Chapter 2: Morning Coffee and Accidental Flashes

Sunlight sliced through the blinds and painted warm stripes across my bed, but I was already awake, cock half-hard and twitching against my thigh from the dream that wouldn’t let go. Her tits crushed against my chest again, that soft, endless give, the heat of her nipples dragging slow circles while she whispered my name like a secret. The memory of last night’s forehead kiss still burned there, right at my hairline, like she’d branded me. I lay there a second longer, heart kicking, then forced myself up, yanked on a pair of loose gym shorts and a faded tee, and padded downstairs trying to look like a normal nephew instead of the guy who’d jerked himself raw to thoughts of his step-aunt less than eight hours ago.

The kitchen smelled like fresh coffee—strong, dark, the kind that promised a long day. And there she was.

Tara stood at the counter with her back to me, wearing nothing but one of my old college T-shirts. It barely skimmed the tops of her thighs, the thin gray fabric so worn it was almost see-through in the morning light. Tiny black panties peeked out underneath, the lace edges framing the lower curve of her ass like an invitation. No bra. Her heavy breasts moved freely beneath the shirt, the outline of her nipples already stiff from the cool air, pushing little peaks against the cotton. Her dark hair spilled loose over one shoulder, messy and sexy, like she’d just rolled out of bed and decided the world could deal with it.

She turned, two mugs in her hands, and that warm, wicked smile lit her face. “Morning, sleepyhead. I made your favorite—extra strong with cream, just how you like it.”

The shirt rode up as she walked toward me, giving quick, heart-stopping flashes of smooth ass cheek and the way the black lace disappeared between them. My mouth went dry. She set the mugs down on the island, then reached past me for the sugar on the top shelf. Her body pressed full against my back—those plush, heavy breasts squashing warm and soft right between my shoulder blades, spreading out like warm dough, nipples dragging slow and deliberate across my skin through the thin layers. The heat of her was insane, the soft weight pinning me in place, her scent wrapping around me again, sweet cherry warmth mixed with clean sleep and something richer underneath.