The morning light filtered through the thin curtains of the old family cabin, casting a soft glow over the breakfast table. Jake sat rigid in his chair, fork hovering over a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon that tasted like cardboard. His partner, Riley, was chatting animatedly with their mom about some hiking trail nearby, completely oblivious or at least pretending to be. But Jake? He couldn't even lift his gaze from the tablecloth. Every creak of the wooden floorboards upstairs last night replayed in his head like a porn reel on loop. The way he'd pinned Riley down on that squeaky bed, hips slamming forward with wet, rhythmic slaps that echoed through the thin walls. "Fuck, harder—give me that cock," Riley had gasped, voice breaking into moans that definitely carried. Jake's balls had slapped against Riley's ass with each thrust, the headboard banging out a steady beat while he buried himself balls-deep, stretching that tight hole until it clenched and pulsed around him. Cum had leaked out in thick ropes when he finally pulled out, Riley's hole gaping and dripping, both of them panting and whispering filthy nothings that weren't nearly quiet enough. And now, here were Riley's parents—Mom sipping coffee with a knowing little smile, Dad flipping through the newspaper but with that subtle jaw clench. Jake could feel the heat crawling up his neck. Did they hear the exact moment Riley begged for it doggy-style, ass up and face buried in the pillow to muffle screams? The wet squelch of lube and precum as Jake railed them through two orgasms? The final, guttural groan when Jake unloaded deep inside, flooding that ass until it overflowed? "Morning, Jake," Riley's dad said casually, sliding the syrup across the table. Their eyes met for a split second—Jake's darting away like he'd been burned. "Sleep well?" The question hung there, loaded. Jake's cock twitched traitorously under the table at the memory, even as shame burned his cheeks. Riley shot him a wicked grin under the table, foot brushing his calf. "Yeah, Dad. Real... restful night." Jake forced a nod, stabbing at his eggs. He couldn't look them in the eyes. Not when he knew they'd heard every thrust, every slap of skin on skin, every desperate "I'm gonna cum in you—fuck, take it all." Breakfast stretched on like torture, the air thick with unspoken knowledge. By the time the plates were cleared, Jake was rock-hard again, already plotting how to drag Riley back upstairs for round two—quieter this time, maybe. Or not.