She bent over to open the washing machine door, her gown riding up just enough for the fabric to slip neatly between her cheeks, outlining her toned ass in a way that made Travis's breath hitch.
The soft sway of her hips as she reached inside the machine only made it worse. For a fleeting second, he imagined pressing against her, but he quickly forced his eyes away, jaw tightening.
'24 already, things are going way better than I thought they would. But damn, I've gone through too much stimulation today. I genuinely need to find someone to release it all on before I die,' he thought, dragging a hand down his face to clear the heat building in his body.
Debbie shoved the last of the clothes inside, straightened up, and turned toward him. She noticed how Travis kept his back to her, as if afraid to look. A small, knowing smile tugged at her lips.
'He's still the shy boy I raised,' she mused fondly, stepping closer.
But as she circled around him, her eyes landed on the unmistakable bulge straining against his underwear. For a second, the world seemed to stop.
Her lips parted, her throat tightening as her eyes widened. 'Holy mother of pearl!! It's huge!' she thought, heat prickling across her skin at the shameless display.
[System Notification]
Affection +3% — Debbie's current affection: 24% → 27%
『27%』
Realizing where her gaze lingered, Travis's instincts kicked in. He hastily cupped himself, face burning red.
"I—I better leave now," he stammered, not daring to meet her eyes.
Debbie blinked, cheeks flushing as she snapped herself back to reality. But before she could respond, Travis darted up the stairs, two steps at a time.
The door burst open and he almost smacked right into Jenny, who was lazily stretched across the couch. She sat up instantly, her sharp eyes narrowing on his bare chest, the sweat-slick muscles, the V-line disappearing into his underwear.
For a second, Jenny forgot to breathe.
Travis froze, equally shocked at the timing, before quickly shutting the door to his room with a slam.
Jenny remained on the couch, staring blankly at the door. Her heart beat faster, her lips twitching between a frown and a smirk.
'When did that happen? That body… that's not the same Travis. He's… gorgeous' she thought, suddenly feeling her throat go dry. Curiosity and something darker tugged at her.
[System Notification]
Affection +4% — Jenny's current affection: 13% → 17%
『17%』
Inside his room, Travis flopped onto the bed, burying his face into the pillow.
'They only want me for my body,' he thought dramatically, though the corner of his lips tugged upward despite himself.
Meanwhile, Debbie stood frozen in the laundry room, her hand still hovering over the washing machine door. Her mind replayed the image of Travis's body—his broad shoulders, the sculpted ridges of his abs, and the sheer size that had caught her so off guard.
'Wow. Who knew he'd end up so gifted? He's even bigger than his father,' she reflected, heat curling through her as a strange cocktail of pride, guilt, and intrigue tightened in her chest. She shook her head, trying to push the thought aside, but the image lingered stubbornly.
---
Later that evening, everything seemed calm when Travis stepped out of the bathroom, steam still rolling off his skin. His damp hair clung to his forehead as he towel-dried quickly, slipping into a fresh T-shirt and jeans. Despite the shower, his mind felt cluttered—too many eyes had been on him today, too many moments where his body betrayed him.
He sat at his desk, powering through a stack of homework with unusual focus, as if keeping busy would silence the thoughts circling his head. By the time he zipped his bag shut, the sun had dipped, painting the windows with streaks of gold.
Travis headed downstairs, shoes in hand. Debbie was at the dining table setting out plates, the smell of stew filling the house. She looked up, her expression softening when she saw him.
"Where are you going? Dinner's ready," she asked, her voice casual but tinged with the faintest hope he'd stay.
Travis paused, tightening the strap of his bag. "I can't stay, Mia offered to help me catch up on the revision for the past few weeks. I missed a lot of work."
Debbie's lips curved into a knowing smile, though her chest tugged faintly at his excuse. "Oh, Mia... It's been a while since I've seen her. How's she doing?"
"She's good," Travis replied, a small smile tugging at his mouth. "We're really close again. I hope you don't mind me skipping dinner."
'So much work. Fuck, it doesn't matter though. It'll all be worth it later,' Travis thought, his eyes narrowing with determination as he adjusted his bag strap.
Behind him, Debbie leaned on the table with her chin resting on her hand, her gaze soft but teasing.
"Don't be silly, honey, go enjoy your youth. Don't let this old hag stop you from finding love," she said with a playful smile, though her voice carried a warmth that was hard to miss.
Travis turned back, giving her a look that was half-serious, half-affectionate.
"Don't belittle yourself, Debbie. You're beautiful, seriously. If I didn't know you my whole life, I'd swear you were in your early twenties."
Her laughter bubbled out, a little higher-pitched than normal, and her cheeks flushed a light pink. "Oh, come on, don't fib, Travis. But thanks for those sweet words. You're really turning into a lady killer."
He stepped closer, one arm sliding around her waist, lowering just slightly as he leaned in. "I would never lie to you. And… about earlier, I'm sorry. It's uncontrollable, honestly."
The memory of the laundry room flashed in Debbie's mind, and her blush deepened. Still, she smiled warmly, brushing it off with practiced ease. "Oh, no worries, sweetie. It's normal. Now go see that girl. I'll keep your food in the microwave. And hey—" she wagged her finger at him, though her lips curved mischievously— "wear protection. I'm not ready to be a grandma just yet."
Travis squinted his eyes at her, a mix of disbelief and amusement crossing his face. "Really, Debbie?" he muttered, but he didn't push the subject further. With a small shake of his head, he headed for the door.
The lock clicked softly behind him, leaving Debbie alone at the table. She stared at her untouched plate for a long moment, her thoughts drifting.
'Mia, huh? He's always had a crush on her… now that I think about it.'
---
The evening air was cool and refreshing as Travis walked down the quiet streets, the hum of streetlamps buzzing faintly above. He made his way toward Mia's house, the anticipation of seeing her sparking a subtle energy in his step.
When he arrived, she was waiting just outside, dressed in a cute outfit that hugged her figure in all the right ways. The soft glow of the porch light framed her like a scene from a romance flick.
Travis's lips curled into a natural smile as he reached out and gently patted her head. She froze for a moment, then blushed softly, tilting her face away in embarrassment.
"How'd you convince your mother?" Travis asked casually as they began walking side by side. His tone was light, but his eyes held a teasing glint.
Mia blinked at him, confused for a second, before a smirk tugged at her lips. "What do you mean convinced?" she asked, clearly amused, her tone almost daring him to explain himself.
Travis chuckled, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her a little closer as they strolled. He leaned in, his breath brushing against her ear. "I like myself a bad girl," he whispered.
Her entire face lit up crimson, her steps faltering slightly as her composure cracked. She giggled shyly, the sound like something out of an anime, soft and endearing. "Stop teasing me," she mumbled, but her smile betrayed her.
They continued walking until the tall silhouette of the library came into view. To Travis's surprise, the lights inside were still glowing, a small Open sign swaying on the glass door. He paused, raising a brow as his gaze landed on the freshly posted hours:
"Well, that's convenient," he thought, smirking to himself before glancing at Mia. She caught his look and rolled her eyes with a shy smile, pushing the door open.
Together, they stepped inside, the faint smell of paper and polished wood wrapping around them, the library unusually quiet except for the soft hum of the ceiling fans above.
TO BE CONTINUED