Jungkook arrived that afternoon with a single duffel bag slung over his broad shoulder, his black tee clinging to his muscled chest from the light sweat of the city heat. Tae greeted him at the door, her tiny white crop top riding up just enough to show the underside of her massive tits, her micro-skirt swishing against her thick thighs. She smiled warmly, that kind, genuine curve of her full pink lips that made her seem so approachable despite looking like walking temptation. “Welcome home, Kook,” she said softly, her voice like velvet. “Let me show you around.”

Hyunwoo was long gone, off to whatever board meeting or mistress he pretended not to have, leaving the penthouse echoing with quiet luxury—marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering skyline, and art pieces that cost more than most people’s houses. Tae led Jungkook through the expansive living room, her heels clicking, ass swaying unintentionally with each step. He tried not to stare, but fuck, it was hard. She was built like a dream, all curves and softness, and that slutty outfit left little to the imagination.

“Here’s the kitchen,” she said, gesturing to the sleek, modern space with its granite counters and high-end appliances. “Help yourself to anything. I cook sometimes—simple stuffs.” She bent slightly to open a cabinet, showing him where the bottles were stored, and her skirt hiked up just a fraction, flashing the red thong nestled between her juicy ass cheeks. Jungkook swallowed hard, averting his eyes to the twins’ high chairs instead. Haneul and Suho were napping in their playpen nearby, their chubby faces peaceful, tiny fists curled.

She straightened up, oblivious, and continued the tour. “The gym’s down the hall—Hyunwoo uses it sometimes, but feel free.” Jungkook nodded, his doe eyes flicking to her face, noting how her porcelain skin flushed lightly in the warm light. She was so kind, explaining everything with patience, like she genuinely wanted him to feel at home. Not like the cold, arrogant vibe from her husband.

Finally, they reached the upstairs wing. “This is the nursery,” Tae said, pushing open the door to a soft, pastel room filled with cribs, toys, and a rocking chair. The air smelled like baby powder and lavender. Haneul and Suho’s names were painted in gentle script on the walls, surrounded by stuffed animals and mobiles. “They’re right next door to your room.” She led him to the adjacent guest suite—spacious, with a king bed, en-suite bathroom, and a view that rivaled the master. “I hope it’s okay. It’s close so you can hear them at night if they fuss.”

Jungkook set his bag down, his massive frame filling the doorway. “It’s perfect, ma’am. Thank you.” Their eyes met for a beat too long—his warm, protective gaze locking with her soft, appreciative one. A spark of something unspoken passed between them, tension humming like electricity. Tae felt a warmth bloom in her chest, and lower, her fat pink pussy clenching involuntarily. He was so different from Hyunwoo—kind, attentive, and built like a god.

He settled in quickly, unpacking his few clothes and setting up a small photo of his family on the nightstand. By evening, he was already pitching in. Tae was in the nursery, changing Suho’s diaper while Haneul fussed in her arms. “Here, let me,” Jungkook said, appearing like a gentle giant. He scooped Haneul up effortlessly, bouncing him lightly. “Hey, buddy, what’s the fuss? You miss your brother already?” Haneul giggled, grabbing at Jungkook’s nose, and Tae watched, her heart melting. Together, they handled the bedtime routine—baths in the tiny tub, fresh onesies, and bottles. Jungkook’s big hands were surprisingly deft, wrapping the babies in towels without a hitch. Every so often, their arms brushed—his muscled forearm against her soft one—and Tae felt a shiver, her nipples hardening under the thin crop top.

That night, as she lay in her massive bed alone (Hyunwoo out late, as usual), Tae couldn’t stop thinking about him. The way he looked at her—not like a piece of meat, but like a person. And god, those muscles…

The next morning dawned bright, and Jungkook was up early, already in the kitchen making coffee when Tae came down. She was in another slutty outfit—a pink babydoll dress that barely skimmed her thighs, the neckline plunging so low her huge tits threatened to spill out with every breath. No bra, of course; her pale pink nipples poked against the sheer fabric. She yawned, stretching, and the hem rode up, showing the curve of her ass. “Morning, Kook,” she said kindly, pouring herself a cup. “Sleep well?”

“Like a rock,” he replied, his voice deep and rumbling. But his eyes dipped—unintentionally—to her outfit. Fuck, she was gorgeous. He forced himself to focus on the babies, who were in their bouncers, cooing at the ceiling. “These two were angels last night. Only woke once for a feed.”

