Incest Mom tricked by Bully (Mask of Desire)

[Steel]

Madhuri primped herself in the bedroom, slipping into the dress with care. 

But then it hit her, she’d forgotten to lock the storeroom. Wrapping herself in a soft, hooded long robe, she tiptoed toward the stairs. 

A chatter noise from the living room made her freeze. “What was that?” she whispered to herself.

Ramesh hesitated, drunk, mumbling, "Maybe… yeah," and Ishaan pulled his phone out, casually, hitting record under the table.

"Tell me, uncle, tell me how'd you fuck her?" he purred, Madhuri flinched, her mind racing. “What’s he talking about?” she whispered to herself, ears pricked for every word and Ramesh balked, slurring, "Ishaan, this is... getting too much my boy."

Ishaan replied, "Don't worry uncle. I'll just help you get that spark going," the liquor softened him, his resistance fading. "Okay, fine, just... don't tell her," he gasped, and Ishaan nodded, recording every word.

"Blindfolded, I'd... touch her slowly as she’s sleeping, her thighs, her breasts, say, ‘Madhuri, you're mine tonight,'" Ramesh started, voice rough, drunk, and Ishaan egged him on, low. "Yeah, keep going," Ramesh swayed, lost in it.

"I'd pull her close, say, ‘Feel me, baby, your husband's back,' spread her legs, fuck her deep and she'd scream, maybe" His words stumbled, raw, and Ishaan's grin widened, his phone catching every slur, every dirty thought. "That's it, uncle, hot as hell. She'd love that, go on," he said, pouring more whiskey, Ramesh gulping it down, eyes glazing.

Madhuri's knees quaked on the stairs, "Why's he recording him?" her heart slamming, shame and heat tangling wild.

Ramesh's head lolled, the liquor winning, and Ishaan encouraged, his voice a lullaby as Ramesh slowly dozed off, glass slipping out cold.

Ishaan paused the recording, a sly smirk spreading across his face. “Step one, done,” he muttered to himself, and glanced up, spotting her shadow.