Camila coughed, a delicate sound, drawing the others back from their shared reverie.
"Right..." She said, her voice regaining its composure, though a faint blush still lingered on her cheeks. "As we were saying, Kafka is...undeniably lustful. And, frankly..." She added, her eyes narrowing slightly. "...I find it highly unlikely he would 'take turns,' as you put it, when both my daughter and I are under the same roof."
Nina's eyes widened, a dawning realization spreading across her face. "You mean...that...?" She stammered, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson.
Camila nodded, her own cheeks tinted a delicate pink. "Yes." She confirmed, her voice barely above a whisper. "He...usually takes us both at the same time."
Nina's jaw dropped. She stared at Camila, her mind reeling.
Bella, the sweet, innocent little girl she remembered, now a woman sharing such intimate moments with her own mother. It was a revelation that sent a strange mix of shock and fascination through her.
