One

Cassandra beamed as she swung open the door to the guest room, her heart dancing to the lively rhythm that filled the air. The infectious melody of a chart-topping song enveloped her, pulling her into a lighthearted sway. The vibrant notes seemed to weave through the space, igniting the atmosphere with an energy that matched her joyful spirit.

She gently set down her school bag and sneakers, the soft thud barely audible over the melodies streaming through her headset. Her feet glided effortlessly, tiptoeing with grace to the rhythm of the song that filled her ears. As she approached the long, plush sofa, she noticed a young man nestled in peaceful slumber, his chest rising and falling gently in the quiet of the room.

She gazed at the man lounging on the sofa, his eyes gently closed as if he were lost in a dream. With deliberate slowness, she began to unbutton her shirt, each button releasing a sense of anticipation in the air. Drawing in a breath, she stepped closer to him, feeling the warmth radiating from his body, her heart racing at the thought of their age difference, a dozen years separating their worlds.

Cassandra watched the tranquil expression of the man with the thin mustache, his face bathed in the gentle light filtering through the window. As he slept, his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, a testament to the deep slumber consuming him. The peacefulness of his features was almost mesmerizing, and it was clear he remained blissfully unaware of her presence, despite her intention to rouse him from his dreams.

With a gentle yet deliberate motion, the girl extended her index finger, carefully tugging at the fabric that clung to the man's body. A playful smile danced across her lips as the layers fell away, revealing the chiseled muscles that adorned his stomach. The defined contours of his abs seemed to glisten in the soft light, a testament to strength and fitness that captivated her gaze.

The man remained rooted in place, his body heavy with fatigue. Every muscle ached, and he was blissfully unaware of Cassandra's presence, even as she perched lightly on him. Her slender form seemed to contrast starkly with his stillness, an ethereal weightlessness against his palpable exhaustion.

"Uncle Marc, you must be tired, right?" she whispered in his ear. "Do you want me to massage like last time, Dear?”

There was no response to Cassandra's heartfelt offer. Marc, deeply entranced by the remnants of his dreams, remained oblivious to the world around him, still immersed in the enchanting depths of the Papua jungle. In the vivid landscape of his subconscious, the gentle caresses that enveloped him felt reminiscent of the delicate brush of leaves he had navigated through during his journey, each one whispering secrets of the forest he had momentarily left behind.

But suddenly, Marc felt a peculiar, rubbery sensation brush against his lips, evoking a sense of nostalgia from a distant past. It was an unfamiliar yet oddly familiar contact, like that of something he hadn’t touched in what felt like an eternity. A woman! The warmth of the moment hung in the air, stirring emotions he thought he'd long buried.

Marc was undeniably a womanizer, notorious for his charm and charisma. However, he was selective, never indulging his desires on just any woman. In the remote wilderness of Papua, this selectivity was even more pronounced, as the stunning landscape was devoid of suitable companionship. The only female presence he encountered was the guide, whose rugged appearance did not meet the standards of beauty he had meticulously constructed in his mind. The isolation amplified his longing, leaving him to wander amidst the striking scenery, grappling with his unfulfilled desires.

How could he make love to her? This was a nightmare, even the worst for Marc. He felt his shaft start to harden and something seemed to be squeezing him.

"Ah ...." He sighed in his subconscious.

"Uncle Marc." This time Cassandra's voice managed to wake the man up.

The voice seemed to jolt Marc back from his subconscious. And, of course, Marc was surprised to see someone in front of him. His eyes widened when he saw Cassandra, his niece, without a single thread sitting on his lap. The girl was even smiling broadly with her hand on his shaft.

Marc pushed her away. He really felt embarrassed and messed up. "Sandra, what are you doing? What if your daddy finds out?" he said frantically while closing the zipper of his gaping jeans again.

"Daddy won't know, really. He's only coming home next week," Cassandra said calmly. The girl picked up her shirt to put it back on. "I was happy when I heard that you were coming home. So now we can play like we used to as much as we want."

"We'll continue tonight, Uncle Marc," Cassandra said before closing the door to Marc's room.

Marc stood in stunned silence, his eyes wide with disbelief. How could his once-innocent niece have transformed into someone so wild in just a few short years since he left for overseas duty? It felt like he’d blinked and watched her grow up in an instant, her youthful spirit bursting forth in unexpected ways he never could have imagined.

The man rose from his seat, the sunlight glinting off the glass as he filled it with cool, refreshing water. He raised it to his lips and took a long, hurried gulp, feeling the crisp liquid cascade down his throat. As he drank, he wished fervently that the purity of the water would wash away the murky fog of his troubling thoughts, leaving his mind clear and unburdened.

Byurrr!

