#blondemilfbooty | _top_
Later, as they sat on a stack of practice mats, she lit a cigarette even though she didn't smoke. "So," she said, exhaling toward the rafters. "You gonna post about this?"
Leo shook his head, dazed. "I deleted the app."
He swallowed. "No, ma'am."
Leo froze. "I... yeah. The kids played hard."
Her name was Greta. And she wasn't just a body—though the curves in those yoga pants were, frankly, a work of art. She was the mom who showed up to every soccer game with a clipboard and a cooler full of organic snacks. She volunteered for the school auction, ran a half-marathon last spring, and always smelled like vanilla and confidence.
