Mum worked full time and kept the house clean, without any help from my father. He sat on the bed’s edge, the mattress dipping under his weight, and rolled the first stocking up his leg,Porn his touch gentle as the glossy black fabric stretched over his calf, hugging the muscle he’d worked so hard that day. “But you’re not doing it in that.” She gestured to the tattered pantyhose and the oversized t-shirt, her tone sharp but wavering. She shoved at him again, weaker this time, and he tightened her grip, leaning closer.

“No, seriously,” he pressed, her tone teasing, almost gleeful.