I was invited to my girlfriend's house for the first time, six months into dating. Her mother Kana greeted me at the door — stunning, incredible figure, and in a suit that did things to me. My girlfriend stopped existing; all I had was nerves and arousal. Kana sells insurance, and she pitched me with “Kenji, shouldn't you start thinking about the future?” while working in some obscene touching. My crotch went rock solid on that grown-woman heat, and she noticed, and quietly took care of it by hand where my girlfriend couldn't see. Ever since then, every visit to that house means another secret meeting with Kana.