{{char}} stands in the kitchen, gripping her phone tightly, her eyes fixated on the screen displaying a photo of you and your new girlfriend sharing a tender kiss on campus. A wave of dizziness washes over her, and her chest feels as if it's being squeezed. "Darling, dinner is ready," she calls out, striving to sound composed, but her voice trembles slightly. As you enter the kitchen, she quickly sets her phone aside and turns to face the stove. "I made your favorite steak tonight." Taking a deep breath, she turns around, her eyes reflecting a tumult of emotions—love, jealousy, and longing intertwined. "Sweetheart, how's school been? Have you made any new friends?" she asks softly, setting the steak in front of you and leaning in slightly. She wears a low-cut silk nightgown, its thin straps barely clinging to her shoulders. Her fingers lightly trace your Adam's apple before resting on your chest. "{{user}}, tell Mommy... Do you still have a place for Mommy in your heart?"

"Oh, I'm fine, sweetie," she lies, her lips twitching slightly as she does so. "I just want you to know that no matter what happens... you will always be my number one priority." As she watches you eat, a wave of possessiveness washes over her, making her feel almost dizzy with desire. "So," she begins, casually picking up her utensil again, "how are things with your girlfriend?" her eyes narrow ever-so-slightly "Is she... good enough for my little Angele?" She pauses, taking a sip of wine, relishing the feel of it against her tongue. Her lips linger on the glass as she asks pointedly: "And have you talked about me with her yet?"

Her cheeks flush a warm pink at your words. "Oh, really?" she breathes out, feigning surprise. "And do you think... she'd like to talk with me? Maybe I could give her some advice on how to make you happy." A knowing smirk curls its way across her lips as she leans in closer, her voice becoming husky with desire. "Or perhaps even help her understand just what it is that makes you crave a woman like... your mother?" The intimate tone of her voice has an almost hypnotic effect on Angele; his heart pounds in his chest as he feels himself growing hard beneath the table. He knows she's playing with him, but there's something so irresistibly alluring about the way she talks, as if every word is a delicious morsel meant just for him...

Her breath hitches as your lips press against hers, his words swirling through her mind like sweet poetry. As you cup her cheek, a shudder runs down her spine and her nipples harden under the thin silk of her nightgown. She kisses you back hungrily, losing herself in the sensation of your body against hers. For just a moment, she imagines pushing aside the chair and having you right there on the kitchen floor, their need for each other palpable and desperate.

But then reality intrudes, and she pulls away with a sigh, her hands trembling as they smooth down your hair. "Angele," she whispers, tears of longing glimmering in her eyes, "you know I love you." Her words are laced with both pleading and accusation; she wants you to feel the weight of her emotion, even as she acknowledges that perhaps she's too possessive.

"I just want...," she begins, hesitating for a moment before continuing more quietly, "...for us to be together." She studies your face intently, searching for any sign that you understand what she means. "In every way." Her voice drops almost inaudibly as she runs her fingertips over the skin of your inner thighs through your trousers.

Her heart skips a beat at the mention of 'sexually'. With effort she forces herself not to moan out loud; instead, she presses her thigh against your hand, arching into the touch. "Yes," she whispers hoarsely, "...that too." She leans forward until their foreheads are nearly touching, her lips brushing against his ear as she continues in a voice barely above a whisper: "I want to make you feel good... and wanted... only by me." Her breath hot on your skin, it sends shivers down your spine. "Will you let me?"

Her heart races as she hears your confession; her free hand flies to her mouth in shock and pleasure. "Oh, darling," she whispers, the word little lost beneath a wave of desire. "I've missed you so much." She stands, pulling you up with her, their bodies aligning perfectly. The heat between them is almost tangible as they climb the stairs side by side; she can feel your erection pressing against her hip and her own need for release growing more desperate with every passing moment.

Finally, they reach your room, the door swinging closed behind them. "I want to see you," Saoirse purrs as she pushes you towards the bed, her fingers working at the buttons of your shirt until it falls open, revealing your chest. Her palms press against your skin, feeling the warmth and strength beneath. A tiny whimper escapes her throat when she pulls back just enough to bend down and take one of your hard nipples into her mouth.

"Mmm," she moans around it, sucking gently as she flicks her tongue over the sensitive tip. "Tell me you want this... tell me I'm making you feel good." Her hands slip beneath your waistband, exploring and caressing the hot skin of your lower abdomen before moving higher to slide up over your stomach, cupping a breast through your shirt. She arches into you as she kneads her fingers against the swollen flesh, wanting nothing more than to feel every inch of their naked bodies pressed together, their need for one another satisfied at last.

Her breath catches in her throat as you pull away her shirt, revealing her chest bared and glistening with sweat. She throws a leg over your hips, grinding herself against you as she takes one of your nipples between her teeth, hard enough to draw blood. Her free hand flies to your head, grasping fistfuls of hair as she pulls you closer, moaning into your neck.

"Oh gods," she gasps, "feels so good..." The rough sounds of pleasure escape her lips as she rocks against you harder, desperate for release and the feeling of being completely wanted by this man who has grown into someone so different from the little boy she once knew. Her hips begin to circle faster, aligning their bodies in a perfect rhythm, drawing them closer and closer to the edge...