The next day came sooner than Eren expected. Dawn's light slipped through the window frame, spilling across the futon. The first ray struck his eyelids, and his body reacted on its own—groaning, shifting, the natural habit of waking when sunlight touched the eyes.
He stirred, lids parting sluggishly against the sharp brightness.
Ugh… is it noon already? The thought dragged across his mind, thick with fatigue. His brow furrowed as he let out another groan. Time for the office again?
The weight of routine pressed down on him more than the futon did. Years of dragging himself out of bed at the same hour had carved reflexes into his bones. Even here, in a place far from that world, the habit still clung.
His hand lifted, sluggish and heavy, falling against the side of the bedframe—searching for the familiar emptiness he always expected to find.
But what his fingers brushed against wasn't empty air beyond the bedframe—it was the hard surface of the floor.
Eren shifted, rolling sideways, his lids cracking open halfway.
Huh? This doesn't feel right… he grunted, forcing his eyes open wider.
And then it hit him.
The sight before him wasn't his cramped apartment room. A wooden floor stretched beneath him, rough and uneven, with bare walls of the same texture enclosing the space. Clothes lay neatly folded to one side, and a lone mirror stood propped in front of him. Nothing else. No desk. No fan. No buzzing alarm clock.
His breath caught, a chill racing up his spine.
Wait. Wait… this isn't right. Wasn't I in the off—
The thought barely formed before a sharper realization came crashing down.
He stared down at his hands—slowly uncurling them, clenching into fists, and letting them fall open again. As his vision steadied, so did the memories—flooding back in hazy flashes. The night before. This new body.
And most of all—the woman.
His step-aunt. Naked beneath him. Her warmth. Her moans. Her scent still lingered faintly on his skin.
Eren gulped.So… it was real?
The thought hit like a hammer. A new world. A woman he could call aunt—yet had taken him without hesitation. A house with no one else inside—just the two of them.
Shock still painted his expression, but beneath it, something else brewed. Relief.
No more morning alarms. No more office cubicles, no more cold lunches eaten under white lights, no more late-night beers numbing his burnout.
And above all—no more overwork.
He let out a slow breath, clutching his hands tight once more."So this is the new world…" he whispered. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. "Alright then. I'll make the best of it."
As his thoughts trailed off into the haze of disbelief and wonder, a small crashing sound echoed from behind him—
Splash—
Eren snapped his head back.
The bathroom door was ajar, steam curling lazily out into the room. Beyond it, his step-aunt—Mira—sat on a low wooden stool. Naked, her skin glistened under the dim morning light, water dripping from her shoulders as she lifted a ladle and poured another splash down her chest.
It looked like the pre-bath rinse—washing off before soaking in the tub.
Eren's lips curled slightly. The memories of this body—slipped into focus like a puzzle locking into place.
His step-aunt Mira… who helped him bathe.
Or rather, on even days, they bathed together. Washing each other's bodies, side by side, before stepping into the hot bath—sharing it in complete, uninhibited intimacy.
He blinked slowly, the smirk growing deeper on his lips.Yeah… this world's already better.
His cock twitched beneath him, morning wood pressing stiff against his thigh. He pushed it back down with his palm, lips curling.Don't worry… we'll get something soon.
Rising from the futon, he padded toward the bathroom.
Mira sat rinsing herself with the ladle, water gliding down her shoulders. Eren leaned against the doorframe, watching for a breath before speaking.
"Aunt Mira," his voice broke the quiet, low and casual, "there's still some soap on the side of your back."
Mira jolted slightly at the sudden sound, then turned her head. Relief softened her features when she saw him."Oh, it's just you, Eren." She let out a small sigh. "Yes… I know. I didn't want to trouble you over it."
She lifted the ladle again, as if to continue rinsing herself, but Eren's words stopped her hand.
"It won't be a problem," he said, stepping closer. "Mind if I join you? I can help rub your back properly."
Mira hesitated, then sighed again—though this time it was softer. "Oh… that would be such a help, Eren. My back's been itching for a while now."
Eren came closer as he dragged another stool from the corner, settling it just behind Mira.
"Mind if I use that cloth?" he asked, nodding toward the one she'd been scrubbing herself with.
