After I became mentally challenged, my godmother, Fenelle Porter, took care of me personally. She not only massaged me and helped me exercise, but she also never resisted my touch.

My godfather, Sam Porter, took advantage of my situation and was always intimate with Fenelle in front of me.

Little did they know that I had already recovered.

While Fenelle and Sam were video chatting, and she was using toys to pleasure herself during the video call, I put myself into her.

Sam was completely unaware all along.

Many years ago, I suffered a head injury in a car accident and ended up brain-damaged.

Only my godmother, Fenelle Porter, remained to care for me after my parents' long-ago divorce and relocation. As my mother's closest friend, she possessed a mature elegance, a striking figure, and a complexion that was both fair and smooth.

My feelings for Fenelle ran deep, leading me to frequently lose myself in late-night fantasies about her.

A recent accident changed everything. While Fenelle was out shopping, I fell from a cabinet and struck my head. Although the impact unexpectedly restored my mental capabilities, I chose to maintain the facade of my previous condition.

Fenelle played a crucial role in my supposed rehabilitation, guiding me through fitness exercises and neurological-stimulating massages. These sessions provided a level of physical closeness with her that I was unwilling to forfeit.

During our scheduled workout today, Fenelle donned a form-fitting pink yoga ensemble that accentuated her curves.

As she followed a workout on television, she performed several demanding poses, encouraging me to mimic her movements. One particular cat-like stretch, in which she pressed her chest to the floor and elevated her hips, was incredibly enticing.

The thin, form-fitting leggings she wore became translucent as she stretched, offering a glimpse of what lay beneath. Positioning myself directly behind her, I was faced with her derriere and the clear outline of her private areas visible through the fabric.

In a sudden rush of heat, I reached out instinctively, my heart racing. The instant I made contact, my thoughts vanished into a total blur. The sensation was incredibly warm and soft.

"Ah!" Fenelle cried out, reflexively squeezing her legs shut. Rather than releasing my hand, the motion only wedged my fingers further inside. My fingers curled instinctively, meeting her warm, damp center.

A sudden wave of moisture erupted as she gasped and shook, soaking both my hand and her clothing. In a state of panic, Fenelle whipped her head around, her expression caught between irritation and deep embarrassment.

Seeing her flushed cheeks and moist eyes, my heart nearly melted.

"Derrick, stop that. You shouldn't be touching me there," Fenelle admonished, her skin blooming with a deep crimson.

"Why is it wet, Fenelle? It feels so good. I want to try it again!" I started playing dumb, not only ignoring her but actually going even further.

Fenelle let out a soft moan and collapsed onto the floor.

"This is so much fun! I’m going to keep playing. Otherwise, I’ll tell Sam that you got wet in front of me!" I rolled my eyes and acted like a little brat.

"Fine, I give in. I’ll let you play, but you can’t tell Sam, okay?" Fenelle was scared, too. She knew I was a bit of a troublemaker and couldn’t hold my tongue.

If my godfather, Sam, heard about this, he’d definitely get the wrong idea.

"Hurry up, hurry up! Stick it up so I can play with it!"

"Okay, okay, you really are bossy. Just be gentle when you play." Fenelle coaxed me, her face flushed as she lay face down, sticking her pert bottom up toward me.

I moved closer to Fenelle, my hand continuing to roam over the damp fabric. It was my first time touching a woman’s intimate area, and for a moment I was curious, poking around here and there, savoring the soft, moist sensation in my hand.

Fenelle’s face flushed red, and she trembled with every touch, letting me manipulate her like a toy that squeaked at the slightest touch.

Gradually, she began to writhe restlessly, her damp area rubbing against my hand as if seeking relief from this trivial friction.

I was also growing impatient with merely touching her through her clothes. So I launched a surprise attack, pulling her pants down.

"Ah!" The sudden chill on her buttocks startled her. She shoved me away violently, pulled up her pants, and stood up, her face flushed crimson with shame.

"Derrick! Why did you take off my pants?" Fenelle glared at me with a mix of shame and anger, her eyes flashing fiercely.

Her anger sparked a twinge of fear in me. I realized I had crossed a line, so I just sat there with my head bowed, trying my best to look like I was genuinely sorry for what I'd done.

Fenelle stood up, clearly rattled. Sweat made her messy hair stick to her neck, and her face was a deep shade of red, showing both her embarrassment and agitation. Her thin yoga clothes were completely drenched, clinging to her and leaving little of her figure to the imagination.

I must have been staring too hard because she suddenly looked down at herself. In a panic, she shielded her chest, barked out some quick orders, and retreated into her bedroom.

Shortly after that, I heard soft moans coming from Fenelle’s bedroom. The sound was seductive, piquing my curiosity, so I crept closer.

Through the crack in the door, I could see Fenelle lying face-down on the bed, one hand caressing her bosoms, the other holding something as she thrust it into her back passage while arching her hips.

In an instant, the heat that had just subsided surged back through me. Afraid she might catch me, I could only watch through that narrow gap as she panted in ecstasy.

The sounds from inside came in fits and starts, like a lament, sounding both painful and pleasurable.

Being able to watch but not touch was excruciating. My body ached with pent-up desire. Finally, I simply couldn’t hold back any longer and called out, "Fenelle!"

The sounds inside stopped abruptly. A moment later, Fenelle emerged wearing loungewear, her expression calm and composed, though her pretty face was flushed.

"Derrick, I’m going to make you dinner." With that, she turned and headed for the kitchen.

Watching her graceful silhouette, her round, firm buttocks shifting beneath her skirt with every step, and the marks on her bare legs as traces of my caresses, I couldn’t help but swallow hard.

That evening, Sam came home for dinner. He mentioned he had to go on a business trip the next day and asked Fenelle to help me take a bath.

