The boundaries didn’t break—they melted.
One lazy afternoon the baby napped upstairs, crib monitor humming softly on the coffee table. Jennie came downstairs in her thin cotton nightgown, the front already damp from leaking breasts. Victor was on the couch, legs spread, reading something on his phone. He looked up when she entered the room. No words. Just his eyes darkening.
She crossed to him. Straddled his lap without asking. The gown rucked up to her waist as she settled, thighs bracketing his hips, the thick ridge of his c**k pressing against her soaked panties through his sweatpants. Victor set the phone aside. Hands slid up her sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of her heavy breasts. He tugged the neckline down; n*****s sprang free—dark, erect, already beaded with milk.
He latc
