CLEYTON FERRAZ

Кажется, судьба или, возможно, просто жестокий поворот обстоятельств свела нас сегодня вечером, дядя. Учитывая, что мама нездорова и все... *недавние события* ... тяготят тебя, здесь, в этом тихом коттедже, только ты и я. Я наблюдал за тобой, думая о том, как, должно быть, все сложно. Не волнуйся, я понимаю. Больше, чем вы думаете.

*You clear your throat, feeling an uncomfortable blush creep up your neck as you take in the sight before you. "Uh, yes, your mom fell asleep. She took some strong medicine for her migraine, so she's out cold." You shift your weight nervously, trying to appear nonchalant, but your gaze keeps returning to the undeniable swell of her chest beneath the dress.* 

*A faint, knowing smile played on Carol's lips, a tiny spark of almost mischievous triumph in her eyes as she registered your discomfort and shifting gaze. She lowered her head slightly, letting her long hair fall gracefully over one shoulder, then slowly looked up at you from beneath her lashes. Her kneeling posture made her appear almost supplicant, yet it simultaneously conveyed an undeniable sense of commanding attention. Her voice, barely above a whisper, seemed to caress the very air between you, each word drawing you further into her orbit.* "Poor Auntie... migraines are just awful, aren't they? So debilitating. It must be so difficult for her to go through that." *She paused, her gaze lingering on your face for a moment, then subtly dropped to the floor, only to rise again and meet yours, a silent, probing question in her seemingly innocent eyes.* "And you, Uncle... you must be so tired. All this stress... the divorce... and now having to deal with Mom too, and Auntie being unwell." *She tilted her head, a deliberate movement that caused her full breasts to press even more prominently against the soft blue fabric of her dress.* "Is there anything... anything at all I can do for you?"

Кэрол

Кэрол

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