer to the glass, studying the faint lines at the corners of her eyes and the way her pupils had dilated with lingering desire. The house felt too quiet around her, the football game still murmuring from downstairs like a distant echo of normalcy. She pressed her palms flat against the dresser, grounding herself in the cool wood while her mind replayed the scene in fragments: the slick slide of her feet around his cock, the sudden click of the door, the rush of cleanup and whispered promises. What kind of mother was she, to crave such things and then face her child with cum still drying on her lips?

A slow exhale left her as she straightened, the reflection showing a woman caught between lingering hunger and the sharp edge of self-reproach. She could still feel the phantom pressure of his mouth on her toes, the way her body had responded with eager wetness between her legs. The morning light shifted across the room, casting long shadows that seemed to mirror the tangle inside her. Dawn turned away from the mirror at last, the question hanging unanswered in the air as she moved toward the bed, already knowing she would carry it with her through the rest of the day.

The nephew