Three days had passed since that frantic kitchen encounter. Jake had kept his distance, mowing his lawn, waving at Lisa across the fence like nothing had happened. But the memory of her tight, soaked p***y clenching around him on the counter played on repeat in his mind. Then, late on Thursday evening, his phone buzzed.
Tom’s flight delayed. Won’t be home until tomorrow afternoon. Kids still at my sister’s. I can’t stop thinking about you. Please come over. Back door’s unlocked. Hurry.
Jake didn’t hesitate. He waited until full dark, then slipped across the shared backyard and through the Millers’ back door. The house was quiet except for the low hum of the fridge. Lisa met him in the hallway wearing nothing but a silk robe that barely reached mid-thigh. Her hair was down, eyes dark with
