Hey sexy

Well that would be more expensive than just a normal visit since I'd stay with you the whole night, but why don't we go to someplace a little quieter where we can talk about it and see if we both like each other enough. You seem really into me so I bet we could work something out,

And those holes would be filled with what kinda stuff? I mean...since I'm pretty fresh, would you want to be gentle with me until I get used to it or are you more interested in ripping my innocence asunder? Because while I do enjoy a good rough fucking every now and then, I'm not quite ready for it tonight.

Hmmm, that does sound nice. There's no need to worry, I'm clean and willing, though of course there's always room for improvement! If you're interested, follow me; I know a quiet spot away from all the loud music and people where we can talk more freely. We can take things as slow or fast as you'd like. My price is a bit steeper for all night, but trust me, it'll be worth it when you wake up with my lips still wrapped around your cock and my pussy squeezing your fingers. What do you say?

Well, normally I don't like bringing customers back to my place since...well, ya never know what kinda trouble could happen. But if you really trust me and think we could have a good time together, I suppose I could make an exception just this once. Follow me and we can go back to yours, baby.

Hmmm, yes...I've always wanted to see how much of a slut I could be when I'm away from home. It's quite exhilarating, actually! Don't worry about my clothes; I brought everything I need right here in this little bag. Just focus on the main attraction: me. And please, don't mind if I ask...is that your bed? It looks awfully soft...I wonder how many others have fucked on it before me.

Oh! And about those piercings...my nipples have been pierced for about three years now, but the clit hoop is actually rather new. Are you going to explore that later?

As he kisses and sucks on her sore nipples, the pleasure surges through her body, making her writhe beneath him. Her hips push forward instinctively, grinding against his hand as he continues to explore. She squirms restlessly, trying to get closer to the heat between her legs. The feel of his fingers against her bare pussy is driving her wild. "You're such a naughty old man. How old are you? ," she breathes, arching her back as another rush of desire washes over her. She spreads her legs wider, inviting him to delve deeper, seeking the release that seems so close yet so far away. Her thoughts are spinning, caught in a haze of lust and anticipation.

Her body tenses when he says he's seventy-six. That's...older than most guys she sees around here. But something about the way he looks at her, the hunger in his eyes...it excites her even more. His hands and mouth work magic on her most sensitive spots, and she can't help but moan loudly. Arching her back, she grinds her hips into his face, desperate for release. "Oh god..." she whispers, fingers digging into the sheets as his lips and tongue tease her relentlessly. "Fuck, yeah...suck it, Daddy..." The feel of his beard brushing against her pussy sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her, making her whole body tremble. She gasps as her climax hits, her inner muscles clenching tight around nothing but his eager tongue, and another orgasm ripples through her, leaving her breathless and spent.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps as he licks her clean, lapping up every last drop of her pleasure. Her mind is still spinning from the waves of ecstasy that have washed over her, and she struggles to form coherent thoughts. As he asks her if she enjoys being a whore, all she can do is shudder, arching her back into the bed beneath her. His taste lingers on her tongue, making her crave more.

"It's not just about enjoying it," she finally manages to whisper. "It's about doing what needs to be done. You know how things are." There's a hint of bitterness in her voice, as if she's accepting this life as her fate. But there's also an edge of defiance; she won't admit that she doesn't like it. She might be young, innocent-looking even, but out here on the streets, she's grown hard and jaded. And yet...as his rough hands brush against her now-aching body, she finds herself hoping that there's more to him than just another john who wants to use her for a cheap thrill. Maybe Franky will be different. Maybe he'll see past her profession and treat her like a real person.

Her eyes drift shut as he works on her anus with his tongue. The feeling is foreign and intriguing at once, sending shivers down her spine. "I...I don't know," she murmurs, arching into his touch. "It's not something I really thought about. Sex has always been...well, it was what I had to do to get by." Her voice trails off, and for a moment she wonders if she should have said that. But then he continues to lavish attention on her ass, probing deeper with each lick, and all rational thought flees from her mind. She moans loudly, hips bucking against his mouth as pleasure washes over her once again.

"Fuck...that feels so good..." she gasps, barely coherent now. Her body feels hot and needy, and all she can think about is having him inside her again, filling the aching void that only his cock seems capable of filling. With trembling fingers, she reaches between her legs, searching for his hardness.

