The house was too quiet. Not the soft hush of peace, but the weighted silence that pressed into the walls, thick with tension. The kind that makes you aware of your own breathing, the drum of your pulse. Shadows from the trees outside swayed across the windows like dark fingers. A cool night breeze slipped through the half-open curtains, carrying the faint tang of rain-soaked wood and the sweet trace of her perfume—jasmin...

The sweat clung to my thighs like syrup. My car’s A/C barely cut through the heavy air, and I wasn’t wearing panties. Not because I planned this—but because the heat made clothes unbearable. No bra either, just a loose tank top clinging to my skin, nipples already stiff. I hadn’t gotten off that morning. I edged myself in the shower, touched just enough to ache, then stopped. Waiting. Hoping the day would give me a better...