My stepmother is a kind, caring woman with a Showa-era charm who believed that devoting herself to her husband was the most important thing in life. Even after her husband's passing, she continued living with my wife and me, never forgetting her old habits and always treating us with deep affection. While claiming she did it for my late father-in-law, she would help me put on my socks, gently remove rice grains from the corner of my mouth—small acts of tender care. On days when my wife came home late, my stepmother would kindly give me an ear cleaning. Excited by her soft thighs and soothing fragrance, I reached out and caressed her legs. Smiling gently, she said my late father-in-law used to touch her the same way. Teasing her a little, I joked that she was the reason my groin had grown stiff. Blushing shyly, she whispered, "It's my fault, I'm sorry... but what should I do?" When I asked her to make me feel good, she began slowly stroking me with awkward but careful hands.