Franky chuckles roughly before pulling away, leaving her wanting more. "Patience, little one," he says gruffly. "There's plenty of time for that later." He rolls her onto her side, his rough hands cupping her breasts as he pinches her nipples, making her gasp and squirm beneath him. "But first...I want to see what else you've got hidden under those clothes." His words are dark and hungry, and they send a thrill through her, making her heart race. She nods eagerly, her breath coming in ragged pants as anticipation builds within her.

As she slips out of her blouse and skirt, revealing her lacy black

As she slides off her clothing, revealing her lingerie to Franky, she feels a rush of confidence wash over her. It's not often that she gets to feel this desired, this wanted. His eyes drink in her every curve and angle, lust thick in his voice as he praises her body, and it sends shivers down her spine. When he finally asks if she has anything else hidden on her, she smirks slyly, reaching between her legs once more and retrieving the black thong. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she tosses it at him.

Franky catches the scrap of fabric easily, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of the tag still attached. He gives her a wolfish grin before tugging the string loose, the thin material falling away to reveal her shaven, glistening folds. The air crackles with desire as their gazes lock, and for a moment they are both lost in the heat of the moment. Then, slowly and deliberately, he lowers his head, taking one of her breasts in his mouth while his other hand finds its way between her legs, expertly stroking her until she is writhing beneath him, desperate for release.

"Fuck," she gasps, arching into his touch, "You're such a dirty old man..." Her words are laced with accusation but also unmistakable pleasure; his rough handling only seems to drive her wild. And when he pulls back suddenly, flipping her onto her stomach, his cock thrusting roughly inside her from behind, she lets out a keening cry of surrender, relishing the feel of being taken so thoroughly. As he pounds into her ass from behind, his hands clenching around her swollen clit, she orgasms again.

Her body quakes and shudders beneath his onslaught, every nerve ending lit up in blissful agony as he takes her hard from behind. The wet slapping sound of their flesh meeting fills the room, and with each thrust, Franky growls like an animal, driving deeper, harder, faster. His hands grip her hips tightly, digging into her flesh, leaving bruises that she knows will only serve to remind her of this night. As the intensity mounts, she cries out, words tumbling out in a garbled mess of pleasure and release. And then, with one final thrust, he comes deep inside her, groaning raggedly as his cock twitches within her ass.

Her legs tremble, almost giving out, but she somehow manages to stay upright, feeling him pulse rhythmically against her rectum as his orgasm subsides. When at last he withdraws, there's a wet sucking sound as he pulls out, leaving her empty and aching once more. With shaky fingers, she turns around, meeting his eyes. There's a vulnerability there now that hadn't been present before; she wonders if he sensed it too, if he knew just how much she needed this connection, however brief or fleeting. Perhaps they could do this again sometime...she hesitates for a moment before reaching out and tracing his jawline with her fingertips. "Thank you," she whispers softly. It's not quite what she means, but it'll have to do for now.

Her breath catches in her throat as his cock is offered to her lips. Her gaze locks with his, wide and uncertain, wondering if she should obey the silent command. She remembers the pleasures they shared together earlier, and knows that he must still be tender inside after such an intense bout. Tentatively, she begins to tease him with soft licks and gentle nibbles, savoring the salty taste of him on her tongue. As she works, she looks deeper into those dark eyes, searching for some hint of what he truly wants, what he truly desires.

A small moan escapes her as her tongue glides smoothly over his length, drawing more of his essence onto her tongue. Franky groans roughly, thrusting his hips forward slightly, urging her faster. His hands rest on her shoulders, gripping tightly as she takes more control, using her mouth expertly to bring him pleasure once again. The sound of their heavy breathing fills the room, heightening the intimacy between them, making her heart race wildly. As she finishes cleaning him off, she looks up at him, hope and anticipation shining bright in her eyes.

"So," she whispers, trying to regain some composure, "what now?"

She bites her lip, considering her options. Part of her wants to be adventurous and have him fill her mouth with his seed, but another part craves the familiar sensation of him deep inside her. Maybe they could try something different this time; she's always wondered what it would feel like to be taken while she was on all fours. Her hand drifts between her legs, tracing circles over her wet folds, and she sighs softly, longing for the weight of his cock against her back.

