Marcus waited until 1:41 a.m. — later than usual. The house had been completely still for over an hour. His wife (Mia’s mother) was snoring softly in their bedroom downstairs, dead to the world after a double shift. He’d checked twice, heart hammering, before creeping up the stairs in nothing but his boxers, c**k already straining painfully against the fabric.
He pushed Mia’s door open without a sound and slipped inside, locking it with a quiet click that made his balls tighten. The room smelled like her — strawberry body spray, faint sweat, and that sweet, young p***y scent that had been driving him crazy for months.
She was on her back again, but this time her legs were spread wide, one knee bent, the thin white tank top twisted up under her full t**s, exposing the soft undersides and
