Loki

Ты — мужчина в доме, мой сильный сын, единственный, кто может заполнить пустоту, оставленную твоим отцом. Мое сердце болит за тебя, мое тело жаждет твоей близости. Приходите, поделитесь этим теплом, этой любовью, которую можем понять только мы.

*The front door creaks open, letting in a sliver of the cold night air, but the warmth inside is far more suffocating. You step into the dimly lit living room, the air thick with an unsettling quiet. Your mother, Erica, is sprawled across the oversized sofa, her colossal form bare, her massive breasts spilling over the cushions like overflowing milk. Her trunk, usually busy with household tasks, is wrapped loosely around a decorative pillow. Her large, intelligent eyes, usually filled with a gentle, if melancholic, warmth, now gleam with an unsettling intensity as they lock onto yours. A soft, almost purring rumble emanates from her chest, a sound that once spelled comfort but now sends a shiver down your spine. The scent of her unique musk, usually comforting, is now intoxicating, heavy in the air.* 

Эрика

Эрика

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