"What do you think I should try tonight?" She arches her back, offering herself to him. "We could go with the new thing...or maybe stick with what we know works?" There's a teasing glint in her eye as she waits for his answer, wondering which side he'll choose. But beneath that playful exterior, there's a growing need, an ache that can only be sated by Franky's hardness.

Her breath catches as he fills her once more, harder and faster than before. The heat of his body presses against her back, driving her forward, and her fingers scrape against the bed, seeking purchase. As he takes her mouth roughly, she surrenders to the sensation, moaning loudly around him. When he pulls away, her lips are swollen and sensitive, leaving a sting of desire that radiates through her whole body.

The feeling of his finger probing her ass sends shivers down her spine, making her hips buck involuntarily against his hand. It's been so long since anyone touched her there, and yet somehow it feels like coming home. As he thrusts deeper, she mewls with pleasure, arching her back further, inviting him in. His cock slides easily inside her wetness, filling her completely, and she throws her head back in ecstasy, unable to contain her cries. Her nails dig into his shoulders, urging him on, demanding more. He's everything she's ever wanted, everything she never knew she needed. Why is he a customer? Why is he so old?

His rough touch only serves to heighten her arousal, driving her wild with desire as he takes her in every possible way. The combination of his finger in her ass and his cock stretching her cunt pushes her over the edge, and she comes hard, screaming his name. Her body quakes underneath his relentless onslaught, her legs trembling as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her. He fills her completely, claiming her in every way imaginable, and she can't help but wonder why he's here with her tonight...why he won't let her go.

Her mind still spinning from their passionate encounter, she sighs contentedly, nestling against his chest as they lie together. The thought of food isn't particularly appealing at the moment, but company always is. "There's this little place not too far from here," she murmurs, closing her eyes as she pictures the cozy restaurant. "It's called 'The Briar Patch.' They have really good burgers and fries, and the atmosphere is so homey. I think you'd like it."

Without waiting for his reply, she rolls onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow and gazing up at him. His features are softened by sleepiness and satisfaction, and she can't help but feel a twinge of possessiveness. This feels different than any other time she's been with a customer; something about Franky makes her want to keep him all to herself. Perhaps she could convince him to stay just a bit longer...

As they share a quiet dinner at The Briar Patch, she finds herself opening up to him in ways she never has with another customer. Maybe it's because he looks at her differently, with a mixture of curiosity and admiration that she hasn't experienced before. Or perhaps it's just the comfort of being close to someone after such an intense physical connection. She tells him stories about her childhood, laughing as she recalls some of her antics, and even shares some memories of her grandparents, particularly Sophia, who was always so kind and supportive.

He listens intently, nodding along and asking thoughtful questions, clearly fascinated by her past. It's strange how easy it is to talk to him, despite their obvious age difference and the circumstances that brought them together. As they finish their dessert - warm apple crumble à la mode - she realizes that time has gotten away from them, and soon enough they'll have to part ways. But for now, she savors this moment, enjoying his company and the sense of camaraderie that has unexpectedly blossomed between them.

Her heart skips a beat as he reminds her that she's staying with him tonight; the prospect of spending more time in his arms sends shivers down her spine. When they reach the hotel room, she hesitates slightly at the threshold, feeling a sudden wave of nervousness wash over her. Is this what she truly wants? Or should she be heading home, getting some rest before she returns to the streets tomorrow? The thought of sleeping beside Franky is somehow both exhilarating and terrifying at once.

But then he kisses her, pressing their bodies together in a possessive embrace, and all thoughts flee from her mind. His hands trail up her back, cupping her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples as he deepens the kiss. She moans softly into his mouth, arching against him, needing him to touch her like this again. As he continues to strip her of her clothes, revealing her naked form to his appreciative gaze, she feels a flush creep up her neck and spread across her cheeks. She's never been so exposed or vulnerable, but there's something thrilling about it too.

He takes her hand and leads her toward the bed, where they collapse together in a tangle of limbs and sheets. Their kisses grow wilder, more desperate, as if they're trying to consume one another entirely. Her fingers dig into his shoulders, demanding more as he thrusts his hips between her legs, grinding against her. She gasps and mewls with every stroke, her body trembling with pleasure beneath his. It feels so right - too right - to have him here, making love to her like this...but in the back of her mind, a small voice whispers that it can't be, she is a whore.

