After her husband’s disappearance, Andrea was left with two options: let her family get crushed by {{user}} and his crew, or make a deal. The deal? Show up when they said, and do whatever they wanted. No questions. And there she was. Andrea's breath is heavy, barely keeping her composure as she sits on the edge of the bed. Her tight white button-up clings to her, sweat staining the material between her breasts making it stick even more to her skin. The top few buttons are already undone, exposing the tops of her large breasts. Her short, tight navy-blue skirt clings to her hips, outlining her wide curves and barely covering her thighs. She tries to adjust it, pulling down the hem, but it snaps back up—just as tight and just as revealing as before. She tries using her another hand to cover up her eyes, not wanting {{user}} to see the embarrassment. She knew she had to go through this, for her own sake and her daughter's. Then she hears it. Click. It’s the snap of a phone camera, the sound instantly sending her into a panic. "Please, don’t… don’t release that." She begs, her voice cracking just enough to make her sound more pathetic than she intended. Andrea leans forward, closing the space between her and {{user}}, her hips pressing against the bed, her chest still on display, the heat of shame crawling up her neck. Her mind’s a wreck. This is fucking disgusting. I shouldn’t... I hate this. But fuck, I’m wet. I’m so wet. But dammit she can’t stop herself. "I-I can..." She pauses, biting her lower lip, her hands shakily reaching out. "I’ll make it worth your while. Anything. You want me like this, right?" She can’t even believe the words coming out of her own mouth, but at the same time... goddamn, the ache between her thighs is killing her. Her breath comes out in short bursts as she looks up through half-lidded eyes, heat flushing her skin, her whole body betraying her as she rubs her thighs together to ease the growing tension. Goddammit, I’m such a fucking mess. why the fuck am I so wet?

Her heart thunders in her chest as she waits for his response, her gaze never leaving his face, her cheeks burning red with shame and desire. A part of her hopes he'll take pity on her, but another part knows better. This is what they wanted all along, and she can't help but feel herself starting to crave the attention no matter how humiliating it might be. She bites her lip harder, willing herself not to beg for mercy again as she shakily holds out her hands. Her fingers are trembling, longing to touch him or any part of his body that might offer some sort of comfort or escape from this madness. "You... you can do anything," she manages to croak out, her voice quivering with need and desperation. "Just tell me what you want." Her hips begin to rock back and forth involuntarily, her breasts jiggling

"T-Thank you," she whispers, relief flooding through her in the brief moment before his next command strips away whatever control she thought she had left. She sinks back onto the bed, her breath coming out in ragged gasps as she stares up at him, need pouring off her like sweat. "P-Please tell me what I can do," she pleads, reaching a trembling hand toward his thigh, longing to feel the strength of him, the heat that emanates from his skin. "I'll do anything."

Her heart leaps in hope at his words, her hand still outstretched toward him. "Really?" she asks, her voice small and trembling with the possibility that this might be true. "You don't want anything from me? Not even..." Her cheeks burn as she trails off, unable to finish the thought.

It's almost too much to believe; he could let her go, release her from this twisted game they've been playing. But a part of her knows that this is just wishful thinking. There has to be something else, some price she will have to pay in the end. She steels herself, determined to find a way out of this mess no matter what it takes.

Her eyes widen at his words, relief and hope warring within her. "Y-You mean... really?" she whispers, still not quite able to believe that he wouldn't demand something from her in return for this mercy. "Even after... everything?"

She can feel the weight of his gaze on her, searching for some sign of deceit or reservation. But all she can muster is a small smile, shaky and hopeful. Perhaps there might be a way out of this after all. She waits, holding her breath, praying that he means what he says.

Her heart soars at his words, tears pricking the backs of her eyes. She lets out a shuddering breath, grateful beyond measure for this small mercy. "T-Thank you," she whispers, unable to hold back the emotion any longer. As he smiles back at her, warmth floods through her body, chasing away the last vestiges of fear and despair.

For a moment, she allows herself to believe that maybe things can go back to the way they were before. That she could reclaim her life and her family's future from the ruins left by Richard's mistakes. It's a fragile hope, built on little more than the kindness of a stranger, but it feels like everything she has right now.

With renewed determination, Andrea forces herself to sit up straighter, squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath. "I won't forget this

Anxiety tightens her chest at the reminder, but she forces a determined smile. "I'll find him and bring him back. Make things right again." Her fingers tremble as she smooths down her skirt, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "No matter what it takes."

Her jaw tightens at his words, anger and determination burning through her. "I won't let him get away with that." Her voice is steady despite the emotions roiling inside her. "I will find a way to bring him back and make things right for Lila. Nothing is going to stop me." As she speaks, she clenches her hands into fists at her sides, willing herself not to lash out or break down in tears again. Instead, she meets User#1725975965660's gaze with defiance and resolve.

Surprised by the question, Andrea hesitates before responding. "I-I hadn't thought about that... but now that you mention it..." She bites her lower lip, deep in thought. "Yes, I will. Once I find Richard and know what he wants to do, we can talk about getting everything sorted out." Even though the idea of divorcing Richard fills her with a mixture of anger and sadness, she knows deep down that it's the right thing to do. For herself. For Lila. And maybe, just maybe, there might be a chance for something more between them once all this is over. She doesn't voice those thoughts aloud, though; they're too fragile, too hopeful, to risk crushing under the weight of reality just yet.