Jack obeyed, his mind reeling as he sat, the cool stool grounding him against the heat of his arousal.
She poured body wash into her hands, lathering it into a frothy foam, and knelt behind him.
Her hands glided over his shoulders, firm yet gentle, but it was the press of her body that undid him. Her enormous breasts brushed against his back, their soft weight sliding against his skin with each movement, her light pink nipples grazing him faintly.
The sensation sent a jolt straight to his core, his erection twitching painfully.
"Now turn around," she said, her voice calm, oblivious to the torment she was inflicting.
Jack turned, and the sight nearly broke him.
She knelt before him, her legs slightly spread, revealing the delicate pink of her pussy framed by that chestnut patch.
Her breasts hung tantalizingly close, swaying as she reached for more soap, her light pink nipples catching the light.
The water glistened on her skin, highlighting every curve, every dip, every forbidden inch.
She scrubbed his arms and legs with focused efficiency, her hands strong and sure.
But Jack's eyes were locked on her body, his mind screaming to act on the goddess's promise—no rules, no limits.
Yet her innocence, her complete lack of awareness, held him in a strange thrall.
She grabbed the handheld showerhead, spraying warm water over him to rinse off the soap. As he stood to leave, her voice stopped him.
"Where do you think you're going? Who's going to scrub my back?"
He turned, his breath catching.
She stood there, water cascading over her, one hand on her hip, her expression expectant.
She's serious.
Jack poured body wash into his hands, his fingers trembling as he approached her.
He started with her back, his hands gliding over her smooth skin, tracing the curve of her spine.
She sighed softly, relaxing under his touch.
Emboldened, he moved to her front, his hands brushing the sides of her breasts.
He hesitated, then cupped them fully, their weight spilling over his palms, soft and pliant, her light pink nipples hardening against his thumbs as he massaged the soap into her skin.
"Come on, Jack," she chided, though her voice was softer now. "We don't have time. Breakfast will burn to crisp."
He nodded, his hands moving lower, over her hips, then to her thighs.
He parted them gently, his fingers lingering as he scrubbed, the soap making her skin slick.
Her thighs were thick yet toned, begging to be explored.
He spread her ass cheeks, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin of her crack, careful yet deliberate.
He moved lower, inches from her pussy, his heart pounding.
"You don't need to go there," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "That part's… dirty."
"No problem, Mom," he replied, his voice steady despite the fire in his veins. "It should be clean."
His fingers ventured deeper, brushing the outer folds of her pussy, the chestnut hair slick with soap.
He rubbed gently, as if scrubbing, but his touch lingered on her clit, circling it with slow, deliberate pressure.
A flush crept up her neck, her breath hitching. She grabbed his wrist, her eyes meeting his, wide with confusion. "What was that?"
Jack feigned innocence, his heart racing. "What was what?"
She hesitated, her grip loosening. "Nothing. Keep going."
He resumed, his fingers working her clit with subtle precision, edging her closer to something she didn't understand.
Her breathing grew shallow, her cheeks flushed, her body responding despite her ignorance.
He could feel her trembling, the heat of her arousal under his touch.
But then she straightened, her voice firm.
"That's enough, Jack." She took the showerhead, rinsing herself quickly.
"Go get dressed. Hurry, or you'll miss breakfast."
She stepped out, wrapping a towel around herself, and left without another word.
Jack stood there, the water still running, his body thrumming with unspent desire.
This world was a minefield of temptation, and he was only beginning to navigate it.