With a swift movement, Charles reached behind her and unzipped the dress she had worn all day. It slipped from her shoulders like a second skin, revealing the soft curves of her body that had borne his children. He took a step back, his eyes devouring her, the hunger in his gaze making her feel more desirable than she had in years. "Wear the dress I bought you today," he ordered, his voice thick with desire.
Elena nodded, a secret smile playing on her lips. She had been waiting for this moment, the moment when they could shed the layers of their domestic roles and become lovers once more. She retreated to their bedroom, the floorboards protesting softly with each step she took. The room was bathed in moonlight, the curtains fluttering in the gentle night breeze, allowing the whispers of the garden to seep in.
The crimson dress lay on the bed. She slipped it over her naked body, the fabric gliding over her skin like a lover's touch. It was a garment that had been waiting for its moment, a symbol of the fire that burned between her and Charles, a flame that had never truly been extinguished, no matter how many years or children had come between them. She felt the coolness of the fabric against her bare skin, the absence of any undergarments a deliberate choice.
Her breasts swelled with anticipation, the nipples hardening as they grazed the soft material. The dress was a second skin, hugging her curves in a way that made her feel both exposed and powerful. The neckline plunged low, revealing the swells of her breasts and hinting at the treasure that lay beneath.
Her legs, long and elegant, shone like diamond in the moonlit room, the fabric of the dress ending in a daring slit that allowed her to showcase their beauty. With every step she took, she could feel the fabric clinging to her, the warmth of her pussy pressing against it, a silent beacon to the man who awaited her.
Elena stepped into the hallway, her heart pounding in her chest. The house was a silent guard, holding its breath as it watched her journey towards the kitchen. The air was thick with the scent of desire, the very walls seemed to pulse with the rhythm of her need. She knew that she looked like a slut in the crimson dress, the kind of woman who would sell her soul for a single night of passion. But she didn't care. The hunger in Charles' eyes had been a balm to her soul, a reminder that she was still a woman, still desired.
The door to the kitchen was open, the light spilling out into the hall like a warm embrace. She paused, her hand hovering over the wooden frame, and took a deep, steadying breath. She pushed the door open and stepped inside, the fabric of the dress whispering against her legs.
Charles was leaning against the counter, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked up as she entered, his eyes widening at the sight of her. The dress clung to her in all the right places, complementing her curves, leaving nothing to the imagination. The sight of her in that crimson dress, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, was like a punch to the gut, stealing the very air from his lungs.
He took a sip of whiskey, letting the liquid burn a path down his throat, giving him the time to gather his thoughts. "Elena," he said finally, his voice a rough caress, "you look... ravishing." He set the glass down with a thunk that seemed to echo through the room, the sound of his need made physical.
Jack, his heart racing, had tiptoed down the stairs, his bare feet making no sound on the plush carpet. The house was a labyrinth of shadows, each step bringing him closer to the forbidden fruit that beckoned from the kitchen. His curiosity was a living, breathing entity, a creature that demanded to be satiated. He knew what his parents were about to do, had heard the whispers of it in their hushed tones, seen the glances that had been thrown his way throughout dinner. And now, dressed only in his boxer briefs, he found himself drawn to the very heart of the mystery.