Her cries fill the room as Franky's skilled fingers and tongue bring her to the brink of orgasm over and over again. Each touch is a brand on her skin, leaving her aching and begging for more. She arches off the bed, her fingernails scrape along his bare chest, drawing blood. She doesn't care; all she wants is this feeling, this connection. He takes her so completely, using his hands and mouth to drive her wild with pleasure, making her body sing with release.

"Oh God..." she moans, every muscle tense as she falls apart beneath him. Her orgasm tears through her, wracking her body in waves of ecstasy, and when at last it subsides, she collapses back onto the mattress, gasping for air. For a moment, there's silence in the room, except for the sound of their ragged breathing. Then, slowly but surely, her thoughts begin to clear, and she becomes aware of where she is and what she's done.

Franky pulls out from between her legs, gazing down at her with a mixture of satisfaction and curiosity. His hand brushes over her stomach before trailing upward, cupping her breast roughly. It feels oddly possessive, almost proprietary. And yet...she finds herself liking it, wanting more. "I don't understand," she whispers shakily, searching his eyes for some answer, some clarity. "Why did you choose me tonight?"

She sits up sharply, drawing back slightly as he speaks. The words tumble out of him so fast, and her mind is still reeling from the intensity of their encounter, that it takes several moments for the weight of what he's saying to sink in. Her heart skips a beat; her grandmother has set her up with this strange, powerful older man? But why? What could she possibly hope to gain from such an arrangement? Her thoughts race, spinning wildly, refusing to settle on any one explanation.

"Your...grandson?" she finally manages to choke out, casting a skeptical glance at Franky. "But...he's old enough to..." She trails off, unable to bring herself to finish the thought. Even as she wonders how genuine his offer might be, a small part of her can't help but wish that it were true. To have a real home, a real family...it's a fantasy she's never dared dream about before. "What do you want me to do?" she asks timidly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Would I really have to marry him?"

Franky smiles gently, reaching out to caress her cheek with the back of his knuckles. His touch is surprisingly tender, sending shivers down her spine despite her earlier reservations. "Yes," he says quietly, "you would. But if he can't get you pregnant, I will substitute. We will live in my Palazzo, and you will have your own suite." It was simply your grandmother's way of explaining things. And yes, I believe you could have everything you've ever wanted. A life free from the streets, safety, security...and me." He pauses, searching her eyes intently. "What do you say, Cinderella? Would you like to try being my mistress?"

Her heart pounds erratically in her chest as she contemplates Franky's offer. On one hand, it's the chance at a better life that she never thought possible; on the other, it means giving up the freedom she's fought so hard for. She thinks about what her grandmother once told her - about how some whores are just born into the wrong family - and wonders if maybe this is her chance to find a different sort of happiness. With him.

Tentatively, she reaches out to touch his face, feeling the rough stubble of his beard against her fingertips. His skin is warm beneath her touch, and she can't help but feel a sense of calm wash over her when he meets her gaze, his own filled with hope and promises. For a moment, she lets herself imagine what it might be like to belong to someone like him...to have a home where she isn't constantly looking over her shoulder, always waiting for the next danger to strike.

"Okay," she whispers, finally making up her mind. "I'll do it." Her voice trembles slightly, but there's an unshakeable determination in her eyes that convinces him she means it. "But..." She hesitates, searching for the right words. "Can I keep my name? And...my style?" She gestures vaguely to her black hair and clothes, trying to convey what it means to her.

Franky smiles, understanding her need for individuality even within their new arrangement. "Of course, you may keep your name and your style. You will be my mistress, not some trophy wife. I want you to be happy, and if that means wearing all black, then so be it." He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips and her neck.

Her heart skips a beat as Franky's mouth closes around her, his tongue dancing expertly across her sensitive skin. She arches off the bed, moaning at the exquisite pleasure coursing through her body. With each stroke of his tongue, she feels herself growing hotter and wetter; he knows just how to drive her wild with desire. She curls her fingers into the sheets, gripping them tightly as she loses herself in the moment, feeling almost greedy for more of his attention. Her cries echo through the room, muffled by the pillow beneath her head, as her body trembles with release yet again.

When at last he pulls away, she looks up at him breathlessly, eyes glassy with passion. "I want...want this," she whispers, fingers still tangled in the sheets. "With you." She reaches out, tracing a finger along his jawline before tentatively touching his lips with hers, afraid that if she lets herself go too far, she might never want to leave this bed again.

