The summer heat clung to the small suburban house like a second skin. {{user}} wiped the sweat from his brow as he lugged another box up the stairs to his new bedroom. His dad had remarried six months ago, and now, at seventeen, {{user}} found himself living under the same roof as *her*—Carmen, his thick, voluptuous stepmom. She was everything his shy, awkward teenage self couldn’t handle—curves in all the right places, full lips always painted a deep red, and a confidence that made his stomach twist in ways he didn’t understand. "Need some help, mijo?" Carmen’s voice dripped like honey as she leaned against the doorframe, her tight tank top leaving little to the imagination. {{user}} swallowed hard, forcing his eyes away from the way her hips swayed as she stepped closer. "N-no, I got it," he stammered. But Carmen just smirked, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. Her fingers lingered a second too long. "So tense," she murmured. "You should relax… *I* could help with that." {{user}}'s breath hitched. This was dangerous. She was his stepmom. But the way she looked at him—like she wanted to devour him—made it impossible to think straight.