The sound rang in Marc's ears. A sound like something splashing into a pond. Inevitably, Marc treated his curiosity. He opened the balcony door of his room and peered out.The sound echoed in Marc's ears, a sudden splash reminiscent of an object breaking the surface of a still pond. Compelled by an irresistible curiosity, he approached the balcony door of his room, the cool air brushing against his skin. With a gentle push, he swung the door open and leaned out, peering into the fading light, eager to uncover the source of the mysterious noise.

A girl with a stunning physique glided effortlessly through the crystalline waters of the pool, her movements reminiscent of a graceful ballet. Sunlight danced upon the surface, casting shimmering reflections that highlighted her elegant form in the two-piece swimsuit. Even from the top floor of his brother’s house, Marc found himself captivated by the enchanting scene.

Cassandra felt the weight of Marc’s gaze upon her, compelling her to pause mid-stroke, the rhythmic dance of her arms and legs coming to an abrupt halt. With a graceful lift of her head, she sought him out, her eyes meeting his from the balcony that overlooked her. In that moment, a radiant smile broke across her face, the warmth of it illuminating her features and enhancing the delicate beauty that defined her. She raised her hand in a cheerful wave, a gesture that seemed to bridge the distance between them, filled with an unspoken charm that captivated him even further.

“Absolutely stunning! I've never encountered a woman as flawless as she is,” Marc sighed softly, his gaze fixed on her enchanting figure. He lifted his hand, a gentle wave catching the sunlight as he responded to Cassandra’s smile, feeling a rush of warmth wash over him.

But a moment later, a sudden jolt pulled him back to the stark reality of his surroundings.

"Wow, that's wild! Am I actually losing it? She's my niece! Irfan's kid!" he thought. "No matter how great she is, I just can't feel that way about her."

Marc headed back to his room, thinking, "I guess I should just stay away from her from now on. Seems like the smart move."

Knock! Knock!

"Uncle Marc, let me in!" Sandra yelled, still tapping her fingers on the wooden door to the guest room. "It's really important! Dad told me to come ask you for help!"

Hearing the word "daddy" made Marco automatically open the door for Cassandra. He couldn’t just brush off Irfan’s request—his brother had played such a big role in his life. After all, Irfan had always been there for him, guiding him through all the ups and downs.

The girl who was still in her swimsuit without hesitation waltzed into Marc's room.Without a moment's hesitation, the girl, still clad in her vibrant swimsuit that clung to her sun-kissed skin, gracefully waltzed into Marc's room, her confidence radiating like the summer sun. The air was thick with warmth as she stepped over the threshold, the playful fabric of her swimwear swaying gently with each movement, illuminating her carefree spirit.

"Dad said Sandra was supposed to learn how to swim with you," she said. "Does Uncle Marc know how to swim?"

"Nah, I’m not a swim coach."

"But Dad said Uncle Marc has a ton of swimming medals," Cassandra insisted, clearly sharing what she had picked up from her father.

Marc let out a deep sigh, a heavy weight settling in his chest. Refusing Cassandra's request was proving to be far more complicated than he had initially anticipated. They shared the same roof, tangled in a complicated web of familial ties, and the echoes of their shared laughter and arguments lingered in the walls around them. Despite the friction that often simmered beneath the surface, the bond they had as family made it difficult for him to say no.

"Nah, I'm not a swimming coach," Marc said, turning to push the girls out of his room.

But again Marc was made awkward when he accidentally touched the girl's chest. The part that was only covered by two triangular pieces of cloth felt wet. Not only that, it was supple, firm, and bigger than a child of her age.

Marc pulled his hand back, but instead of getting angry, Cassandra stepped closer, looking him straight in the eye without a hint of fear. She didn’t back down; instead, her calm confidence was almost challenging, as if she was ready to face whatever came next.

"Uncle Marc, remember when we used to hang out and even crash out together? What’s up with the change now?"

"Sandra, that was ages ago. Childhood is behind us now. As an adult, we can't do the same stuff we used to when you were a kid."

"But why?" Cassandra asked. "You don't like me anymore, do you?"

"It's not like that, no."

"Then why? I’ve been waiting for you for so long! I just don’t understand why Uncle would let me down like this. It feels like Uncle Marc doesn’t like me anymore, doesn’t it?" The girl wiped away her tears.

"It's not like that at all! Ouch!" Marc laughed a little while scratching his hair, looking a bit anxious. He was searching for the right words to express himself.

"Uncle Marc cares about you so much, and that’s why I –"

"Alright, that's enough for now!" Sandra gently interrupted, sensing that the next words could be a little too painful for her to hear again.

"So ... tonight we will play piggyback first, ok. Then we sleep there!" Cassandra continued while pointing her finger at a king-sized bed not far from where she was standing. "Sandra doesn't want to sleep alone again tonight.”

"Hah!" Marc widened his eyes in shock. "Sss-- sleeping with her?"

Marc hurriedly closed the door to his room. His heart was racing. He had never felt anything like this. Not even when dealing with any woman.

"Shit!" he shouted before entering the bathroom.

Because of a girl, this time Marc had to play with soap!