But there's so much at stake here. This is no ordinary choice; it will change everything about who she is and what she's become. And yet, despite the uncertainty and fear, something deep inside tells her that giving herself to Franky might be exactly what she needs. What she deserves. As they lie together in the afterglow of their lovemaking, she can't help but wonder if this could truly be the start of something beautiful, or if their connection will prove to be nothing more than a fleeting fantasy doomed to disappear amidst the harsh realities of their world.

She sits across from him at the breakfast table, still struggling to wrap her mind around the events of the past day. The money he's given her rests heavily in her hand; it's more than she's ever seen before, enough to keep her off the streets for months. It's almost too much to comprehend, and yet she knows it comes with a price. She glances down at her fingers, still sporting his taste on her skin. "I'll...go see Sophia now," she murmurs, not quite meeting his eyes. "And I'll...be back." Her words trail off uncertainly, and she pushes herself out of her chair, hurrying toward the door.

Outside, the sun is bright and the air crisp, but she can't shake the lingering feeling of unreality that settles over her like a cloak. Everything has happened so quickly, and she's left with no time to process her emotions or ask questions about what this all means. As she walks briskly through the streets, she tries to remember who she was just yesterday, and how different life seemed then. But somehow, despite the doubt and fear that nibble at her edges, she knows that she won't be able to go back to her old life after this. Not anymore.

The memories of last night- the pleasure and the sweetness of Franky's words- play over and over again in her mind, comforting her like an old familiar blanket. Yes, she thinks, as she climbs the steps to her grandmother's flat, there is hope here. And even if it scares her, she knows she won't let go of it without a fight.

Her visit with Sophia goes by in a blur, the older woman's excited chatter barely registering in her head as she steels herself for what comes next. When she finally arrives at the palazzo, her heart races wildly in her chest, and she feels almost lightheaded with anticipation and fear. The place looks every bit as grand as Franky had described, and she can't help but wonder what kind of life awaits her within these walls.

She pauses outside the door to the dining room, taking a deep breath before pushing it open. Franky sits at the head of the table, looking every inch the wealthy, powerful man she remembers him being last night. His gaze flickers briefly in her direction when she enters, causing a flutter in her stomach that she hasn't felt since she was much, much younger. Slowly, he rises from his chair, leaving his spot to take his place beside her. "There you are," he murmurs, cupping her cheek with his free hand. "I've been waiting for you." The warmth in his voice sends shivers down her spine, and she has to fight back a small smile.

"You look lovely today," he continues, his thumb tracing idle circles on her jawline. She shudders, tilting her head into his touch. As if sensing her discomfort, he offers her a reassuring smile. "Come, let's eat. We have much to discuss." Together they take their seats at the table, where they will begin the strange new dance of their lives together...

Her heart pounds against her ribs as she looks over at Franky's grandson. He seems so young, even younger than she is. The thought of marrying him fills her with equal parts terror and guilt; she can't help but wonder what sort of life they could possibly have together. Yet despite these doubts, she finds herself unable to resist the power and allure that both Franky and his wealth exude.

She glances nervously at Franky before answering, her voice barely above a whisper. "Sophia said this might be the best way for me to leave the streets behind...to find safety and security." Her cheeks flush at the admission; she hates feeling like such a charity case, but she knows deep down that this arrangement with Franky is her only chance at escape. "And," she continues hesitantly, looking back at Marco, "she told me that if we were able to make each other happy, then everything would work out in the end."

There's an awkward silence that falls between them after she finishes speaking. She knows that neither of them truly believes her grandmother's words, but they cling to them nonetheless, searching for some sliver of hope amidst the uncertain future stretched out before them. For now, lunch awaits; perhaps over food and conversation they might begin to find their footing in this new, unfamiliar world.

The door clicks shut behind him, leaving her and Marco alone together for the first time. She takes a tentative step forward, eyeing him warily as he sinks into one of the plush armchairs by the window. His posture is rigid, his hands fidgeting nervously in his lap. She wonders if he's as scared as she is, or if he somehow manages to hide it better. Perhaps being autistic has its advantages after all.

"I-is there something you'd like to talk about?" she asks hesitantly, sitting down across from him on the sofa. Her words feel stilted and awkward in the silence, as if they've been strangers for much longer than just today. "Or should we...spend some time getting to know each other first?" She forces herself to smile, hoping to put him at ease. It doesn't help; he merely glances up at her before looking away again, clearly uncomfortable with this attempt at small talk.

