"I didn't mean to…"

All I had done was catch the scent of my classmate's mother's stockings, and that alone was enough for her to drag me into a room and punish me for it.

What terrified me even more was this. Somehow, unbelievably, my classmate was about to start calling me Dad.

My name is Joseph Chapman. I met one of my best friends, Lance Ellis, in college. When the holidays came around, he invited me over to his place.

Lance lived with his mom. It was just the two of them in a big house.

The moment I stepped inside, I noticed a pair of women's high heels sitting neatly on the shoe rack. Inside one of the heels was a pair of worn stockings. They looked… weirdly tempting.

While Lance was not paying attention, I quietly reached out, picked up the stockings, and brought them to my nose. I breathed in.

The salty, musky scent filled my mouth, and my body reacted instantly.

My heart jumped. I hurriedly put them back exactly where they were, afraid Lance might notice.

"Mom, I brought Joseph over!" Lance called out toward his mother's room.

A moment later, the door opened.

A stunning woman stepped out. She wore a sleek, form-fitting dress that hugged her slim waist perfectly. She moved with a kind of effortless charm that made it hard to look away.

I felt like my nose might start bleeding. She… was damn gorgeous.

She smiled warmly at me. "You must be Joseph. Have a seat."

She pointed to the couch, then turned to pour me a glass of water.

Meanwhile, I was already struggling to keep myself together. I hunched forward slightly, trying to hide it, and shuffled awkwardly toward the sofa.

Lance noticed and frowned. "Joseph, why are you walking like that? Are you feeling okay?"

He stepped closer, like he was about to help me.

I waved, almost frantically. "I'm fine, I'm fine."

I sat down, adjusting my clothes to cover myself as naturally as possible.

Just then, Lance's mom, Anna, walked over with the glass of water. She leaned down slightly as she handed it to me.

I took it with both hands. Before I could stop myself, my eyes drifted. From the angle of her collar, everything beneath was completely visible.

I froze.

My hand holding the glass went stiff midair.

Anna seemed to notice. Her gaze slowly shifted downward… to between my legs. The corner of her lips lifted into a faint, knowing smile.

Being looked at like that made my whole body feel hot and tense.

Then she said casually, "We have a guest, and I'm not even wearing stockings. That's not very proper. I'll go put some on."

She walked over to the shoe rack, heading straight for the pair of heels and the stockings beside them, and my whole body tensed.

Oh, no.

There was still… evidence on them. It probably had not even dried yet. If she found out, how was I supposed to face anyone ever again?

"It's really fine," I blurted quickly. "Lance and I are close. You don't have to be so formal."

Anna picked up the stockings anyway and smoothed them out. "That won't do," she said lightly. "It's your first time here. Stockings make it more proper."

I watched as she slipped her toes into the fabric, slowly pulling it up along her legs. It was strangely mesmerizing, and at the same time, my heart pounded with pure panic.

'Please don't notice,' I thought. 'Please don't notice.'

However, after putting them on, Anna lifted her foot slightly and glanced down. Then she suddenly exclaimed, "Oh my God… why are my stockings damp inside?"

She raised her head and looked straight at me. Her eyes carried a sharp, searching edge then. In that instant, it felt like all the blood in my body froze.

I sat there, completely stiff on the couch.

Lance looked back and forth between us, confused. He had no idea what was going on.

Anna's voice turned icy. "Joseph," she said, "come to my room for a moment."

Did Anna figure it out that fast? My stomach twisted as I stepped into her room.

A second later, she followed me in and casually shut the door behind her.

I stayed hunched over at the foot of the bed, not daring to stand up straight, afraid any reaction from my body would give me away.

Anna sat on the bed in front of me and crossed her legs. One foot rested right in my line of sight.

Slowly, she lifted it and extended it toward me. The stocking on her foot still looked slightly damp.

"Tell me," she said, her voice calm but sharp, "were you the one who messed with my stockings?"

There was no way I could admit it, so I quickly shook my head. "No. No, it wasn't me."

My hands stayed shoved in my pockets, stiff and awkward.

"Stand up straight. Hands out. And stop hunching over," she said, her tone turning firm.

I pulled my hands out and slowly straightened up. The movement made everything worse. I could feel myself giving it away, and my face instantly burned.

