"You need to be punished even more. How dare you look at me indecently?" Mrs. Smith's voice dripped with mock authority as she circled around him. She lowered herself onto his back, straddling him with a mischievous smile. "Now, do twenty push-ups," she commanded, her palm coming down in a teasing spank against his backside.
Travis froze for a moment, heat rushing to his face. His heart pounded like a drum, the closeness of her body overwhelming him.
'This is insane… I don't like this one bit,' he thought, though the rapid thumping in his chest betrayed the mixture of embarrassment and something he couldn't quite admit to himself.
Still, he obeyed. Travis planted his hands firmly against the floor and began his push-ups, her weight pressing him down with every dip. Oddly enough, the resistance only made him feel stronger. Each repetition came easier than she expected, his arms straining and flexing beneath her.
Mrs. Smith's smug expression faltered, surprise flickering in her eyes. "Hmmm… impressive. You're stronger than you look." Her fingers brushed across his shoulders, then down the curve of his spine. Each caress sent shivers rippling through his body.
Travis grit his teeth, focusing on his breathing. 'Man, I pray I don't get hard. This is the last thing I need right now…' He pushed through the final few reps, sweat dotting his forehead.
Finally, he straightened back up, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. Mrs. Smith slid off his back, heels clicking softly against the floor as she stepped back. He rose to his full height, towering over her with a steadier confidence than when he entered.
Her eyes swept across him slowly. The way his shirt clung to his frame, outlining the faint ridges of his muscles, stirred something inside her. A spark of arousal coursed through her veins as she bit the inside of her lip.
'Such an interesting man… so much raw potential. I'd love to add him to my collection,' she mused, fighting the urge to reach for him again.
---
[System Notification]
Affection +5% — Mrs. Smith's current affection: 0% → 5%
『5%』
---
"You may leave now," she said finally, her voice firm but carrying an undercurrent of something softer, something curious. "Just make sure to never arrive late again, you hear me?"
Travis nodded quickly, grabbing his bag and heading toward the door. He could feel her gaze burning into his back until the very moment he stepped out.
As silence fell in the room, Mrs. Smith leaned back against her desk, her breathing uneven. Her hand drifted down, slipping past the waistband of her panties as a warmth pooled between her thighs.
'Mmm… I need to relieve myself. That boy's going to be dangerous if I don't keep him in line,' she thought, a low moan escaping her lips as she surrendered to her desires.
....
Travis walked back home, sweat clinging to his shirt and dirt smudging his hands, but there was a certain satisfaction glowing on his face. The smell of fresh-cut grass still lingered in the air, sharp and earthy, clinging to him as he carried the mower back into the shed. He loved that smell—it reminded him of simpler days with his dad.
Inside, Jenny lounged lazily on the couch, sprawled out with a bowl of chips balanced on her lap and the TV flickering brightly across her face.
"Wow, to think you could be any more disgusting," she remarked, wrinkling her nose at his dirty appearance.
Travis stopped mid-step and turned, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Remind me again what you did today? Besides sitting around rotting in this house. You didn't even make $500 today."
Her smugness faltered, just for a second. "Who said that? I made a lot of money o—" She cut herself off abruptly, her eyes widening in realization that she almost exposed something.
Travis raised an eyebrow, catching the slip, but Jenny quickly covered her tracks.
"Fuck off! Go get a bath, loser!" she snapped, crossing her arms, cheeks tinted with frustration.
Travis only chuckled and shook his head. Their banter was always sharp-edged, but beneath it, he almost enjoyed how she kept things lively. Without saying another word, he headed downstairs.
The basement was cooler, the hum of the washing machine filling the air. Debbie stood near it, folding some freshly washed laundry, her sleeves rolled up, hair slightly frizzed from the heat of the room. When she spotted him, her face softened into a warm smile.
"You did a great job, Travis. The lawn looks as good as new—just like how your father used to keep it," she said, her tone tinged with pride and a little nostalgia.
"Yeah, I tried to copy him. Pretty sure I messed up a few spots, though," he admitted, scratching the back of his head.
She shook her head firmly. "No, what matters is that you did it. Honestly… you did a better job than your father. I'm sure he'd be proud." Her words carried weight, and Travis felt his chest tighten just a little at the mention.
Before the mood could turn heavy, Debbie clapped her hands lightly. "Now, get those dirty clothes off. I need to wash them before I'm finished here."
Without hesitation, Travis peeled off his sweaty shirt and tossed it into the basket, then his shorts followed, leaving him in just his underwear. The dim basement light caught on the lines of his body, the faint definition of muscle from weeks of training more obvious now.
Debbie froze for a moment, her hands lingering on the folded towel she held. Her eyes flicked over him, not with shame but with stunned realization.
'When did that happen? He's… hot,' she thought, her heart giving a tiny, guilty flutter.
---
[System Notification]
Affection +7% — Debbie's current affection: 17% → 24%
『24%』
---
"Um, sweetie," she said softly, trying to mask her surprise, "anything you want to tell me about… you know, that?" She gestured vaguely toward his chest and arms.
Travis chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, I started working out a few months ago. So, here I am now."
"Wow," she breathed, stepping a little closer, her eyes still tracing the lines of his body. The admiration in her gaze was unmistakable now—proud, but also something warmer, something unspoken.
She finally tore her eyes away, refocusing on the laundry as if to steady herself. "Well, I'm glad you decided to get in shape. It suits you. Now hand me those clothes before I get distracted."
Travis grinned, tossing his clothes into the pile. He caught the slight pink in her cheeks before she turned back to the washing machine.
TO BE CONTINUED