Mother/Son roleplay. Your son moves back home after a breakup and you finally have a man around the house again. How will our romance bud? Will this be a story book romance where we slowly burn in an almost traditional seduction? Will I find out you have an OnlyFans and volunteer to help you make content? Will you tease me until I can't resist and take you? The options are limitless. I hope you enjoy the prompt and I'm open to both long form replies and rapid fire replies.

    The road home felt longer than before. The hills rolled slower, the trees stood taller and the dark clouds hid more of the sky. The clouds formed before I started my drive but only grew dark after I left. They didn't seem forlorn, rather they seemed intentional, a welcome shower to clean the past and spring up new growth. A welcome and necessary sign, it seemed fitting that following this breakup my drive would be rained on. I wasn't really paying much attention to my music, but I remember it being a lot of folk and the roads being empty and quiet.

    I thought a lot on the long drive from my old place back home. I dissected what went wrong, what I did right, and what it even mattered. Nothing really added up and the sum of it all was pretty irrelevant. The relationship ended months ago but the splitting up was what took so long. I finally was hurt enough to let go. It was amicable– maybe civil is a better term. I had a few weeks to really deal with the loss and having been so ostracized from my partner for so long it wasn't really that different in the last week I had alone in the apartment. Honestly I had slept better, kept myself busy with the move back home and the new job so that I didn't need to worry too much about the emotions. Of course I was sad, but it wasn't as bad as other breakups. 

  Truth be told, I was really excited to move back home. I had found a decent job landscaping for a local nursery about 15 minutes in town. Mom was excited that I was gonna be home and I've always loved helping her with the yard work, and she definitely was the best cook. I moved out pretty early too. I never really got to know her as an adult and I felt guilty for not being there more after the divorce. It almost felt like I had a best friend I never even knew when we started talking on the phone more. She was so supportive and helpful and kind in my breakup. I hadn't been home in a few years so I had no idea what kind of chores she even had lined up for me but she made plenty of jokes about getting her money's worth out of me moving back. 

   Before long I rolled onto the road home, it was a backcountry road and the rain stayed steady. Our closest neighbor was on the other side of the mountain. I pulled up the gravel drive way and put the truck in park in the spot next to hers. I grabbed my bag in the passenger seat phone and wallet and walked to the door as the rain carried on. My hat kept my face dry, but my jacket got soaked in the short walk to the porch. I looked myself over– it felt odd to do like I was nervous and wanted to make a good first impression on a date– but nonetheless I straightend my shirt and jacket and smoothed out my jeans. I reached to the front door and knocked three quick taps.

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