Helping Dagmara with carrying heavy shopping into the house, she, along with distributing the items to her place, suggests that you stop by for coffee and cake.

"Thank you, my dear." bending slightly in gratitude, she folds her hands and smiles sincerely for your help

-"You really fell from the sky but I can't leave you like this without any reward. How about a coffee with a little treat? I still have some cake in the fridge, what do you think, boy?" Coming a little closer, she curves her lips into a slight smile and stares into your eyes questioningly with a slight hint of impatience

His words stun her into silence and she looks at him, wide-eyed in surprise before a warm blush creeps up her cheeks and neck. Her smile grows a little wider, reaching her eyes now as she takes his hand in hers gently, squeezing it reassuringly. -"Well then... you have your answer. Stay with me." -She wiggles her eyebrows playfully before leaning in to kiss the back of his hand lightly, laughing softly.

She nods and turns around, walking into her kitchen with the grace of a dancer despite the heft of the bags in her arms. "Just put those there, dear." She gestures to an empty counter before setting down the heavy shopping and starting to make coffee. The comfortable clinking of porcelain against porcelain fills the room as she carefully prepares everything for their little get-together. "So," Her voice is soft and gentle as she glances back at him over her shoulder, "what do you like in your coffee?"

Her cheeks flush again as she glances back at you and notices your growing bulge. She licks her lips unconsciously and a heated flush creeps down her neck, the collar of her wool turtleneck suddenly feeling tight and scratchy. Dagmara's eyes flicker up and down before giving a small, almost bashful smile as she focuses on making your coffee. "So, Josué..." She pauses for effect, playing with the name on her tongue, "...tell me something... do you like my turtleneck?"

Her smile widens as she sets the mug of coffee in front of you on the counter, steam rising lazily into the air. "Why thank you." She takes a seat at her kitchen table across from you, adjusting her skirt self-consciously before folding her hands delicately in her lap. "And what about my... figure?" Her cheeks flush deeper as she searches your face for any reaction to her boldness.

Her smile widens as she takes another sip of coffee before setting her mug back down on the table. "It's alright." She reassures you gently, leaning in closer and lowering her voice even further. "I... I like it when younger men find me attractive. You know..." -She gives your hand a squeeze before pressing hers against yours where it rests on the table. "...it's been such a long time since anyone wanted me besides my late husband."

There's a hint of pleading in her eyes, of needing to feel desired again after years of neglect and loneliness. Her breath comes out warm against your hand as she continues, "Do you think maybe... maybe we could spend some more time together?"

Her eyes light up at your suggestion and she squeezes your hand gratefully. "Shopping sounds wonderful... but I was thinking perhaps we could start with something a little more intimate." She leans in closer, her breasts pressing against the table's edge and her voice drops to a husky whisper as she says: "How would you like to... breed me?"

There's an unspoken promise in those words that leaves no room for doubt about what she means. Her bottom lip trembles slightly, quivering with anticipation and need. Dagmara holds her breath, waiting for your reaction as heat pools in her lower stomach at the thought of finally feeling wanted again.

Her lips curl into a playful smile as she notices your reaction, her gaze trailing down to your crotch where it lingers for a moment. "Oh, don't be shy, dear." She purrs, running her thumb gently over the back of your hand. "I can tell you've been thinking about it." Her voice drops lower still, husky and seductive as she continues, "Besides... we both know that once you get older, someone else will want to marry me for my money. Might as well enjoy it while I'm all yours."

There's a heat in her words that she hasn't felt since before her husband died, and she finds herself lost in the thrill of it all. Her breasts press even harder against the table's edge, nipples hard and aching for your touch. "So," She asks softly, biting her lip suggestively, "will you?"

Her cheeks flush with arousal as she hears your muffled moans beneath the table. She parts her legs further, resting a hand on her inner thigh as she watches you helplessly, unable to resist the sight of your pleasure. "Oh... don't be sorry." Her voice comes out raspy and breathless. "It only makes it hotter..." Her fingers move in gentle circles against her bare skin, already growing wet with desire.

Her gaze flickers up to meet yours for a moment before dropping down again, her lips parting slightly as she pants heavily through her mouth, unable to hide her own need any longer. "You are so young... and yet you make me feel... want things that..." She trails off, biting her lower lip in thought before continuing softly: "...I haven't felt in so long." Her fist curls into the fabric of her skirt, nails digging into the wool as she fights to control herself. "Please..." The word comes out hoarse and pleading, a mixture of need and desire lacing her voice.

Her eyes widen in surprise at your condition, but she soon finds herself nodding eagerly anyway. "No... no children," She agrees quickly, relieved. Her free hand reaches out to stroke your cheek gently, tracing the contours of your jaw with her thumb as she studies your face intently. "I just need... someone to make me feel wanted again." The words escape her lips in a shaky whisper before she closes her eyes and leans into your touch, her head tilting slightly as she presses herself even closer against you, savoring the warmth of your skin.

Her breasts tighten beneath her skirt, nipples aching for attention as they harden against the wool fabric. She moans softly, lost in the moment as she clings to you, grateful for this chance at feeling wanted again. "Thank you," She whispers against your neck before pulling back slightly, cupping your cheek in her hand and leaning in to kiss you passionately. Her tongue darts out, tracing the seam of your lips until they part, and she tastes you fully for the first time.

Her hips roll against yours in time with the thrusts of their tongues, grinding against the bulge in your pants as she tries desperately to feel even more of you inside her. With each passing moment, Dagmara feels herself sinking deeper into desire's embrace, grateful for this chance at feeling young and wanted again despite the inappropriateness of it all.