Afternoon sunlight streamed into the living room. Minho was giggling on the rug, building towers with his blocks while Jungkook sat cross-legged beside him, steady hands helping the boy balance each colorful piece.

“Good job, Minho,” Jungkook said warmly, his voice steady and calm. “You’re so clever. Just like your dad.”

Tae leaned against the doorway, heart twisting. For the first time all day, his eyes looked clear. His smile was gentle. He wasn’t confusing her with her mother. He wasn’t touching her, whispering filth into her ear. He was simply… her father.

The guilt hit her like a wave.

He’s my dad. He’s Minho’s grandpa. And I let him… I let him fuck me.

Her pussy throbbed at the memory, betraying her again. Heat spread between her thighs as she watched him laugh softly at Minho’s clumsy tower toppling over.

She hugged herself and slipped away quietly, unable to bear the mix of shame and arousal boiling inside her.

In her bedroom, she shut the door and pressed her back against it, panting softly. Her hand slid down over her shorts, brushing against the damp patch already forming.

Before she could touch herself, her phone buzzed.

Siwon calling.

She swallowed hard and answered, forcing her voice steady. “Hey, baby…”

“Hey,” Siwon’s voice was warm, tired. “God, I miss you. How’s everything at home?”

Tae glanced toward the door, lowering her voice. “It’s fine. Minho’s playing. Dad’s… he’s good today.”

“That’s a relief,” Siwon sighed. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Tae. I hate being away.”

Her lip trembled. “I miss you too.” Her thighs pressed together, aching.

There was a pause, then his voice dropped, husky. “What are you wearing right now?”

Her breath caught. Her mind flashed not to Siwon’s face, but Jungkook’s—his hungry eyes, his rough hands, his cock stretching her until she screamed.

“Uh… just a tank top and shorts,” she whispered, sliding onto the bed.

“Fuck,” Siwon groaned. “I wish I could rip them off right now. Touch that perfect body.”

Her hand slipped under the waistband of her shorts, brushing her soaked pussy. “Siwon…” she breathed, but in her head she heard Jungkook growl, ‘Spread those legs wider, slut.’

“You touching yourself?” her husband asked, voice low, needy.

“Yes,” she whimpered, sliding a finger inside herself. Her body jolted. “I’m so wet…”

“For me?”

Her eyes squeezed shut, a moan escaping. “Y-yes… for you.” But her mind betrayed her, picturing her father’s face between her thighs, licking her until she squirted.

“Good girl,” Siwon panted. “Rub that little clit for me. Imagine it’s my cock filling you up.”

Her fingers worked faster, juices slicking her palm. “Mmh—fuck—so hard, baby,” she cried, but in her head it was Jungkook’s cock splitting her open against the shower wall, his voice snarling ‘Take it, slut, it’s mine.’

“What do you want me to do to you?” Siwon asked, voice ragged.

“Fuck me,” she gasped, shoving two fingers inside. “Hard. Fill me up. Make me cum all over your cock.”

She was shaking now, tears pricking her eyes from the mix of guilt and raw need. Her pussy clenched desperately around her fingers, and she screamed into the pillow as her orgasm tore through her, soaking her hand.

“Fuck, Tae!” Siwon groaned on the other end of the line. She could hear him stroking himself furiously, the sound of his breath sharp, desperate. “I’m cumming—fuck—I’m cumming for you—”

She lay there trembling, her pussy still dripping, as his groans filled the phone.

When the call ended, silence returned.

Her fingers were sticky with her own release, her body limp and spent. But her heart ached. Because she hadn’t been thinking of Siwon at all.

She had moaned for Jungkook.

And she knew it was only a matter of time before she gave into him again.