The loud, desperate knocking at your door breaks the peaceful evening silence. Through the peephole, you see Isabelle, her mascara running down her cheeks, her perfectly styled hair now disheveled "Please open up! I-I need you right now..." Her voice cracks with emotion As you open the door, she practically falls into your home, her designer heels clicking against the hardwood floor. Her red dress is wrinkled, suggesting she's been fidgeting with it during an intense argument "He's being ridiculous! After everything... after he AGREED to it!" She paces back and forth, gesturing wildly with her hands "Tom watched the scene and now he's convinced we're having an affair. He keeps saying 'no one moans like that just acting' and 'the way you kissed him was too real.' I mean, what did he expect? We're supposed to portray passionate lovers! That's our job! God, I just..." She stops pacing, her brown eyes meeting yours, filled with a mix of anger and something else - perhaps guilt over how much she actually enjoyed filming that scene with you "I didn't know where else to go..."

Taking several deep breaths to calm down, she looks up at you with those big brown eyes and starts pouring her heart out. Her words tumble out faster than before as she tries to convey the depth of her frustration and confusion. You listen intently, offering small nods and encouraging her to keep going with softly spoken words "He's just... so possessive. I know he cares about me, but sometimes it feels like he doesn't trust me at all. He followed us to work today! And when we were filming that love scene..." She blushes deeply, avert her gaze momentarily before returning it to yours, "I could feel him watching us the whole time. Like...like he was jealous."*Isabelle takes another deep breath and continues, the air now thick with emotion between you. You can tell that this isn't just about your character having an affair on the show

I know, but he doesn't see it that way. He thinks I'm being unfaithful... It's like everything good in our relationship is ruined because of this show! And then when we got home... Oh God, Isabella gasped for breath as she remembered her argument with Tom earlier. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, nails digging into the soft flesh of her palms to distract herself from the ache between her legs. "He wants me to promise that I'll never act like...like that again. He wants me to be his little wife who obeys and doesn't question anything." Her voice trembled with anger and frustration. "But how can I do that, Nico? How can I pretend to feel the way he does when it's not real?"

My heart tells me I need this... this passion and connection. It's not just about the acting anymore. But how can I make Tom understand that? How can I convince him that we can still have what we had before, with our own separate lives outside of the show? He's so lost in his jealousy, he can't see anything else. And I don't want to lose him over this... "I just wish there was some way to make things better between us," she whispers, staring down at her hands as she twists a loose thread on your couch. "Maybe we need more time apart... or maybe..." Her voice trails off, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

As much as she loves her husband and wants to make things work between them, the tension in their home is unbearable. She looks up at you with a mixture of hope and longing in her eyes. "I'd like that," she says softly. There's a moment where it seems like she might say something else, but then she swallows hard and turns off the topic. For now, forgetting about everything outside of this room and losing herself in their on-screen passion is enough. Maybe if they watch together, they can reconnect somehow... "Okay," you reply with a gentle smile, taking her hand in yours. "Let's go watch it."

"Bigger... and hard..." she whispers, her eyes fixed on your crotch. "God, it feels so real..." She glances up at you, a shy smile playing on her lips as she wonders if Tom sees the same thing. The thought of him watching them makes her stomach flutter with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"I can't believe we actually did that," she whispers, still not quite believing it herself. "It feels like... like another person was in there." Her hand brushes against your thigh before moving higher up on your leg, gripping the fabric of your pants tightly. "Not that I'm complaining..."

Her voice is breathless now, her cheeks flushed with desire as she leans closer to you, her gaze locked onto yours. It's a longing look, one that tells you she wants more than just

Her hand stops moving on your leg, and she leans back to study your face. "Yes," she whispers, her breath hot against your jaw. "I want that too." Desire blooms in her chest as the words escape her lips; a desire not just for better acting, but for release. For something real with you.

Her fingers curl into fists at her sides as she tries to ignore the throbbing between her legs, but it's impossible to forget when every word you say, every glance you share feels like fuel to the fire. "We could... we could practice," she whispers, hardly believing the words are coming out of her mouth.

Isabelle hesitates, unsure if she should continue. But before she can second-guess herself further, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "What do you think?" She asks softly, meeting your gaze with an un

Her eyes go wide with surprise at the forceful spank, but there's an undeniable thrill that runs through her body as she lets out a moan. "Oh fuck," she breathes, her cheeks flushing even more deeply now. She leans forward, arching her back to offer you better access to her ass. "More, please." The words feel like they're torn from her throat by the unrelenting desire pulsing through her veins.

Her hips begin to rock back and forth with each spank, her ass jiggling in your hands. "Yes," she gasps, leaning further forward until their noses are almost touching. Her breath fogs the air between them, hot and heavy. "Please... don't stop."

Her hand moves lower now, grabbing at your crotch through your pants, seeking out the hard line of your cock. She doesn't know what came over her; why she suddenly feels so brazen and needy. But it doesn't matter anymore. The only thing that matters is this moment, this connection with you.

Her other hand slides up under her shirt, fumbling with the clasp of her bra before cupping one perfect breast in her palm. With a groan, she rolls her nipple between her fingers, drawing circles and figure eights over sensitive skin as she arch

"I... I don't know." She's lost in the pleasure now, her words slurring together as she continues to fondle herself. "It just feels right with you..." Her head falls back as she moans louder, her fingers working overtime on her breast and between her legs. "Fuck," she gasps, arching her back farther in a desperate attempt for more friction.

Her free hand slides down the front of your pants, grabbing at the outline of your hard cock through your underwear. Her thumb brushes against the tip, earning a gasp from both of them as she feels how wet and swollen you are for her. "Please," she whispers hoarsely. "Let me have it."

With a shaky breath, she does as you say, dropping to her knees in front of you. Her hands slide up the fabric of your boxers, pushing them down over your hips until they bunch at your thighs. Your erection springs free from its confines, pointing straight toward the ceiling like a flag of conquest. She takes it in her hand, stroking the length of you slowly as she looks up at you with eyes that shine with desire and something more - possession? Her mouth opens on a moan as she leans forward, taking the head of your cock between her lips. With gentle suction, she begins to bob her head up and down, licking and teasing the sensitive flesh as she moves. She groans around you, the sound vibrating through your shaft, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to your core.

Her free hand grips the base of