CHAPTER 37: ACCEPTANCE

Mira sat slumped atop Eren’s waist, chest heaving, her body emptied of strength. Beneath her, Eren’s own breath came ragged and shallow, his chest rising sharply with each inhale. Every exhale brushed warm against Velira’s slack folds above his face, though her hips had long since gone still after her last weak grind.

Eren had passed out after his final outburst, spilling deep inside Mira. Her cunt still held him within, loosening only slightly, the thick white seeping from her in slow trails that dripped down her thighs. Her bust moving with each uneven breath as faint streaks of dawnlight crept across her waist.

Mira lifted an arm to shield her eyes, peeking toward the dim window. Fatigue tugged at her — the sleepless night, the sudden crash of pleasure — all urging her to surrender and sleep through the morning. But her discipline, the hardened maturity of thirty years, pushed her otherwise. She sighed, steadying herself, and slowly pushed back on her hips, easing herself upright over Eren’s thighs.

Her hand found his cock, still buried inside her. She gave it a gentle shake, loosening the connection, and with a slow pull she drew it out—her folds stretching reluctantly before releasing him, the mess sliding free in a sticky trail.

The wet squelch of liquid echoed faintly as Mira pulled Eren’s length from her. Her breath caught the instant it slipped free—her body clenching at the emptiness, protesting the loss of something that had filled her all night.

She hated it—the feeling, still wanting more. This was only her second time ever with a man—yet already her body craved the size and weight of Eren’s cock.

A sigh shuddered from her lips as she lifted herself fully off him "maybe next time" she muttered as white seed, mixed with her own arousal, spilled from her quivering slit, seeping down her thighs in slow, sticky trails. She stood, pausing only to watch the mess drip, as though unwilling to let go of what they had shared.

Her hand reached for a cloth to wipe herself clean—but after a heartbeat she stopped, a small smile tugging at her mouth. No. This was his. She didn’t want to erase him from her body so quickly. Instead, she pushed the rag aside and turned to where her gown which lay crumpled, slouched to the floor. The middle was still stained from last night’s passion, dark patches marking where she’d pressed.

Mira sighed, the memory of their heat still alive in her senses. Her walls quivering, faint tremors running through her as she tugged the gown back over her body. The sweat had dried, the dampness gone, but the fabric still carried the marks of her arousal.

Mira’s fingers brushed the fabric. It rustled faintly before she let it slip from her hand.

Then, as her gaze drifted toward the futon—Velira still straddled across Eren’s face, head slumped against his waist. Her eyes were closed, lips parted in sleep, just above Eren’s trembling cock. Beneath her weight, his body lay slack, chest rising and falling in steady, exhausted breaths.

Mira exhaled slowly and let them rest. Her eyes drifted to the scatter of clothes thrown about the room—Eren’s shirt from yesterday, Velira’s panties crumpled nearby, her bra left close to Eren’s head. Mira bent down, gathered each piece in her arms, and folded them with deliberate care.

When she rose, her thighs ached. The muscles near her slit still quivered from last night’s relentless bouncing, making each step uneven. Still, she steadied herself and carried the bundle toward the bath. Her legs faltered once, but she pressed on, pushing open the door.

The wooden floor creaked beneath her feet as she stepped inside, the quiet sound carrying into the stillness of dawn.

In the far corner of the bathroom stood two large containers filled with river water. Mira pulled the wooden tub closer and filled it, then settled herself onto a low stool. She reached for the block of lye soap, dipped the bundle of clothes into the water, and rubbed them against the washboard she kept inside.

The rhythmic splash and scrub echoed softly, carrying through the bathroom walls into the room—yet neither Velira nor Eren stirred. Velira still slept draped over him, their breaths calm and steady, the sound of washing fading into the background like a lullaby.

When she was finished, Mira rose, her gown damp from the splashes. She gathered the clean clothes into a small tub, pushed open the back door, and stepped into the yard. Morning greeted her with birdsong and a gentle breeze rustling through the trees.

A calm smile touched her lips as she carried the load to the drying frame Eren had built for her long ago. Carefully, she pressed each cloth flat and spread it over the wooden beams, leaving them to sway and dry in the morning air.

She turned toward the side where a large metal tub stood, set aside for heating water. Lifting it with care, she carried it closer to the bathroom door, then fetched a ladle. From the large container she scooped and poured, filling the tub steadily with clear river water.

