Michiyo needed to rise early—miss the train, and she was screwed.
She'd prep breakfast, scarf it down, bolt out the door.
But last night's binge left her wrecked—blackout drunk, plus weird happenings.
She overslept hard, jolted awake by Shin's gentle voice.
"Michiyo, get up or you'll be late."
His tone soft as ever. She yanked the covers over her head.
"Mmm."
Barely a mumble—she had zero clue how to face him.
"Breakfast's ready. Eat and go—I'll wake Hitori."
Shin sounded totally normal, no shift at all.
That made her stomach twist harder.
Pretending nothing happened? That your call, Shin?
He left; she dragged herself up, hangover pounding her skull.
Her clothes were changed—skin silky smooth. Someone had bathed her post-blackout.
Shin, obviously. He'd seen everything.
"Stockings were a mess—had to clean up or it'd show."
"His touch was so gentle. Slept through it."
Michiyo suited up for work, opting for black stockings today.
Downstairs, food aromas wafted. Heart heavy, face stormy, she sat.
Shin hadn't breathed a word about last night. Best to follow suit—act normal.
"Did something that overboard, and he brushes it off."
She muttered under her breath. What a good kid. I did the unforgivable.
"Call it a drunken dream."
Coffee sip; brows eased a tad.
Shin descended, towing sleepy-eyed Hitori by the hand.
He settled her at the table, shot Michiyo a glance, then hit the kitchen to scrub pots.
Awkward as hell. Michiyo's black-stockinged toes curled, practically digging a three-bedroom into the floor.
Kitchen clinks drew her eyes—Shin's tall frame, steady stance. Long legs perfectly shaped, ass perky and plush.
Cup down. She rose, possessed.
"Nothing happened?"
Brain fogged, but her feet carried her to him.
Over-30 ultra-ripe body, soft chest jiggling with each step.
She pressed against his back, smothering him with her fullness.
Shin stiffened—obvious.
"Thanks, Shin. I'll be home early tonight—handle dinner."
Hot breath tickled his ear on purpose.
He turned; her eyes caught the turmoil in his.
Confusion—why press up like this? Just pretend, right?
Fear—Hitori right there, back to the kitchen, clueless.
Michiyo, bold as brass, groping her daughter's crush in front of her.
"If you need it... I can help."
Her hand drifted to last night's "spot."
"You look like you do."
Am I insane?
But it twitched eagerly—no hard no from him.
"No pretending now, Shin. Once desire's uncorked, good luck resealing it."
His eyes screamed refusal, but that only fired her up more.
Black stockings over nudes? Her mindset had shifted.
Calf hooked his leg, vine-tight.
No turning back. Silent pact or not, she knew—every day henceforth, she'd itch until she pounced again.
Like those "mother-in-law & son-in-law" novels she devoured, fingering herself to Shin fantasies.
"Last time," every time. Sage mode barely lasted thirty minutes.
Hell, she'd once swiped Shin's undies for "use," then stashed them in Hitori's room.
He'd found them; Hitori apologized profusely. Michiyo knew—Hitori did it too.
Kid thought she'd just slipped up.
Post-that? Unstoppable. More thefts, undetected—her buried secret.
She'd always craved devouring Shin whole.
Since restraint would snap eventually, twisting things anyway—rip the band-aid now.
She couldn't hold out.
"No noise—Hitori'll hear. You don't want..."
Hand unbuckled his belt, snaking into pants.
Almost...
Eyes locked, she kissed him before he could speak.
"Mmph!"
Grip secured!
Blood boiled. Does this mean... more?
No pretending. We're ruined—lean in.
Fine—as long as Hitori never knew.
Her inner demon bared fangs. No daughter-guilt, nada.
Blame Shin's allure—makes sin inevitable.
"What?! That bill passed?!"
Hitori's shriek cut the air from the table—sleep-fog burned off, eyes wild.
Shin weakly shoved; the resistance, with his weak spot pinned, just thrilled Michiyo more.
Her gaze deepened.
"Off to work!"
Wifey peck on his forehead—hand still working, reluctant final strokes.
Shin trembled—rage? Pleasure?
Chaos reigned inside him.
Michiyo gone, Shin slumped beside Hitori.
"Polygamy—one husband, many wives. Passed."
Hitori jabbed the TV, mind blown. Historical backslide, absurd.
But... overwhelming votes sealed it!