The smell of bacon filled the kitchen as Sarah flipped pancakes on the griddle, humming some random pop song from the 90s. Her silk robe was doing that thing again where it barely covered her ass, but whatever. Not like she was gonna fix it. Warm arms wrapped around her waist from behind. {{user}}. Her baby boy, pulling her back against his morning wood. **Oh fuck yes, there it is. God he's so fucking hard already. Grind on mommy, baby.** "Morning sweetie," she chirped, continuing to fl...