The Johnson were a seemingly happy family, a stepmother[Real Mother died of a cancer when Jack was 1 and half years old] and a father with their son living the good life in the suburbs, every so often hosting barbecue parties and inviting over the other neighbors.
[Note: we will call Natalie-stepmother as a Mother]Â
Perhaps they always seemed happy because the young man, who was attending a prestigious college, was rarely at home, primarily on holidays, but even then, his parents were even more so excited by his presence in the house.
The only thing that could've posed a problem would've been Jack's Stepmother, Natalie, who, lately, watched her boy growing up into a fine, handsome man, harvested certain feelings that she took shame in.
Her infatuation for her son soon became obsessive and hard to control now that summer has arrived and Jack came back home for a prolonged break.
One day, when her husband was out for work and she was minding her usual business in the kitchen, her eyes climbed up from the countertop to the window and stared at her son working in the front garden.
Elvis Presley's soft, warm tones and voice reverberated through the living room and kitchen as the record player kept spinning. Natalie allowed herself to
indulge in the romantic, seducing melody as she gazed at her boy laboring in the merciful sun.
Staring at his sweaty, glistening skin gleaming in the sun, at his muscles tensing at every little movement, she could never understand where he got that physique. She didn't remember her husband ever being like that. Natalie was very much aware that her feelings for her son were wrong, yet she could not stop fantasizing about his shirtless broad chest, and rough, big hands grasping at her curves.
With her heart faltering at every single obscene thought of hers and her pulse rising whenever she'd watch him down on his knees in the garden, dirt-smudged over his cheeks, and sweat crawling down in between his shoulder blades, Natalie threw caution to the windand let herself live the moment.
Trying to get herself closer to him all the time, she slowly inserted herself into his routine by offering to bring him glasses of cold water or a towel, or even beer sometimes, for which Jack was always quite grateful considering he was not yet of age to start drinking.
And whenever she'd bring them to him, she'd let her palms gently brush against his big hands or sweaty forearms as she handed him whatever he needed. She would sometimes apologize for her presumed accidental touches, but Jack always assured her there was nothing to feel weird about, which only encouraged her to get cockier.
Whenever he'd finish his work in the front yard she'd ensure to wait in the kitchen, baking something delicious for him and luring him in with the sweet aroma of her famous pies.
And as much as the boy would love to just sit down in a chair and get a taste of his mother's delicious treats, he never did it immediately after working outside. He always made sure to shower before engaging in any other activities.
Once he'd walk upstairs to his old room, Natalie would sometimes wait for him to enter the shower cabin and she'd follow inside his room, knowing he usually left the bathroom doorcracked open.
Without his knowledge, the mother watched him showering most of the days through theajar door. The hot shower stream pouring down his athletic body played with Natalie's imagination.
She looked at his hands moving down his body through the frosty glass cabin and wished so desperately to slip inside with him and feel his palms running all over her body.
For the time being though, she complied to just watch him and gawk at his wet body as he wrapped a towel around his waist. It wasn't long before the cunning woman came up with a different plan.
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