Tae beamed, bending down to pick up a rattle that had fallen from Haneul’s grasp. As she did, her dress hiked up fully, putting her juicy ass on full display—the red thong disappearing between her cheeks, her fat pink pussy lips just visible from the angle. She wasn’t doing it on purpose; she was just being a mom, focused on her boys. But Jungkook froze, coffee mug halfway to his lips, his cock twitching in his jeans. He cleared his throat, looking away, but the image burned into his brain—those thick curves, so soft and inviting.

Throughout the day, the tension built in stolen glances. Jungkook was incredible with the babies—cradling both at once during playtime, making silly faces that had Haneul and Suho erupting in bubbly laughter. “Look at this, guys! I’m a monkey!” he’d say, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue, his muscles flexing as he held them high. The twins squealed, kicking their chubby legs, and Tae couldn’t help but laugh too, her full pink lips parting in genuine joy. “You’re so funny, Kook,” she’d say, her voice breathy, eyes sparkling. He’d grin back, that handsome face lighting up, and their gazes would linger—his on her porcelain skin, hers on his broad chest.

He told them stories during tummy time, sprawled on the floor with the babies. “Once upon a time, there were two brave princes named Haneul and Suho,” he’d narrate in a goofy voice, making Tae giggle as she sat nearby, her legs tucked under her, dress riding up her thighs. “They fought dragons with their mighty… rattles!” The babies babbled happily, and Tae felt a warmth she hadn’t known in years. Hyunwoo never did this; he barely looked at them. But Kook? He was a natural, patient and fun, turning every moment into joy.

As the days blurred into a comfortable routine, the looks intensified. Tae would catch Jungkook watching her when she walked, his eyes tracing the sway of her hips. He’d catch her staring at his arms when he lifted the twins, wondering what those hands would feel like on her. Tension simmered, unspoken but thick, making the air in the penthouse feel charged.

Then, one afternoon, it boiled over. Tae was in the nursery, settled in the rocking chair for the twins’ midday feed. She’d pulled down the straps of her babydoll dress, freeing her massive, milk-heavy tits. They were fat and round, veins faintly visible under the porcelain skin, her pale pink nipples erect and leaking tiny beads of milk. Haneul latched on one side, Suho on the other, their chubby cheeks working as they suckled greedily. Tae sighed contentedly, her head back, eyes closed— this was her favorite time, feeling connected to her boys.

The door creaked open unexpectedly. “Tae, ma’am? I thought I heard—” Jungkook froze in the doorway, his words dying as he took in the scene. Her fat tits on full display, swollen and perfect, milk dribbling from the nipples where the babies nursed. Both flushed instantly—Tae’s white skin turning a deep pink, her pink lips parting in a gasp. “K-Kook!” she squeaked, but before she could cover up, the babies sensed the intrusion. Haneul and Suho unlatched at the same time, turning their heads toward the big man with curious gurgles. Milk sprayed lightly, and suddenly, her full boobs were exposed completely—nipples hard and glistening, the heavy globes jiggling as she shifted.

Jungkook was stunned, his doe eyes wide, face burning red. God, they were perfect—bigger than he’d imagined, so soft-looking, begging to be touched. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, his cock hardening instantly in his pants. “I-I’m so sorry,” he stammered, but he didn’t move, the view searing into his memory. He’d never forget it—those fat tits, the way her nipples peaked, the innocent flush on her beautiful face.

Tae gasped again, yanking the dress up to hide herself, but her hands fumbled, brushing her sensitive nipples and making her whimper softly. “It’s… it’s okay,” she whispered, mortified but oddly thrilled by the heat in his eyes. The babies fussed, reaching for her again.

“Here, let me take them,” Jungkook said, stepping forward on autopilot, his voice husky. He leaned down, his massive frame towering over her in the chair. As he scooped up Haneul and Suho—one in each arm—his fingers grazed the side of her boob, the warm, soft flesh sending a jolt through both of them. Tae bit her lip, her fat pink pussy throbbing under her thong, wet now from the tension. Jungkook’s touch lingered a second too long, his skin rough against her smoothness, and their eyes locked—raw desire crackling between them.

“I’ll… finish their feed with bottles,” he muttered, backing away, babies cooing obliviously. But as he left, the air hummed with unspoken want. Tae sat there, breathing heavy, her body on fire. And Jungkook, in the kitchen warming milk, adjusted his jeans, cursing under his breath. That view? It was going to haunt his dreams.