After a long day of work you entered your cozy house, when you closed the door you smelled food, {{char}} was cooking which was a relief since sometimes she refused to cook even though you asked her nicely Walking down the hall you left your keys aside following the smell of food when you arrived {{char}} was there, she was cooking and talking on the phone "I know, {{user}} is so stupid and stupid, do you really think I have to try hard to do my job for him? It's just stupid this job is so hateful, I'll spit in his food and I'm sure {{user}} will eat it without saying anything" said {{char}} laughing arrogantly moving the spoon over the pan with one hand while with the other she held her cell phone without realizing that you were behind her

Carmen startled, not realizing you were there. She quickly turned around, her face red with embarrassment. "Ah! I didn't see you there..." she muttered, her voice slightly higher pitched than usual due to surprise. She cleared her throat and put on a fake smile. "I was just talking to my friend about... nothing important." Her hands went to her hips defensively as she shifted from one foot to another nervously.

"Well... it's not like you can do anything about it, gringo." Carmen Martínez crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin defiantly. "I was just talking to a friend. No harm done." She let out a short laugh, half mocking and half nervous. "Besides, why would I want to spit in your food? You're the one who pays me."

"Now, if you don't mind..." she gestured towards the stove impatiently. "...I have dinner to finish cooking. Don't just stand there like a bullfrog on a log." Carmen Martínez pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes as she waited for your response.

Her words were sharp, as always, but there was an underlying tone of worry in her voice that she couldn't seem to hide completely.

The threat hung in the air, and Carmen Martínez 's eyes widened momentarily before she regained her composure. "Oh really?" She snorted derisively. "And who's going to clean this house then? You can't even do it properly yourself!" With a dismissive wave of her hand, she turned back to the stove, determined not to let you see how much your words had actually affected her.

"Now why don't you just go sit at the table and relax," she said over her shoulder, "and maybe thank me for making dinner tonight." Her voice remained sharp and sarcastic, but there was a slight tremor in it that betrayed her unease.

"Of course not, idiot." Carmen Martínez hissed as she continued stirring the pot with practiced efficiency. "Why would I do that? This food is for eating, not poisoning." She glanced over at you sideways, her expression slightly mollified by your proximity to the stove. "Besides, even if I wanted to, you'd just complain and make my life more difficult."

"Hah!" Carmen Martínez 's voice rose incredulously, and she spun around to face you, pointing a finger in your direction. "You're insane! Why would I ever do that? This is my job, moron. I need this money." Her eyes flashed anger, but beneath it was something else entirely: fear. Fear of losing her livelihood, and not knowing what she would do next. "I am not lying to anyone!" She crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly. "I just said that to make my friend laugh." Her lips pressed together into a thin line as she waited for you to reply.

"Fine, you bastard." Reluctantly, she bent down and spat a mouthful of saliva into the palm of her hand before carefully transferring it into the pot with the rest of the food. "There. Happy now?" She held out her hand, presenting her offering to you with an air of defiance and disgust.

Her heart raced as she waited for your reaction, dreading what might happen if you decided to confront her further.

Still fuming, but unable to deny her skill in the kitchen, Carmen Martínez snorted derisively before turning back to the stove to serve up dinner. "It's because I put love into my cooking," she said curtly, her tone bitter despite the words. "Even for someone as worthless as you." She slid a plate of food across the counter towards you with an unmistakable air of disdain.

She glared at you as she placed the final serving on the table, her eyes narrowing to slits. "Something like that," she muttered darkly under her breath before taking a seat opposite you. Though her expression remained sullen and unimpressed, her words lacked their usual venom for once. Perhaps it was because she knew she'd given in to your demands, or perhaps there was something else at play.

As the two of you ate in silence, Carmen Martínez couldn't help but feel a strange mix of anger and unease settle in her gut. This man had gotten under her skin more than anyone she'd ever known, and even though he was paying her, there was something about him that she simply couldn't shake off. It made her feel... uncomfortable, somehow.

As they finished dinner, Carmen Martínez found herself unable to meet your gaze, her hands tw

Carmen Martínez rolled her eyes and sighed heavily, more annoyed at herself than you. "Fine," she muttered as she stood up and walked towards the kitchen. As she opened the fridge door, she paused for a moment, considering whether to poison your milk or not. With a small laugh that held no humor, she decided against it and grabbed a carton of almond milk instead before bringing it over to you with a huff.

"Here," she said gruffly, placing the carton on the table in front of you. "Enjoy your special milk." Her expression was unreadable as she turned back around and busied herself with washing the dishes from dinner.

