Even though the phone would normally be a good idea. I know that I'm just too tiny to be able to affect the screen at all. And at the best, when Mom leaves the bathroom, she would probably check her phone and tilt it downwards without seeing me, causing me to tumble to my doom. At the worst, she thinks I'm a tiny gnat or something and squishes me with her finger to rub me off the screen. Although using the phone isn't an option, what I can do is move close to it on that side of the bed. After all, when most people get on beds they get on it from the side and I don't want to risk getting smothered onto the mattress.
Moving to the other side of the bed is a several minute journey like any distance of a few feet or more at this size. Going up and down wrinkles in the sheets, I am soon at the foot of the bed, near the phone. Then in the far distance from the bathroom, I hear the sound of the drain being unplugged as gallons among gallons of water finds its way down the pipes. The thought of being in the tub while that's going on is terrifying to me. The sound of splashing is heard and then minutes of rummaging in the bathroom before silence.
The loud, ominous creaking of the door breaks the silence and out walks Mom wearing a white robe with a white towel wrapped around her wet hair. Her tall body moist and glistening. She is so far away that she's blurry to me but she starts walking, the wood floor moaning under her weight with each booming step accompanied by the slapping noise of her barefeet. She towers over the bed that took me awhile to climb and walks right past it, her body producing a strong breeze that makes waves on the sheets as she passes that spreads her soapy scent through the air. Mom walks out the bedroom door leaving it cracked open and I'm left wondering if she plans on being in the living room, she could be going to the kitchen to cook but she usually doesn't cook when she comes home after working overtime.
I am left wondering if I should stay on the bed or begin a climb down to start walking to the living room or try getting help from Cindy instead when the door swings to full open and I see my mom carrying a glass of red wine. She walks to the side of the bed that I was on earlier, putting the glass on her bedside table and then she bends down to set a knee on the bed before lowering the rest of her body onto it to sit down with her back against her pillows and headboard. The bed bucks and bounces wildly while the mattress springs groan at the weights imposed on them. I manage to hold on to the sheets instead of being launched into the air by the chaos. Eventually all settles down and I'm left staring at my mom in the distance. Her legs slightly spread to reveal her canyon-like pussy under her robe while she pulled out a book from the drawer of the bedside table.
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