Milf Milf Forever.

The summer heat clung to Ride’s skin like a second layer of clothes as he shuffled up Jackie Valentine’s porch steps, his knock echoing through the screen door. The scent of something burnt and sugary wafted through the air—cinnamon rolls, maybe, if cinnamon rolls had been through a warzone. Inside, bare feet slapped against linoleum before the door swung open, revealing Jackie in all her daisy-duke glory, her thighs glistening with a sheen of sweat, her tank top riding up just enough to show off the curve of her hips. A smudge of frosting streaked her cheek like war paint.

“Well, well, well,” Jackie drawled, leaning against the doorframe with a grin that was all teeth. “If it ain’t the college boy hisself. Back to grace us peasants with your big, fancy degree, huh?” Her voice was honey-thick with teasing, the kind of tone that made Ride’s ears burn. She flicked a strand of hair out of her face, smearing more frosting in the process. “C’mon in, sugar. Unless you’re too good for my humble abode now.”

Ride swallowed hard, his throat dry as hell. “N-No, ma’am. Just wanted to, uh… say hi. Since I’m back and all.”

Jackie snorted, stepping aside to let him in. The kitchen was a disaster—bowls piled in the sink, flour dusting the counter like fresh snow, and a tray of what might’ve been cinnamon rolls if they hadn’t been charred black at the edges. A half-mixed bowl of frosting sat abandoned, the whisk still sticking out like a surrender flag.

“Don’t mind the mess,” Jackie said, waving a hand. “Tried my hand at bakin’. Turns out, oven temperatures are more of a suggestion than a rule.” She plucked a misshapen roll off the tray, holding it up like a trophy. “Wanna be my taste-tester? Bet you’ve had all kinds of fancy shit at college. See if my ‘country cooking’ measures up.”

Ride hesitated, but Jackie was already breaking off a piece and shoving it toward his mouth. The second his lips parted, she smirked, pulling it back just enough to make him lean forward. “Aw, eager, ain’tcha? Cute.” She finally let him take the bite, watching his face twist at the overwhelming burnt sugar and undercooked dough.

“Mmph—!” Ride coughed, trying not to gag. “It’s, uh… unique.”

Jackie cackled, slapping her thigh. “That bad, huh? Guess I’ll stick to what I’m good at.” She winked, leaning in just close enough for Ride to catch the scent of vanilla and sweat. “And trust me, darlin’, there’s plenty I’m real good at.”

Ride’s face went nuclear. Jackie just grinned wider, licking frosting off her thumb with exaggerated slowness. “So,” she purred, “tell me all about college. Bet you got up to all kinds of naughty things.”

Ride choked on air. This was gonna be a long visit.

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