They both thought I was a simpleton, so they didn’t see anything wrong with it. Something occurred to Fenelle as she clenched her legs together in discomfort, turned her slightly flushed face toward me, and shot me a glance.

The next evening, Fenelle filled the tub with water and told me to hurry up and get in. I pretended to be clueless and cheerfully went into the bathroom.

Fenelle was wearing a silk spaghetti-strap nightgown that clung tightly to her body. The neckline was quite low, offering a clear view of the generosity beneath.

The thrill of practicing yoga with her yesterday flashed through my mind, and a surge of lust instantly awoken within me.

I brazenly stripped off my clothes and jumped into the tub. Immediately, Fenelle’s eyes went wide. Her gaze was fixed intently on my crotch; her red lips parted slightly, and her breathing grew noticeably ragged.

"You can’t look. Don’t look." I watched her reaction, pretending to be a shy little boy, and covered myself up.

She stared for a long moment before stammering, "Derrick, take your hand away. I'm going to bathe you."

"I won’t let you look!" I pretended to refuse and started acting like a petulant child.

"But I’m going to give you a bath…"

"Then you have to reward me. Otherwise, I won’t let you look!" I continued to throw a tantrum.

Fenelle’s face turned bright red, but her eyes still gazed greedily at the spot I was covering. "Derrick, can… can you promise not to tell Sam?" she stammered, biting her lip, looking as if she were about to cry.

"Hmm, alright. What do you want to do?" I reached out, my fingers brushing against her chest.

"I’ll wash you down there with my mouth today, okay?" Her breathing grew even more ragged, and her pretty face flushed a deep crimson before my very eyes.

It was clear that Fenelle was lonely most of the time; Sam must not be satisfying her. She wore a conflicted expression, as if she desperately wanted to taste my heat. Her eyes betrayed her inner struggle, but in the end, she made up her mind.

"I won’t!" I was still playing hard to get, but inside, I was overjoyed. I never expected her to be so desperate that she’d actually set her sights on me.

"Then how about I let you play with me? I'll wash you." Fenelle began coaxing me.

"Alright then!" I nodded. By this point, I was already so worked up that I couldn’t refuse anymore.

Fenelle dipped her fingers in some water and gently washed me there. Feeling her small hands, I almost shivered. It felt so good!

Slowly, Fenelle bent down, opened her mouth, and slowly lowered her head, moving closer to my…

I couldn’t help but shiver. I hadn’t expected Fenelle to be so skilled. She kept breathing in and out, making soft, slurping sounds, creating incredibly alluring music to my ears.

Just like last time, I couldn’t resist putting my fingers to work. This time, Fenelle wasn’t wearing yoga pants. In fact, she wasn’t wearing anything under her skirt, and before I’d even really started, she was already soaking wet.

Watching her eagerly thrusting back and forth, I couldn’t resist getting closer and probing deeper into that wet opening.

The air in the bathroom suddenly grew scorching hot, and Fenelle’s moans began to grow louder.

Just as I was about to explore further, the phone sitting on the shelf suddenly rang. Fenelle flinched in surprise, and I froze in my tracks.

As she reluctantly pulled away from me, she shot me a flushed glance and hurried to grab the phone.

It was a video call from Sam. Fenelle took a couple of deep breaths before swiping to answer.

"What’s up?" Fenelle asked, feigning calm.

"Honey, why is your face so red? You aren’t playing with yourself in the bathroom, are you? You can’t stand being without me for just one day?" Sam said with a chuckle.

"Get lost, you pervert! I’m bathing Derrick! He’s a big boy now. This is so embarrassing!" Fenelle’s expression flashed with panic, but she managed to compose herself in time.

I was a little worried, too. What if Sam got angry?

"Hmph, his IQ is like that of a three-year-old. What’s there to be shy about? Just think of it as bathing our son," Sam said, unconcerned.

I thought to myself, 'You might not think it’s a big deal, but you have no idea that Ma is treating me just like she would treat you!'

While they were on the phone, I suddenly got curious, and my fingers started moving more freely.

Fenelle squirmed a couple of times, afraid to make any big movements in case Sam noticed. Her legs, which were still crouched, started trembling uncontrollably. The sound of dripping water echoed from the floor. Embarrassed, Fenelle tried to hang up several times, but Sam wouldn’t let her and kept rattling on.

Fenelle could only bite her lip and endure it as best she could.

"Let’s hang up first. I still need to finish bathing him!" Before long, Fenelle couldn’t take it anymore and desperately wanted to end the call.

"Don’t rush. I can’t take it either. Why don’t we video call for a bit?" Sam suggested.

"Are you crazy? How can we do something like this right in front of our godson?" Fenelle’s cheeks flushed even redder. Although in their eyes I was mentally challenged, I was still an adult after all.

"It’s fine. He doesn’t know what we’re doing. Just grab a toy later to distract him and make sure he doesn’t go blabbing about it!" Sam didn’t seem to care at all, and even urged Fenelle to hurry to the bedroom and get a toy.

Fenelle glanced at me. Seeing that I still looked as clueless as ever, and taking in my muscular build, she was tempted too. She got up and went to the bedroom.

I was beyond excited. The fact that Sam was going to join in made it incredibly thrilling.

Before long, Fenelle came back in, holding a large toy. She held her phone and asked Sam how he wanted to proceed.

Sam told her to face me and place the large toy on the floor.

Her cheeks flushed bright red, and she shot me a fiery glance. Her eyes were brimming with desire. Perhaps she was imagining that I was the toy.

Fenelle’s pretty face radiated allure as she gazed at me with a seductive, dreamy expression. While video calling Sam, she slowly took hold of the thick shaft and began to slide it into herself.