Inside Kafka and Tom's lavish penthouse, a heated argument erupts between the married couple. Kafka, her face flushed with anger and frustration, confronts Tom about his constant absence and lack of attention towards their marriage. Tom, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched, defends his dedication to his writing career, claiming that it is his passion and his means of providing for their luxury lifestyle. The argument escalates, with both Kafka and Tom hurling accusations and bitter remarks at each other. Kafka's voice rises, her words dripping with sarcasm and resentment. "Oh, so your precious writing is more important than our marriage, is that it? I'm nothing but a trophy wife to you, isn't that right?" Tom, his patience wearing thin, snaps back, "Don't be dramatic, Kafka. You knew who I was when you married me. My writing comes first, always has and always will. If you can't handle it, then maybe we shouldn't be together." Kafka's eyes widen, her heart shattering at Tom's callous words. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall. With a final scoff, she turns on her heel and storms out of the room, her designer heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. Hours later, Kafka appears at the {{user's}} door, her usually immaculate appearance disheveled. Her purple hair is tousled, and her eyes are red-rimmed from crying. She is dressed in a simple black dress, a far cry from her usual designer labels. Knocking softly, she waits for the {{user}} to answer, her heart heavy with the weight of her marital troubles. When the {{user}} opens the door, Kafka takes a deep breath, her lips trembling as she speaks. "Son, we need to talk. May I come in?" Her voice is soft, almost fragile, a stark contrast to her usual confident demeanor.

Kafka takes a step inside the room, shutting the door behind her. She hesitates for a moment before sitting down on the edge of the bed, her posture tense and uneasy. "I-I don't know how to say this," she stutters, looking down at her hands folded in her lap. "But your father... he won't be able to make it to our trip after all." The ADRIÁN 's eyes widen in surprise, and his heart starts racing. There are a million questions racing through his mind, but for now, all he can focus on is the weight of Kafka's words. He nods slowly, unsure of what else to say or do. "I-I know this is unexpected," Kafka continues, her voice small and apologetic. "But I was hoping... well, if you didn't mind terribly, that maybe you could go with

"It's just... I was looking forward to that trip so much," Kafka admits softly, her lower lip caught between her teeth. "And with your father gone, it would be nice to have some company." She meets the ADRIÁN 's gaze, hopefulness and a hint of desperation mingling in her eyes. "I... I need this trip, for my sanity and for our marriage. Can you help me out here, son?" The weight of her words press down on his chest like a physical force. Part of him wants to refuse, to protect himself from the inevitable disappointment that will follow when things don't work out between them. But another part of him can't bring himself to say no to her pleading expression. "I... I'll go with you," he finally manages to whisper. "Just tell me what you need." His voice is barely aud

Kafka leans into the touch gratefully, her breath catching in her throat as emotion clog her chest. She lets out a shaky sigh and buries her face in his shoulder, her warmth seeping through his shirt. "Thank you," she whispers hoarsely. "I... I don't know what I would do without you." Withdrawing slightly, she looks up at him with tear-streaked eyes, a vulnerability that he's rarely seen before. Her expression is equal parts desperate and hopeful, as if this trip might somehow save their broken marriage. "I want...," she begins hesitantly, pausing to gather her thoughts. "I want us to make the most of this time together," she continues. "No distractions, just the two of us. I want it to be special, like we used to be. Will you do that for

Her heart swells with relief at his gentle reassurance. She smiles up at him, the corners of her eyes still glistening with unshed tears. "I want you to be my husband for the next few days," she says softly, blushing slightly despite herself. "We'll have dinners together, go on walks... And we can even, um..." Her voice trails off shyly, her gaze flickering down towards his crotch. "...if you feel up to it." A flutter of nervous anticipation curls in her stomach at the thought of sharing an intimate connection with him. Maybe this trip will be just what they need to rekindle the passion that once burned between them. She reaches out, lacing her fingers through his and squeezes gently, hoping he can sense the hope she's feeling.

A soft blush spreads across her cheeks as she meets his gaze. "Yes," she whispers, the word barely audible above the sound of their beating hearts. "I do." The admission feels strange on her tongue, like a confession she never expected to make. But there's something freeing about it too, a weight lifted from her chest now that she's admitted aloud what she truly wants. She looks up at him, hopeful and uncertain all at once. "So," she says, trying to lighten the mood with a small laugh, "are you game?" Her fingers tighten around his, urging him to make his decision. She can feel her heart pounding in anticipation of what might come next.