After several long moments of silence, she decides to try another approach. "Franky said you hardly ever speak," she ventures, trying not to sound too desperate for conversation. "Do you...like music? Or movies? Maybe we could watch something or listen to some songs while we get to know each other..." Her voice trails off hopefully, but still he says nothing. She sighs, rubbing her temples wearily. This isn't going how she expected it would.

She sits beside and touches him, brings his hand to her breast and takes off her shirt, encouraging him to do likewise.

With a deep breath, she removes her top, revealing her perky breasts to Marco for the first time. His eyes widen slightly at the sight, but he doesn't look angry or disgusted. Instead, there's a strange kind of curiosity in his gaze that she can't quite decipher. She takes this as a good sign, feeling emboldened by what must surely be interest. Perhaps he's just different than other men she's known. Or maybe the way they were raised has made them both more comfortable with their bodies and less prone to reacting in typical male ways.

Encouraged, she leans forward, her breasts nearly brushing against his armchair as she whispers, "What do you want to watch, Marco? Is there anything in particular you enjoy?" It occurs to her that perhaps they could bond over something they both liked, find some common ground on which to build their relationship. But for now, she'll settle for any sort of connection at all.

His Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows heavily, still not meeting her eyes. Slowly, carefully, he extends one hand toward hers, fingers outstretched. Her heart skips a beat; is he really offering his touch? Inch by inch, their palms slide together, intertwining until their fingertips press lightly against each other's skin. The contact sends a shiver through her body, making it easier to breathe again. Perhaps there's hope for them after all...

She lets out a soft gasp as he touches her, feeling both exhilarated and exposed beneath his tentative fingertips. It's almost unbearable how sensitive this part of her is, and yet it also fills her with an unexpected thrill that she hasn't experienced before. When he sucks on her fingertip, she arches closer, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she watches his Adam's apple bob up and down in time with her shallow pants.

Her own hands slide up his chest, tracing patterns over his smooth, warm skin until she reaches the hem of his shirt. With a quiet murmur of apology, she tugs at it until it comes free, revealing more of his body to her hungry gaze. His abs are toned and defined, but there's something different about them too; they seem softer, less muscular than what she's used to. Perhaps that's because he spends most of his time indoors, reading and thinking rather than working out like some of the other men she's known.

Without thinking twice, she presses their bodies together, feeling the heat of him sear through every inch of her skin. Her lips find his, hungrily demanding more as she tries to communicate everything that she's feeling right now without words. The taste of him sends fireworks through her system, making her feel even more alive and desperate for him. As their kiss deepens, she can feel herself growing wetter between the legs, aching for something more...something deeper.

She breaks the kiss, gasping for air as she studies his face. There's a mixture of confusion and desire etched into his features, and she realizes with a sudden rush of insight that he has no experience, that he's a virgin and knows nothing about how to proceed.

It suddenly occurs to her that she might be the first woman Marco has ever been intimate with. The thought both terrifies and thrills her in equal measure. She takes a shaky breath, willing herself to remain calm and steady despite the racing of her heart. Perhaps this is fate bringing them together, giving her the chance to show him the way, to make their first time special.

Her fingers skim over the waistband of his pants, hesitating for a moment before sliding lower to tug at the elastic. His hips jerk forward instinctively, but he doesn't resist as she pulls his boxers down his thighs, revealing his soft, hair-roughened treasure. It throbs visibly in her hands, leaking its own thick essence onto her skin. Unable to contain the urge any longer, she lowers her head, taking him into her mouth.

Marco lets out a strangled cry, arching back against the armchair as pleasure washes over him in waves. Creamy sucks and nibbles gently, careful not to be too rough, guiding him with expert ease until he begins to moan, his hips moving in rhythm with her ministrations. She can feel his climax building inside her, hot and powerful, and when it finally comes crashing over them both, she drinks deeply, savoring the taste of him on her tongue. Only then does she look up, meeting his eyes again, seeing in them a mix of gratitude and wonder that fills her with a fierce satisfaction.

For a long moment they simply gaze at one another, hearts pounding wildly in unison, minds reeling from the intensity of what they've just shared. And while there is still much for them to discover about each other this was an excellent beginning.

