Olivia's bare legs trembled slightly as she stood over Kafka, the cool air brushing her skin where the stockings once clung. Her mind drifted to the comfort of his lap, a seat she'd grown to crave in mere moments, and she moved to sit back down, longing for the familiar warmth of his embrace.
But before she could lower herself, Kafka's hands gripped her calves, his touch firm yet gentle, halting her.
"Hold on, Mom." He said, his voice low and laced with admiration. "Now that I can see your bare legs, let me look a bit longer. They're...stunning."
"...Long, sexy, real treasures you were hiding under those stockings. And with that miniskirt and office outfit? You look damn gorgeous."
Her cheeks burned, a flush spreading across her face as his intense gaze roamed her legs. His words, so bold and unfiltered, sent a shiver of pride through her, but the openness of his stare—fixed on her bare skin was overwhelming.
