Too Close For Comfort

In the shadowy haze of their suburban lair, Casey (Spencer Bradley) paces like a caged panther, her nerves frayed as she awaits Shane's (Lucas Frost) stepmother, Marilyn (Jennifer White). Shane's pulse quickens with forbidden hunger for the woman who raised him, but Casey's gut twists with unease—she senses Marilyn's icy disdain, always clawing for Shane's gaze like a jealous siren. Shane brushes it off, swearing it's all in her head, craving this twisted reunion to bind them closer. Before Casey can spit her doubts, Marilyn storms in, suitcases dragging like chains, planting a wet, lingering kiss on Shane's lips that hangs heavy in the air. Casey's stomach churns, but she bites her tongue as Marilyn's eyes rake over her with venomous chill, her affection for Shane dripping like molten lust. Days bleed into a fever of suspicion: first, Marilyn's breath hot in Shane's ear, her smirks slicing at Casey like daggers—Shane claims it's mere menu talk, and Casey swallows the lie. Next, Marilyn's gaze devours Shane's chiseled form, fingers twitching with unspoken craving, ignored in tense silence. But the dam breaks when Casey bursts in on them coiled on the couch, hands roaming with raw, illicit fire—fingers tracing thighs, lips brushing necks in a haze of sweat-slicked sin. 'What the FUCK are you doing?' Casey snarls, voice cracking the humid air like thunder.