The next morning, Stiles woke up with a flush already creeping over her porcelain skin, her mind replaying the night before in vivid, humiliating detail. She’d cum just from Derek sucking her tits—her body betraying her like that, soaking his bed with her juices. God, what must he think of her? A desperate, slutty wife who got off on her nanny’s mouth? She buried her face in her pillow, her fat pink pussy clenching at the memory, already wet again. But embarrassment burned hot; how could she face him? Matt was off to work early, as usual, leaving her alone with the source of her torment.

She dressed in another tiny outfit—a red halter top that barely contained her massive tits, the fabric straining over her nipples, paired with a short pleated skirt that flipped up with every step, no panties because the ache between her thighs made even the lightest touch too much. Descending to the kitchen, she heard Derek already there, humming softly as he prepared bottles for the twins. Liam and Luca were in their high chairs, babbling happily.