Incest Seeds of Sin

[Sengolan]

The car ride back was thick with tension—Raji humming along to the radio in the passenger seat while Gayathri pressed her knees together in the back, the memory of Ravi's fingers between her thighs still burning fresh. Her toe traced idle circles on the floor mat, drifting closer and closer to the driver's seat until the pointed tip of her sandal brushed Ravi's calf. He didn't react—not visibly—but his grip tightened on the gear shift.



Gayathri smirked, dragging her foot higher, slower. Raji was mid-sentence about tomorrow's grocery list when her sandal reached his thigh, pressing deliberately against the growing bulge in his trousers.


Ravi cleared his throat sharply, shifting in his seat.


Raji glanced over, concerned. "You okay?"


"Fine." His voice was strained. Behind him, Gayathri's toes curled, applying just enough pressure to make his jaw clench. "Just—thinking about work."


Raji nodded sympathetically and returned to her magazine. Gayathri's sandal slipped higher, tracing the inseam of his pants with agonizing precision.


Later, when Raji disappeared into the shower, Gayathri cornered Ravi in the kitchen, her back against the fridge as he crowded her. "You're playing with fire," he warned, his fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise.


She tilted her chin up, her breath warm against his lips. "Then burn me."


The shower cut off with a squeak of pipes. Gayathri darted away, rearranging her dupatta with practiced innocence just as Raji padded into the kitchen, towel-drying her hair.


"You two look cozy," Raji mused, reaching past them for a water bottle. Gayathri's eyes flicked to Ravi's—dark with promise—before she ducked her head, the picture of demure sisterly affection.


"Just helping Anna with the dishes," she murmured, her fingers brushing Ravi's under the soapy water in a way that was anything but sisterly.