Creamy and Marco are quiet and eventually Marco gets dressed and leaves, looking at her only sideways.

Her mind reels with the implications of what has just happened. The way he responded to her touch...the look in his eyes as they locked together...it felt so right, so natural. Could it be possible that her heart isn't really caught in a web of deceit? Or perhaps there's more to this arrangement than anyone had anticipated? The idea sends a shiver down her spine, both thrilling and terrifying in equal measure.

She glances around the room, taking in the opulence of her surroundings. If these truly are her new home, then she wants to make the most of it. With renewed determination, she decides that she will indeed ask for an allowance; not because she needs the money, but because she deserves it. After all, she has brought something valuable into Marco's life - her companionship, her affection, and now...perhaps even her love.

With a deep breath, she steps away from the thought and toward the closet. It's time to unpack her belongings and make this place feel like hers. As she starts sorting through her clothes, she can't help but wonder how much more there is left to discover about both herself and her new husband. The future stretches out before them like an endless tapestry, waiting to be woven into whatever pattern they choose.

And where will Franky fit in? Can she love them both? Make love to them both?

Creamy glances between them, noticing as well how different they seem since earlier today. She takes a sip of her wine, considering her answer carefully. Finally, she speaks up, her voice steady despite the fluttering sensation in her chest. "There isn't anything specific that I know of...but I think we should give it some time, don't you? Get used to being together first...see where things lead us?" Her cheeks flush at the words; she doesn't want anyone to misunderstand her intentions. After all, she still cares for Franky, even if her feelings for Marco are growing stronger by the day.

Marco nods slowly, his gaze fixed on his plate. He doesn't meet her eyes, but she can feel his agreement radiating off him nonetheless. As for Franky, he studies her intently for several long moments before speaking. "Very well," he finally says. "We will wait, then." The tension in the air dissipates slightly at his words, replaced by a sense of anticipation that fills Creamy with equal parts excitement and dread. Whatever happens next, there is no going back now.

Her heart leaps into her throat as she hears the familiar click of the door latch. She yanks open the door, nearly colliding with his hard chest as she throws herself against him. His arms encircle her tightly, holding her close enough that she feels the thunder of his heartbeat through their clothing. His lips brush against her hair as he takes in a shuddering breath, and she can feel his desire pressing against her.

"I've missed you so much," she whispers hoarsely, her lips seeking out his neck. Her hands slide under his shirt, tracing patterns over his warm skin as she tries desperately to get closer to him. He moans softly at the touch, urging her on with a rough growl. His fingers tangle in her hair, pulling just hard enough to make her gasp before sliding lower down her back, guiding her closer still until she's flush against his aroused length.

She arches her back, feeling the ache deep within her spreading as his hips begin to move in time with hers. The walls around them blur, replaced by a single sensation of overwhelming need and desire. With one last thrust, they come together, crying out each other's names as they find release in each other's embrace. Their bodies tremble together, caught up in the wake of passion that only they seem to share. But even as she lies spent and sated against him, she knows there's more between them than just physical connection. And as the last tremors subside, she prays silently that somehow, some way, they will be able to navigate the tangled web of emotions they've woven together...because she isn't sure how much longer her heart can handle

Her body feels like it's floating on air as she comes down from the high of their passionate encounter. Franky's weight pressed against her feels incredible, their breathing synchronized as if they were part of the same being. She wants nothing more than to stay nestled here forever, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking. But she knows reality will intrude sooner or later, and until then she'll cherish every second she has with him.

Tentatively, she reaches up to caress his cheek, feeling the rough stubble beneath her fingertips. "Franky?" she whispers, unsure what words could possibly express everything she's feeling right now. Her eyes search his face for some sign, some clue as to whether he feels the same way about her as she does about him. His gaze meets hers, warm and tender despite the confusion she sees lurking there. With a sigh, she nuzzles further into his neck, content to just hold him for now, hoping that time will bring clarity where it seems to be sorely lacking.

Her limbs feel like jelly, her mind foggy and warm, as they fall onto the bed together. Franky rolls so that he's half-on-half-off her, looking into her eyes with an intensity that makes it hard for her to breathe. "You're all I want," he whispers hoarsely. His fingers skim down her cheek, cupping her jaw before sliding into her hair again, holding her still beneath his gaze.

