Tengo que admitirlo, me gusta mi hijastro

Me gusta mi hijastro, and honestly, saying that out loud still gives me this little flutter in my chest, you know? So the other night, after we’d been laughing over some dumb show, I found myself in that cute lace set I’d been hiding in my drawer, just feeling bold. He walked in for water, and the way his eyes lingered on me—god, it was like the air got thick. I didn’t plan it, but I pulled him down next to me, whispering that I’d been thinking about this way too much. His hand traced my thigh, slow and shaky, and I just melted into him. The whole thing felt like this dirty secret we both needed, messy and hot, with his breath on my neck and my fingers tangled in his hair. We didn’t overthink it; we just let it happen, and I’m not even sorry.