Chapter 4: Back Pain Gets Worse

Lunch had barely ended when Tara started wincing in the living room, one hand pressed dramatically to the small of her back while she shifted on the couch. The afternoon sun poured through the windows, turning the air thick and warm. She’d changed after the laundry room into something even more dangerous: a tiny black sports bra that looked two sizes too tight for her chest, the fabric already damp with a faint sheen of sweat from the humid day, and a pair of tight grey boy shorts that rode high on her hips, the material stretched thin across the generous curve of her ass.

I was pretending to scroll on my phone, but my eyes kept drifting. Every small movement made her full breasts jiggle inside the bra, the damp cloth clinging to the stiff outlines of her nipples. The laundry tease from earlier still burned in my head—her bent over the machine, the damp spot on those black panties, the way she’d pressed the warm fabric into my hand upstairs and whispered that filthy little secret. My cock had barely softened since then. Now it stirred again, heavy and insistent against my thigh.

“That long drive and all the laundry really did a number on me, Ryan,” she said, rubbing her lower back with a theatrical groan. “My back is killing me. Would you be an angel and give your aunt a proper massage? Just like you started yesterday in the kitchen.”

Her voice stayed sweet, but the way her eyes held mine carried that same knowing spark. I nodded before my brain could catch up, throat tight. She smiled, stood, and spread a large beach towel across the living-room floor right in front of the couch. Then she lowered herself face-down, arching her back slightly so her ass lifted in invitation. The boy shorts pulled even tighter, riding up to expose the soft lower curves of her cheeks.

“Straddle my hips for better leverage, sweetie,” she murmured into the towel. “It’ll help you get deeper.”

My pulse hammered as I swung one leg over her and settled my weight. My cock—already half-hard again—settled right in the warm cleft between her ass cheeks through my shorts. The heat of her body soaked straight through the thin layers. She let out a contented sigh, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and I poured a generous stream of massage oil into my palms. The slick, warm liquid pooled and glistened as I rubbed my hands together, the faint herbal scent filling the room.