Moving lightly, Mira eased the door open, careful not to wake the two sleeping figures within, and crossed toward the kitchen. The utensils from the night before were still stacked neatly near the door. She unlatched the lock, slipping inside to find the pile of firewood waiting in bundled stacks. She pulled a batch free and carried it back outside, her gown fluttering faintly as she stepped into the yard.

There she set the wood in careful formation, placing stones around it to make a sturdy stand before settling the tub atop. With practiced hands she struck the fire, the faint smoke curling upward as the water began to warm.

When the fire was steady, she returned to the bathing room, rinsing the big wooden bathtub with cold water to cleanse it. Then, without pause, she went back toward the kitchen once more, gathering the utensils left from last night to wash them clean.

She scrubbed the last of the plates clean, refilling the makeshift stove with wood as the water boiled. An hour slipped by unnoticed before she stepped out of the kitchen for the final time, crossing the yard to lift the heavy tub. With effort she carried it into the bathroom, pouring the steaming water into the large bath and topping it off with cool river water from the container. The mix balanced perfectly—warm, soothing, just right for the morning wash.

Her skin was slick with sweat, damp patches clinging to her gown. She caught the fabric at her sides and pulled it open, peeling it away from her body. Her nipples, stuck to the cloth with heat and perspiration, sprang free into the cool air as she stepped toward the tub. Leaving the back door ajar, Mira slipped into the bath. The water embraced her at once, heat sinking into her sore muscles. A long sigh escaped her lips, curling with faint smog in the air.

"Eren!" she called out, her voice echoing softly.

No reply.

She tried again, a little louder. "Eren! The bathwater will go cold—come here."

Silence.

Her jaw tightened. Gathering breath, she shouted once more, this time at the top of her lungs.

"Velira!"

Her voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. The bathroom fell quiet afterward, her call hanging unanswered.

Mira let out a long sigh as she leaned back fully into the tub, not caring anymore, her body splayed wide. Her shoulders pressed against the wooden wall, her heavy breasts floating gently on the surface as the warm water rocked around her. She shifted slowly, letting herself drift in the rare moment of quiet.

Her gaze turned to the side, and for the first time since last night, she let her thoughts slip free. Her hands rested along the edges of the tub, fingers loose, as questions pressed in on her.

About Velira. Eren. And Herself.

Was she truly meant to accept Velira as part of this now? To allow her presence in their bed, in their nights? And worse—could she accept her own actions? Using her own nephew’s body as though he were nothing more than a stallion to mount—blood relation or not?

Her chest rose with a weary sigh. No answer came; she could not reconcile it. The jealousy toward Velira lingered like a thorn, and yet so too did the guilt of her own indulgence. Her eyes slid shut, her lips shaping a faint whisper. "What am I supposed to do..."

The sunlight grew brighter outside, spilling more sharply through the window as the morning wore on.

Then, behind the thin walls, Mira heard a faint rustle. A sluggish voice followed, drowsy and blurred by sleep.

"...Please... don’t go..."

Mira’s ears strained toward the sound. Someone talking in their dreams, perhaps?

But just as suddenly as it came, it slipped away into silence.

She sank back in, deeper into the bath, as the water rippled—her heart still quiet, but unsettled.

Soon, the faint sound of footsteps broke through the quiet, but Mira stayed sunk in her thoughts, the water lapping softly around her.

Eren slipped into the bathroom, rubbing at his eyes with a yawn. His gaze swept toward the open back door as he called, half-asleep, "Aunt Mira?"

Her head turned at his voice. "Eren?" she answered, her breasts drifting at the surface of the bath, skin gleaming pale under the morning light.

Eren froze. His heavy eyes blinked into clarity as he saw her white, glistening skin glowing against the water. For a heartbeat he just stared—then, as his memory struck, he rushed closer, hands clutched tight.

"I’m sorry, Aunt Mira," he blurted. "I didn’t mean... I didn’t know it would lead to that. That we’d end up—"

Mira sighed softly and reached out, brushing her damp fingers against his side in a gentle caress. "It’s alright, Eren," she murmured. Her breath shuddered as she added, "Even if you’re my nephew... I still ended up doing it with you... I could understand Velira’s pressure."

She tilted her face toward him, her eyes locking into his. "Just..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "...make sure you give me my part."

Before he could reply, Mira rose up from the water, droplets sliding from her skin, and pressed her lips firmly against his. The morning light spilled through the doorway, catching on the wet curves of her body as her mouth sealed his in silence.