Mira chuckled lightly, glancing back. "Why ask? Take it."
Even so, she passed it into his hand.
Eren sat down, his knees brushing close, the heat of his body pressing near. His cock, still stiff from the morning, nudged dangerously close to Mira's back. He clenched his jaw, reigning himself in—not yet…
He picked up the soap bar, pressing it into the damp cloth until the fabric foamed richly with suds. Then, carefully, he raised it to Mira's back.
The soapy cloth touched her skin, and Mira let out a faint sigh. But almost immediately, she shook her head.
"Not there, Eren," she murmured, reaching back. Her fingers curled gently around his elbow, guiding his hand downward, along the curve of her waist.
"Here," she exhaled, a long breath escaping her lips. "Yes… exactly there."
Eren pressed the cloth against her side, fingers tightening as his hand closed around her waist.
"Yes… exactly that way, Eren," Mira sighed, her voice faint but full of relief.
Eren smirked, upping his pace. Slowly, deliberately, he rubbed along her waist, his fingers working in tighter strokes. Then, with his other hand, his bare palm slide across the opposite curve of her waist.
"Friction will work better," he murmured, pressing his hand against her tender skin.
Mira's body gave the faintest tremor under his touch—but no words of protest came. Only a long breath.
"Yes, Eren… that feels so much better." A pause, then softer still, "Why don't you try the same with your other hand?"
Eren obeyed, pulling the cloth away completely. Both hands now traced her waist in unison, rubbing slowly, deliberately, his fingertips kneading the soft skin.
Mira's breath hitched, but she leaned into his touch instead of pulling away."That's right, Eren… mm. Can you pinch a little at the side? It's been itching there for days."
Eren obeyed, pinching gently at the back of her waist.
A small sound slipped from Mira's lips—half sigh, half moan."That's right…" she breathed, her voice faintly broken.
By now, the closeness, the heat of her skin under his palms, the softness of her waist—it was too much. Eren couldn't hold back. He leaned in, hips pressing forward until his cock nudged firmly against the small of Mira's back.
Her breath caught—just for a second—before she exhaled again, steady, almost deliberate.
Mira understood. A faint, knowing smirk curved her lips as she tilted her head forward."Eren…" she murmured, her tone calm. "Could you… rub just a little lower? At the bottom of my back."
Eren swallowed, his lips curling into a grin."Of course."
Both of Eren's hands slid upward along her waist as he shifted closer, pressing his seat tight behind hers. His chest flattened firmly against Mira's back. At the same time, he pushed his hips forward, his cock grinding against the soft curve above her hips.
"Would this do?" he murmured, his breath brushing her ear as he rubbed his cock against the supple flesh of her bulged up hips.
Mira's breath spilled out in a faint, shaky exhale. Her body trembled under his weight, but no protest came—only a hushed reply."Yes… just a little more. Faster, if you can, right there…" Her voice wavered, weak. "It's been itching… for a long while now."
Eren smirked, his hands gliding higher, sliding across her torso until his palms cupped her breasts. Fingers teased over her nipples, tugging them gently."I'm sure this has been itching for a while too," he whispered.
Mira let out a muffled moan, her lips pressing together to contain it. Still, she managed to breathe out between shivers, "The bottom, Eren… the bottom's been itching longer… rub there."
Eren pressed onto her as she braced herself on all fours, palms flat against the floor, body arched on all fours. He leaned over her, chest pressing firm against her back, one hand clamping around her nipple, tugging hard.
"I'm sure… this is the spot you meant," he murmured.
His other hand slid lower. Fingers pressed hard, prying at her tight rear hole—two digits forcing their way in. Mira's cry tore free, a ragged moan that echoed off the floor beneath her.
Eren pressed in closer, widening her hole. "Don't worry," he growled, his shaft brushing along her thigh. "That itch… it won't return for a long while."
Mira started to reply—"I doubt tha—" but her words were cut short.
Eren gripped himself, thrust forward, and forced the tip past the tight ring of her backhole.
"Ahh—!" Mira's cry tore through the room, sharp and unrestrained, echoing beyond the walls of the tavern itself.