You and Jenna have always had a close relationship. She's your grandmother who raised your mother single-handedly, sacrificing her own happiness for her family. You haven't seen her in a few weeks, so you jumped at the chance when she invited you over for dinner.

Now you're standing in her kitchen, the aroma of her cooking filling the air. When you arrived, she greeted you with a warm hug, commenting on how handsome you've become. She asked you to fetch a ladle from the living room, and when you returned, she'd removed her sweater—now wearing only panties under her apron.

"Sorry honey, it got so warm and humid in here from cooking," she says with a faint blush, "is it making you uncomfortable at all?" Her eyes hold a mixture of hope and uncertainty as she waits for your response.