Groggy and confused, he looked around the room.
"Ugh… my head hurts."
The man stood up and grabbed his glasses from the nightstand. He yawned and stretched.
He saw a woman beside him. He quietly sits up and tries to figure out who she is. She appeared to be around forty, yet for her age, she looked stunning, with flawless skin. Wearing a silky nightgown that highlighted her curves, she looked striking, yet her face was gentle and motherly. She shifted to the side, her movement exposing her full, bountiful chest.
He gulped dry air, feeling his member begin to stiffen. Unable to resist, he slowly reached out and touched her breast. The softness felt amazing. Realizing the woman had not woken up, he grew bolder. His grip tightened slightly, and the woman let out a soft moan. She doesn't react immediately… but her breathing changes.
He decided to explore her body more. His fingers slid down to her belly where softness adds to the erotic allure he was feeling, then she look to her face which was beautiful. Her lashes, brows, and contours were perfectly shaped with flawless grace. Then his gaze shifted to her lips, studying them intensely. He could not resist, and thus takes a peck at her lips. It is soft, and thus he do it again, as seconds pass by he got addicted to it. He adds pressure as he kisses her, while gently massaging her breast. He begins to bite and suck on her lips, unable to get over the soft, wet sensation he enjoys. His fingers slid below her tummy and stopped between her legs, where he could feel the soft flower beneath his fingertips. His fingers brushes to the sides of the folds, making her body jerk.
_What is this guy doing early in the morning._
She was sleeping soundly, yet someone kept touching her body. His gentle touches sent a soft, tickling sensation across her skin. It felt good—too good—and it had been a long time since she had felt anything so sensual. In that moment, she felt both vulnerable and stirred by the unfamiliar warmth. After such a long time, her husband finally looked at her as a woman again, and she decided to let him do as he wished with her.
_Minutes passed._
He grew hornier, wrapping his legs around hers and pressing his body against her, moving in gentle yet insistent, comforting rhythm. Feeling the heat of each other's company, they began to touch and kiss, growing more passionate as time passed.
As they grew more passionate, a sudden knock on the door interrupted their moment.
"Sir,.. Madam, are you awake?"
They suddenly came to their senses and stopped what they were doing. The man quickly stood up and hurriedly put on his pajamas. He glanced at the woman and asked,
"What time is it?"
"It's still early, darling. Get some more rest."
He looked around the room and noticed a large family photo on the wall. In it, he saw the woman standing beside another man, along with their two children—a boy and a girl.
"I'll wash up first."
"Sure. You go ahead… or do you want to go together?" she teased.
He blushed slightly at her remark.
"No need. We should calm down… and someone might come looking for us."
He walked inside the bathroom, and as he looked at the mirror he was shocked to see a middle aged man around forty.
"What the…?" he whispered. "Who the hell is that?"
He blinked hard, then splashed cold water onto his face. Slowly, he opened his eyes again.
"Not bad… I actually look good."
The man staring back at him looked carved by time and pressure. Faint lines marked the edges of his eyes, not from age alone, but from years of hard decisions. His jaw was strong, shadowed with rough stubble, and his neatly kept hair showed the slightest hints of gray. His gaze was steady—cold, calculating, and unyielding. There was no softness in him, only control… the kind of presence that made people fall silent without a word.
He quickly cleaned himself up and got ready to head downstairs. For now, he would go with the flow—watch, listen, and figure out what this place was all about.
The dining room is grand and elegant, the mahogany table so smooth that it reflects the light from the chandelier on the ceiling. Along with vintage chairs that are precisely arranged, each set reflects power. Paintings line the walls, each portraying fragments of history. To look upon them is to be drawn into another time, their silent stories carrying weight and meaning.
He took his seat beside his wife, accompanied by the two young ones he felt were his children. The table is filled and displayed with abundance. Platters of eggs, bacon, rice, and steaming morning coffee were laid out alongside various dishes of fruits and vegetables—one look at the feast was enough to make anyone feel full from the sheer abundance of food.
His stomach rumbled with hunger. A soft giggle escaped his wife.
"Eat," she said with a teasing smile. "You must be starving after earlier."
She let out a sigh. "Mom, it's too early for this… can we just eat in peace?" their daughter muttered.
He took a bite of eggs and rice, then sipped his coffee. A satisfied sigh escaped him as a faint smile of delight crossed his face.
Seeing him enjoy his breakfast, his son spoke up.
"Dad, sorry I can't make it to dinner later. I've got a lot of schoolwork to finish."
His mom interjected.
"Again? You're going to Gari's house? Tony, you go there every day. What are you really doing there?"
"Mom, it's just school works and projects, don't worry, we are not doing something bad."
"Okay, you can go," the father said nonchalantly.
His son smiled, clearly relieved.
His wife, however, was left utterly dumbfounded. For the first time, her husband didn't argue or question—it was as if he simply went along with everything.
_What the hell is happening today? _she thought.
"What's that look for?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at his wife.
Before she could answer, their daughter spoke up, studying him closely.
"Dad… you seem a little different today. It's like… I don't know… your aura feels off."
_…Is it that obvious?_
He held her gaze, steady and unreadable, as if testing whether she had truly seen through him.
But his daughter didn't back down. She continued, her eyes fixed on him.
"Dad… ever since you came in—when you sat down, even the way you looked at the food—it all felt different. You've become… easier to read..."
While his daughter continued speaking, he was already thinking of ways to steer the conversation elsewhere.