The cane tapped against the wooden porch steps—slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. Jeon Jungkook adjusted his suspenders, squinting through the afternoon haze at the moving truck parked next door. The neighbors had been gone for years, the house sagging into itself like an old man’s spine. Now, it was alive again.

A girl—no, a woman—stepped out of the passenger side, stretching her arms above her head. The hem of her skirt rode up, just enough. Jungkook’s grip tightened on his cane. White thighs, smooth as the underside of a mushroom. Pink lips, parted slightly as she yawned. And that top—thin, clinging, no bra to hide the way her nipples peaked against the fabric.

"Tae, help your father with the boxes," a woman’s voice called from inside the truck. Mina, Jungkook guessed. The mother. Tae giggled, tossing her hair over one shoulder before sauntering to the back of the vehicle. Her hips swayed, each step deliberate. When she bent over, the skirt clung to the curve of her ass like it was painted on.

Jungkook cleared his throat, shuffling forward. "New neighbors," he said, voice rough from disuse. The father—Sehun—turned, wiping sweat from his brow. "Ah, yes! You must be..." Tae glanced over, blinking those big eyes. She smiled, slow and sweet, before adjusting her top strap. The neckline slipped lower. Jungkook’s pulse throbbed in his wrists.

"Jungkook," he supplied, forcing his gaze away. "Welcome."

Sehun grinned, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Thanks! We'll try not to be too noisy." Tae giggled again, leaning against the truck with one leg slightly bent, the skirt hiking up just enough to tease the shadow between her thighs. "Oh, I don’t mind noise," Jungkook murmured, eyes darting back to her.

Tae tilted her head, biting her lower lip. "Really? That’s so sweet of you, grandpa. By the way I’m Tae, 22 years old." The way she said it—soft, lilting—made his skin prickle. She swayed closer, the scent of vanilla and something muskier clinging to her. "Maybe you can show me around later? I’ve never lived somewhere so... quiet."

Mina emerged from the truck, dusting off her hands. "Tae, don’t bother the man." But Jungkook waved a wrinkled hand. "No bother at all. I’d be happy to." His knuckles whitened around the cane. Tae’s smile widened, her fingers brushing his forearm—light, fleeting. "Great! I’ll come by after unpacking."

Back inside his house, Jungkook paced the creaky floors. The girl was trouble—the good kind. He could still smell her, taste the tease of her nearness. Through the window, he watched her carry a box inside, the fabric of her top straining with every movement. She glanced his way once, twice—then, as if by accident, let the box slip. The way she bent to pick it up, ass in the air, was nothing short of art.

His breath hitched. This wouldn’t be a quiet summer.

The sun dipped low by the time the knock came—soft, hesitant, like she wasn’t sure she should be there. Jungkook’s fingers fumbled with the latch before he caught himself, smoothing his shirt down. When he opened the door, the scent of warm sugar hit him first. Tae stood there, balancing a plate of cookies with one hand while the other tugged at the hem of her dress. If you could call it that. The fabric barely covered her ass, sheer enough to outline the shadow of her thighs where they met.

"Mom made these," she said, holding out the plate with a shy smile. The movement made the neckline of her dress slip, revealing the swell of one breast, nipple puckered against the thin material. "Thought you might like them. Since, you know, you’re all alone here." Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, lingering just a second too long.

Jungkook took the plate, careful not to brush her fingers. "That’s very kind." His voice sounded strangled. Tae giggled, swaying slightly so the dress fluttered around her hips. "Can I come in? It’s kinda chilly out here." She hugged herself, exaggerating a shiver that made her tits press together. The old man hesitated—for appearances—then stepped aside. "Of course."

Inside, she perched on the edge of his couch, legs crossed tight. Jungkook set the cookies on the table, pulse roaring in his ears. "You didn’t have to—"

"Oh, but I wanted to," she interrupted, stretching her arms above her head with a sigh. The dress rode higher, the heat between her legs just a whisper away from being exposed. She caught him staring and bit her lip. "You’re kinda cute for an old guy, you know that?"

Jungkook’s cane creaked under his grip. The air thickened with the scent of her—warm sugar and something saltier underneath. Tae uncrossed her legs slowly, letting one knee fall open as she leaned forward to grab a cookie. "Try one," she urged, holding it out. Her fingers brushed his when he took it, lingering just long enough to feel the calluses on his palms.

The old man’s throat worked as he chewed. Too sweet. Like her. Tae giggled, watching him swallow. "You’re blushing, grandpa." She said it like a challenge, toes curling into the rug as she shifted closer. The hem of her dress rucked up another inch, revealing the soft pink crease where thigh met hip. Jungkook’s tongue felt too big for his mouth.

"You shouldn’t—" he started, but she cut him off with a gasp, pretending to lose balance. Her hand landed on his thigh, fingers pressing into the thin fabric of his trousers. "Oops," she breathed, eyelashes fluttering. Her palm was warm, so warm, and he could feel the edge of her pinky dipping dangerously inward.

Outside, the wind rattled the porch swing—or maybe it was his pulse. Tae didn’t pull away. Instead, she tilted her head, pink lips parting. "You’re... really strong for an old man," she murmured, thumb rubbing circles against his leg. The touch burned through the fabric. Jungkook’s cane clattered to the floor.

Tae’s eyes widened, feigning innocence. "Oh no! Let me get that—" She bent over right in front of him, ass high in the air, the tiny dress doing nothing to hide the fact she wasn’t wearing panties. The pink swell of her pussy glistened under the lamplight, sticky-sweet. She peeked over her shoulder, biting her lip. "Grandpa... you’re staring."

Jungkook’s hands trembled where they gripped the armrests. He could see every detail—the way her thighs trembled slightly, the sheen of sweat at the small of her back. Tae straightened up with exaggerated slowness, cane in hand, pressing it against his chest as she straddled his lap. "Here," she whispered, rolling her hips just once. "You dropped this."

The friction was unbearable—soft heat grinding against the hardening bulge in his trousers. Jungkook hissed, fingers digging into her waist, but Tae just giggled, arching her back so her tits brushed his face. "Careful, grandpa," she teased, breath hot against his ear. "Wouldn’t want you to have a heart attack." Another slow roll of her hips, her dress sliding up to reveal the full curve of her ass. She ground down harder this time, lips parting in a silent moan.

Then, just as suddenly, she slid off him, smoothing her dress down with a smirk. "Oh my, look at the time!" Tae checked her bare wrist, blinking innocently. "Mom’ll kill me if I’m out too late." She stepped back, letting her fingers trail across his thigh one last time. Jungkook’s cock throbbed under the thin fabric, straining against his zipper. Tae licked her lips, eyes dark with mischief. "Sweet dreams," she purred before turning on her heel.

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Jungkook gripping the arms of his chair, knuckles white. Through the window, he watched her saunter down the path, swaying her hips with every step. Halfway to her house, she glanced back over her shoulder, catching him staring. Tae winked, hiking her dress up just enough to flash him the pink swell of her pussy before disappearing inside.

The old man groaned, palming himself through his pants. The scent of her—vanilla and salt—still clung to the air. His cane lay forgotten on the floor where she’d dropped it. Outside, the porch swing creaked in the wind, mocking him. Jungkook exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. That little minx had him wound tighter than a pocket watch. And she knew it.

Down the hall, the bathroom faucet dripped. Tae’s laughter echoed in his skull—bright, taunting. Jungkook adjusted himself with a grimace. Sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight. Not with the memory of her hips grinding against him, the wet heat he’d glimpsed between her thighs. He reached for the cookies she’d brought, biting into one with a snarl. Too sweet. Just like her.