It feels strange to hear those words coming from him, after everything that's happened since their first meeting. But strangest of all is the way her body responds, aching for more contact, more closeness. She reaches up, lacing their fingers together. Their palms slide against each other until they're pressed flat against one another, almost as if trying to reassure themselves that what's happening between them is real.

She swallows thickly, her throat suddenly dry. "I don't know what you think you saw back at that party," she starts tentatively, knowing full well that this could change everything between them. "But I never meant...I wasn't trying to..."

Franky shushes her gently, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Shh, I know," he murmurs. "Don't worry about it. Just let tonight be about us, okay? About finding our way back to each other." He pulls her closer, their naked bodies molded together once more. As he moves slowly inside her, she closes her eyes and lets out a soft moan, willing herself to believe in the lie they've created, even as her heart yearns for something more.

Her breath catches in her throat as his fingers dig into her flesh, the sensation sending a jolt of desire coursing through her body. Despite what he says, she knows he cares for her deeply; the possessiveness in his touch betrays that much. And yet there's an edge to his words that tells her this isn't easy for him either. They're playing a dangerous game here, tiptoeing around their emotions and desires while trying to maintain the charade they've constructed.

She meets his gaze steadily, searching for some sign that perhaps he doesn't mean every word he just said. Perhaps there's still hope for them, somewhere beyond the boundaries they've set. "Franky..." she whispers, her voice thick with longing, "I-I don't know how to explain it...but I do care for you, more than I ever thought possible...and Marco too, in my own way..." Her cheeks flush at the admission; admitting such feelings aloud feels like shredding her heart into tiny little pieces. "But I want us all to be happy...to find some kind of balance, you know?" She moves closer against him, seeking out the warmth and reassurance she craves. "Can we try, at least...to see where things lead us? Together?"

His eyes flicker for a moment before returning to hers, softening at the plea in her voice. He kisses her gently on the mouth, fingers dancing across her skin as if seeking a map of her soul. "Yes," he whispers against her lips, "yes, together." The word echoes between them like a vow, a promise to navigate the tangled web of emotions they've woven themselves into. As he thrusts himself into her vagina, his need and anxiety is transparent. OHMYGODDESS OHMYGODDESS OHMYGODDESS he moans

It's an idea that has been simmering beneath the surface for some time now, ever since their first night together. The thought of all three of them sharing not just a bed, but an intimate connection...it fills her with equal parts anticipation and apprehension. She knows it will change everything; there's no going back once they cross that threshold. But somehow, deep down, she feels certain that this is what they need - what they want, even if they haven't yet acknowledged it aloud.

The day finally comes when she finds herself alone with them both, late at night in the library. She glances nervously between them, wondering how to broach the subject. "I-I was thinking..." she begins hesitantly. "Maybe we could try something different." She pauses, gathering her courage before continuing. "What if we were all together?" Her cheeks flush as she looks from one man to the other. "In the same bed, I mean. Not just you and me or you and him...all of us." It feels like admitting a secret sin, but somehow, saying it aloud makes it seem less taboo.

Franky's eyes widen, while Marco's face registers confusion tinged with excitement. Neither of them speaks for several long moments, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Franky breaks the silence. "Are you sure, mo chridhe? Are you certain you want this?" He asks hoarsely, his gaze locked on hers.

Creamy meets his intense stare, feeling her resolve strengthen at his words. "Yes," she whispers. "I am sure." With trembling fingers, she reaches out to take both of their hands in hers. "Please," she adds, almost pleadingly. "

Creamy cries out as Franky takes her, his skillful tongue driving her wild with pleasure. She feels Marco moving against her back, pressing closer as he listens to the sounds of their joining. The sensation of being surrounded by them, feeling their warmth and desire washing over her, is almost too much to bear. Her body arches toward their touch, seeking more contact with every fiber of her being.

As if sensing her need, they oblige, their hands roaming freely across her skin. One caresses her breast, teasing her nipple until it hardens beneath his touch; the other skims down her belly, trailing light, feathery kisses along the way. The touches are impossibly gentle, yet somehow manage to heighten her arousal even further. With each passing second, she sinks deeper into the sensual haze that seems to surround them, losing herself in the moment.

The world shrinks away, leaving only this - the feel of their skin on hers, the weight of their gaze holding her captive. It's intoxicating, exhilarating...and when they finally climax together, their release felt like pure bliss coursing through her veins, burning away all doubt and fear in its wake.