Elena's breath caught in her throat, the image so vivid she could almost feel the heat of Jack's body beneath her, the power of his muscles as he thrust up into her. Her hand moved of its own accord, sliding down to her own sex, the fabric of her dress sodden with her desire. Edith watched, her own breath quickening, the sight of her daughter-in-law's lust a heady aphrodisiac.
With trembling fingers, Elena pushed her dress up, exposing her nakedness to the cool kitchen air. Her skin was flushed with desire, her breasts heavy and aching for the touch she knew she shouldn't crave. Edith's eyes took in the sight hungrily, her own hand slipping beneath her skirt, her touch echoing the rhythm of Elena's. "Look at yourself," she urged, her voice thick with need. "Look at how much you want it."
Elena obeyed, her gaze dropping to where her hand worked feverishly at her own sex. She felt the betrayal of her body, the wetness that coated her fingers, the way her body arched and begged for more. Yet, she couldn't look away, mesmerized by the sight of her own lust. "Yes," she breathed, the word a sigh of defeat and surrender. "I want it."
Edith's eyes narrowed with hunger, her own hand moving more urgently beneath her skirt. "Say it, Elena. Say what you want," she demanded, her voice a low growl.
Elena's gaze flickered up to meet hers, a maelstrom of emotions swirling in their depths. "I... I want... I want..." she stuttered, her voice trembling as she fought against the rising tide of desire.
But the words remained lodged in her throat, the very concept of voicing her incestuous yearnings too overwhelming to bear. Her hand stilled on her sex, her breathing erratic, as she grappled with the magnitude of what Edith was asking her to admit. The grandmother's eyes searched hers, a silent challenge that seemed to strip away every shred of dignity and decorum she had ever known.
"Would you like to hear it from his own mouth?" Edith whispered, her eyes darkening with an intensity that sent a bolt of lightning through Elena's core.
The question hung in the air, a tantalizing fruit just out of reach. Elena's pulse raced, her body torn between the fiery need that Edith had so expertly kindled and the cold realization of the horror that lay before her. Yet, the allure of the forbidden was a siren's call she could no longer resist. She nodded, the smallest of gestures that seemed to shake the very foundations of the house.
Edith's smile grew wider, a cat that had just caught a particularly juicy mouse. She leaned back in her chair, the fabric of her chair creaking beneath her, the sound as loud as thunder in the suddenly quiet room. "Good," she said, her voice a velvet purr. "Now, go. Hide behind the door and watch."
Elena felt a strange mix of fear and excitement as she slid from her chair, her legs unsteady. She paused for a moment, looking back at Edith, who nodded encouragingly. With a deep breath, she moved to the door, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum announcing her treachery. She pressed her back against the cool wood, the knob digging into her spine like an accusation. The house, once a bastion of love and comfort, now felt like a prison, the walls closing in around her. Yet, she couldn't resist the siren's call of the forbidden.