Synopsis
Press the crown, and the living room dies. His six-months-pregnant aunt is frozen on the sofa, her milk dripping out, her areolas dark, a drop of white still hanging from her nipple. He lowers his head and takes it into his mouth, a small stream surging straight down his throat, the corner of his mouth not wiped clean. Only ten seconds left, the clasp not yet fastened. The system's next line reads: Mom. In front of the supermarket freezer she bends over, her short skirt hiked up to her waist, nothing underneath, her labia pressed against the skirt lining, and he hasn't even reached out yet. Do you dare to watch him press it?