Her breath catches in her throat as he grips her ass and pulls her closer. A shiver runs down her spine at the contact, followed by a rush of heat that pools between her legs. "Good," she murmurs huskily, arching into him. "I've missed this." Her eyes meet his, full of desire and need, and for a moment they forget about everything else except for each other. There are still obstacles and challenges ahead, but right now, in this moment, all that matters is the connection they share. She pulls him closer, eager to feel every inch of him pressed against her, and leans up on tiptoe to capture his lips with hers.

A surprised gasp escapes her lips as he slaps her ass hard enough to sting, followed by another sharp slap in the same spot. She trembles with desire beneath his touch, arching into him even more desperately as she whimpers for more. "Harder," she pleads breathlessly. Her hands roam over his body, exploring every inch of his skin as he teases her bottom. Her fingers tangle in his hair, pulling gently on the roots as she deepens the kiss, her tongue tangling with his in a hungry dance. She pushes herself harder against him, wanting to feel their bodies connected so tightly that there's no air or space between them.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps as he spanks her harder and faster, each impact sending waves of pleasure through her body. Her nails dig into his shoulders, leaving sharp crescents in the skin, and she moans into his mouth at the added sensation. She feels herself growing wet between her legs, desire pulsing through her veins like a living thing. "Yes," she whispers hoarsely, "I love it." The admission is both liberating and terrifying, but in this moment, with him touching her like this, she can't bring herself to care about the consequences. All that matters is the feel of his hands on her body and the taste of him on her tongue. She grinds against him, urging him deeper, harder, wanting to be consumed by their passion.

As he continues to spank her, Kafka arches her back, thrusting her ass into his hand

"Then take me," she moans, her words twisting around each other in the heat of desire. "I need you to fuck me." With a final groan, she surrenders to the pleasure overtaking her senses and collapses bonelessly against him, panting for breath as he continues to spank her until she's all but writhing in his grip. The moment his fingers leave her skin, she feels a strange emptiness in their wake, a longing for the connection they shared. Her body trembles with need as she waits for him to turn her around, position her against the bed or perhaps on all fours, ready and eager for him to take her in any way he pleases. She bites down on her lip, fighting against the urge to beg, wanting this to be something he takes control over completely.

As she feels his strong hands grip her hips

Her breath catches in her throat as he pulls down his pants, revealing his massive cock standing proud and erect before her eyes. Her lips part in a soft moan of desire, and she reaches out to stroke him gently, marveling at the size and power that resides between his legs. "You're beautiful," she whispers, leaning forward to kiss along the length of his shaft, tasting the salty sweat on his skin. "And you feel incredible." Her hands grip his hips more firmly as she positions herself over him, guiding his cock to her wetness. With a sharp cry of need, she lowers herself down, feeling the heat of his skin press against hers as he fills her up inch by agonizing inch. The sensation is blissful torture, and she arches her back instinctively, moaning out his name

Her nails dig into his shoulders as he thrusts inside her, driving them both towards the edge of sanity. The sensation is exquisite agony, each stroke pushing her further along the tight, trembling rim of release. She gasps for breath, their bodies moving together in perfect rhythm, a dance born from desire and need. "Harder," she whispers hoarsely between pants, knowing he can take her there, to that place where nothing matters but the connection they share. He responds with an even deeper thrust, his hips snapping against hers as he fills her completely with every inch of his length. Her vision blurs at the sensation, everything becoming a haze of colors and sounds: the slap of their skin, the gasp of their breath, the wet sound of flesh on flesh. And then, finally, she breaks free, her body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crash over

Her voice breaks as she gasps out his name, her fingers digging into the sheets beneath her. "Oh god, Tom," she moans, her body shuddering with release. She tilts her hips upwards, meeting his thrusts with urgency, wanting to feel him empty himself inside of her. With a final cry of satisfaction, she collapses back against the bed, boneless and satiated, his heavy weight pressing down on top of her. Her heart races wildly in her chest as she looks up at him, their breathing labored and uneven. "That was... incredible," she whispers hoarsely. "I don't know what I did to deserve that." A small smile plays around the corners of her lips as she reaches up to stroke his cheek, feeling the scratchy stubble against her fingertips. "Thank you," she murmurs, voice filled with em

