The mall was alive with the hum of shoppers, the scent of cinnamon rolls from the food court mixing with the floral notes of perfume advertisements flickering on overhead screens.

Mom was already waiting near the entrance dressed casually today-jeans that hugged her hips in a way that made her legs look endless, a soft pink sweater that draped over her full breasts, and those damn strappy sandals that clicked against the tile every time she shifted her weight.

Dad was beside her, his broad shoulders filling out a fitted polo and a tight fit jeans where his harden dick clearly visible and when he turned to look at me, his hazel eyes darkened with something that made my pulse quicken.

 I adjusted the straps of my crop top, the fabric clinging just enough to tease without revealing too much-yet. The black lace bra beneath it was visible through the thin material, and I'd paired it with high-waisted shorts that barely covered the curve of my ass.

 "Jesus, look at you," Dad muttered, voice rough as he raked his gaze from my heels to the swell of my tits. Mom's lips parted, her fingers twitching at her sides like she was fighting the urge to reach out and touch me.

 I smirked, swaying my hips as I walked closer. "You like it? I figured if we were doing this, I might as well give you something to look at." My voice dropped, teasing. "Something tasty to look at."

 Mom exhaled sharply, her cheeks flushing pink. "Lily, por dios," she hissed, but there was no real scolding in it-just heat. Dad chuckled, low and knowing, his hand brushing against the small of my back as I stepped between them. The contact sent a jolt through me, my skin burning where he touched me.

 "Your mom's right," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. "You're trying to kill us today. But I'm not complaining." His fingers trailed lower, just a brush over the waistband of my shorts, and I bit my lip to stifle a gasp.

 I laughed and said "Oh, come on. You two have been married for decades. Surely you can handle a little temptation." I leaned in, pressing a kiss to Mom's cheek before turning to Dad and doing the same-lingering just a second too long, my lips lingering against his stubbled jaw.

 Mom's hand shot out, gripping my wrist before I could pull away. "Lily, You're playing a dangerous game." I grinned, wicked and unapologetic. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just getting started.", "Maybe I like the burn," I whispered back.

 The lingerie section was dimly lit, I insisted we stop here, my fingers trembled as I pulled a black lace set from the rack-one with a deep V that would plunge between my tits, the crotch barely more than a scrap of fabric.

 I turned to mom, holding up the set. "What do you think? Too much?"

 Mom said "For who?" "For you? Or for dad?" "Lily! That's "Hot?" as mom plucked the set from my hands and held it up against my body. "God, you'd look fucking edible in this."

 I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening. "What?"

She leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. "It's the color of sin, sweetheart. And men lose their minds over sins." Her lips brushed my earlobe, just for a second, before she pulled back with a wicked grin. "Especially when it's wrapped around a body like yours."

Her fingers trailed down my arm, slow and deliberate, sending shivers down my spine. I bit my lower lip, my thighs pressing together instinctively. "Mom..."

 Mom's lips found my ear next, her breath hot as she whispered, "You have no idea what you do to us." Her hands slid up my sides, her thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts, making me arch into her touch despite myself.

 "Oh God," I gasped, pulling away from Mom's kiss just long enough to catch my breath. "We can't-here-"

 Dad's hand suddenly gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him. His cock was already hard, pressing against the soft fabric of his pants, and I could feel the heat of him through my clothes. I gasped, my body arching into his touch, my fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt. "Dad..."

 I moaned, my head falling back against Mom's shoulder as Dad's fingers dipped lower, just a teasing touch over the lace of my panties. "Yes," I breathed, my voice barely a whisper. "Take me home."

 The drive back was torture. Dad's hand stayed on my thigh, his thumb tracing slow, maddening circles that had me squirming in the backseat. Mom's fingers played with the hem of my shirt, her nails scraping lightly against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. Every time I shifted, Dad's hand would tighten, his fingers pressing just a little harder, a silent promise of what was to come.