Anna's eyes widened slightly when she saw me.

"And you're still saying it wasn't you?" she said. "Look at you."

"I… I didn't mean to," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper, like a kid who had just been caught doing something wrong.

Anna suddenly pressed her foot down on mine, grinding it hard.

"If you do something wrong, you should be punished. Don't you think so?" Her voice was soft, almost teasing, like she was drawing me in on purpose.

The pressure made me tense, and something inside me flared up instantly. It was unbearable, standing there with a woman like her right in front of me, yet not daring to touch her.

I lowered my head and nodded quickly. "Y-yeah… whatever you think is fair."

That only made her laugh. "I like obedient boys," she said lightly.

She lifted her foot again, holding it just in front of me, as if testing how far I would go.

"Let's see how much you really like it."

My breath caught. I reached out instinctively, hands hovering for a second before finally touching, careful, hesitant. I leaned in without thinking, drawn closer by something I could not control.

Just as I was about to get any closer, she pulled back sharply and flicked her foot forward, tapping my face.

"Oh, so you really would? Not so fast."

A wave of frustration hit me. The feeling she had stirred up refused to settle, leaving me restless and on edge.

She watched me with clear amusement, as if enjoying every second of it. "Take your shirt off. Let me see what you're working with."

The bluntness caught me off guard, but I did not hesitate this time. I pulled my shirt off, exposing my build.

Her eyes lingered, openly impressed. "Not bad," she said, a hint of surprise in her voice.

Then, almost playfully, she tapped my shoulder with her heel. "That's what you get for not keeping yourself in check."

The touch was not painful at all. If anything, it only made everything more intense.

I let out a small groan, half real, half exaggerated.

Her expression softened slightly. "Did that hurt? Come here."

Her hand brushed over me, light and warm, sending a strange, unfamiliar sensation through my body. It was overwhelming in a way I could not quite describe, like something restless waking up under my skin.

No woman had ever touched me like that before. I could not stop reacting to it.

Just then, Lance's voice came from outside the door.

"Mom? What are you guys doing in there?"

Anna's expression flickered with panic. "Nothing! I'll be right out. I'm making dinner."

I quickly got dressed and stepped out of the room.

Lance looked completely clueless–confused, even. There was no way he could guess what had just happened. The thought left me with a quiet, guilty thrill.

Anna headed straight for the kitchen. Before long, she had a full meal prepared and called us over to the table.

Dinner should have been normal, but it was not. As we ate, Anna kept glancing at me, her fingers tapping lightly against the tableware. The faint, rhythmic sound made something inside me tighten.

I deliberately dropped my utensil and bent down to pick it up. From beneath the table, I caught a glimpse of her foot, the soft sheen of her stockings catching the light. The memory of earlier rushed back all at once, sharp and impossible to ignore.

I lingered there a second too long.

Above me, Anna stiffened almost instantly, her legs shifting as if trying to pull away. The tension was obvious then, even if Lance did not notice.

"Mom? Are you okay?" Lance asked, his voice full of innocent concern.

Anna shook her head quickly. "I'm fine. Just… a little tired."

She was not fine, obviously. Anyone paying attention could see it.

A moment later, she pushed her chair back and stood up abruptly.

"I'm not feeling well. I'm going to lie down," she said, her voice tight. "Lance, can you help clean up later?"

Without waiting for an answer, she hurried off toward her room. I straightened and returned to my seat.

Lance looked puzzled, watching her leave.

I gave a small shrug. "I'm done eating. I'll go check on her."

He nodded and started clearing the table.

While he was busy washing dishes, I made my way down the hallway and stopped outside Anna's door before quietly stepping inside.

She was lying on the bed, her face flushed, her breathing uneven. When she saw me, her expression shifted, a mix of embarrassment and frustration. "Joseph… you shouldn't have done that."

However, there was something else there too, something she could not quite hide. I stepped closer, the air between us thick with everything left unsaid.

"You don't look okay," I said softly. "Let me help."

She hesitated, clearly conflicted. I reached out carefully, testing the boundary rather than crossing it outright.

"No… You shouldn't…" she said, though her voice lacked conviction.

Not another second later, the distance between us disappeared.

"You're already this worked up," I murmured. "Why keep pretending otherwise?"