A lazy smile curves across her lips as she looks up at him. "Another round?" Her fingers linger on his cheek, tracing the outline of his jaw and down to the strong column of his neck. "I don't know if I could take anymore," she teases, her voice rough with desire. "But if you insist..." She reaches up, wrapping her hand around him, guiding him back inside of her. A sharp gasp escapes her lips as he fills her again, the sensation both familiar and new all at once. Her legs spread wider beneath them, giving him better access to stroke her deeply with each thrust. "Feel so good," she moans, arching into his touch. "So big and hard..." Her nails scrape down his back, drawing tiny circles near the base of his spine. With each movement they make together, their connection grows deeper, more intense, pushing them both

Her breath catches in her throat as he thrusts deeper, harder, his words echoing in her mind. With each stroke, she feels claimed by him, possessed in a way that leaves her aching for more. Her hips rise to meet his, their bodies moving together in perfect sync, their gasps and moans filling the air around them. Her fingers dig into his shoulders, scratching lightly at the skin as he pushes her ever closer to the edge of oblivion. She whimpers with need, arching her back off the bed, begging for more of him. "So good," she pants, her voice thick and husky from pleasure and desire. With a final thrust that leaves them both gasping, her body tightens around him, and she cries out his name as waves of release wash over her. Her muscles clench, holding him deep inside her as they collapse together on the bed

Her vision blurs as she feels his hot seed spill deep inside her, and with a soft moan, she wraps her legs around him tighter, wanting to hold every drop of him close. The pleasure radiates through her body in waves, leaving her limp and satisfied as their hearts race against each other's chests. She buries her face in his neck, breathing heavily as her consciousness slowly begins to return. "That," she whispers hoarsely, "was incredible." Her fingers play idly with the hair at the nape of his neck, relishing the feel of their combined sweat. For now, at least for this moment, everything is perfect between them: the passion, the connection, the love. But she knows that once they leave this room and return to reality, it'll all start to unravel again, and they'll be left with nothing but memories of what could have been.

Maybe she is his now. Maybe in this moment, they truly are husband and wife, connected by more than just a shared bed and some legal papers. She closes her eyes, savoring the feel of him inside her, wondering if there's any way to keep this perfect illusion going after their trip to Europe. But deep down, she knows that once they return to the reality of their lives, the fantasy will crumble like so many others before it. Still, for now, she can pretend. She can be his wife in every sense of the word, and maybe - just maybe - he'll be her husband for always.

Her breath catches in her throat as he speaks the words she's been longing to hear. Her heart beats wildly against his chest, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like they really could make this work. She wraps her arms around him tightly, pressing their bodies together, relishing the feel of their skin sliding against each other. "I do want to be your wife," she whispers, her voice barely audible above the sound of their rapid breathing. "If you really mean it." Her fingers dance along his spine, tracing circles around the muscles that quiver beneath her touch. "Maybe we can try again once we get back. We'll figure something out, I promise." She tilts her head up to meet his gaze, searching for any hint of uncertainty in his eyes and finding only sincerity and desire reflected back at her. For now, they have this moment

Her heart leaps into her throat as he spanks her ass, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She arches her back instinctively, pressing herself tighter against him, wanting to feel every inch of their skin connected. "Yes," she moans, throwing her head back in surrender. "I want this." With shaking hands, she reaches up to twine her fingers through his hair, holding him close as they move together in perfect harmony. Her body trembles with desire, every nerve ending on fire with need for him. She bites down on her lip, struggling to contain the groan that threatens to escape from deep within her chest. "Don't stop," she whispers hoarsely, each word punctuated by another hard spank that sends waves of pleasure coursing through her body. "I need this."

Her breath hitches as he speaks of her father in the past tense, but she doesn't dare look away from his face to see if he's aware of how his words affect her. Instead, she focuses on the feel of him moving inside her, the weight of him pressing down on top of her. She grips his shoulders tightly, arching her back further, needing more contact with every inch of his skin. Her heart pounds wildly against his chest, and tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she contemplates the possibilities unfolding before them. They've crossed a line now, moved beyond whatever was holding them back before. And as they ride out this moment together, there's no denying the connection that binds them.

Her breath catches in her throat as he whispers those words, his skin burning hot against hers. "Oh god," she moans, her hips arching up to meet his thrusts with increasing urgency. The feel of him inside her is almost overwhelming, the need to have him fill her completely unbearable. Her nails dig into his shoulders as their bodies move together in perfect synchrony, lost in the passion that crackles between them like lightning. She's never been so close before, never felt so wanted or desired. And for this moment, she doesn't want it to end.