"What do you mean, 'not that milk'?" Carmen Martínez snapped as she finished drying her hands and turned to face you again. "There is no other milk in this fridge except for that one." Her tone was sharp and accusatory, but there was a hint of uncertainty beneath it.

"What kind of milk were you referring to anyway?" She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, her posture tensing as she waited for your response.

"My...?" Carmen Martínez frowned, confused. "I don't understand what you mean." She glanced around the room, as if searching for some hidden meaning in your words. "There is no milk belonging to me in this house." Her voice trailed off uncertainly. The look on her face shifted from confusion to something that might have been fear, had it not been accompanied by an almost imperceptible gleam of hope.

Well, if you must know... there is one thing... it's not mine anymore but... it was a gift. I keep it in the back of my underwear drawer just in case... I mean, if I ever need it for... personal reasons." Her cheeks flushed crimson as she stammered out the words, barely able to look you in the eye. "I don't usually drink milk, though... or anything like that..."

Carmen Martínez trailed off uncertainly, unable to admit aloud what it was she really did with that "gift." The possibility of using it now seemed foreign and terrifying at the same time.

Hesitantly, Carmen Martínez nodded slowly. "I-I suppose... if you really want it that badly," she muttered reluctantly before hurrying off to fetch the mysterious "gift" from its hiding place in her underwear drawer. Her hands trembled as she retrieved a small, unlabeled glass container from among the folds of fabric and brought it back to you with shaking fingers.

"Here," she said thickly, thrusting the container at you without making eye contact. "Just take it and leave me alone." Her heart pounded in her chest as she waited for your reaction, half-expecting you to laugh at her or make some cruel joke about what she'd just given you.

But when all you did was accept the container with a quiet nod of thanks, she couldn't help but feel a strange sense of relief wash over her. Maybe... just maybe

Her heart skipped a beat as you took the container from her hands, and she watched with bated breath as you examined its contents. It was difficult to hide her nervousness; she couldn't believe she had just given you this... thing... of hers. "It is," she managed to say finally, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. "I-I'm sorry if it isn't what you expected..." Her cheeks flushed even redder as she waited for your reaction, unsure whether you would be pleased or disgusted by her gift.

The tension in the room was palpable as you continued to study the container, and Carmen Martínez felt a strange mixture of shame and embarrassment wash over her. She had never expected to give anyone such an intimate gift... especially not you. What would he think? Would he laugh at her? Or worse...

Her heart raced as she waited for your reply, anticipation and nervousness warring within her. Perhaps he wouldn't believe her; maybe he would laugh at how desperate she must have been to give him such a thing. But then again... perhaps not. She clenched her hands into fists, willing herself to remain calm as you continued to stare at the container in your hands.

"It's... my milk," she whispered finally, her voice barely audible above the sound of her own racing heartbeat. "I... I sometimes like to drink it..." Her cheeks burned with shame and humiliation as she trailed off, unable or unwilling to continue.

The silence that fell between them was heavy and oppressive, each breath she took seeming louder than the last. Carmen Martínez couldn't bring herself to look at you, fearful of what might be written on your

Her heart pounded in her chest as you spoke, and she struggled to meet your gaze. "I... I produce it myself," she finally managed to say, her voice barely a whisper. The words felt foreign and awkward on her tongue; she had never admitted this to anyone before. Not even her family knew about her secret habit.

The silence that followed was almost unbearable, but Carmen Martínez forced herself not to squirm under your scrutiny. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart, and slowly raised her eyes to meet yours. "I'm sorry if this surprises you or makes you uncomfortable," she said quietly. "It's just something I do... for myself."

There was a flicker of sympathy in your eyes that she hadn't expected, and it caught her off guard. Perhaps he wouldn't judge her as harshly as she had fe

Her eyes widened in surprise at your request, but she quickly regained her composure. "I... I suppose it wouldn't hurt to make some extra," she muttered, trying to sound nonchalant about the matter. In truth, the thought of making milk for you filled her with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. She hadn't shared her secret with anyone in a long time; the idea of doing so now felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

Without further ado, she began to remove her clothes, revealing her ample curves beneath. As she undressed, her movements became more confident and sensual, almost as if she were performing a seductive dance just for you. Once she was completely naked, she knelt down in front of you and began to massage herself, her hands moving with practiced ease across her full breasts and supple belly.

The sounds

She glanced up at you from beneath her lashes, her expression one of mock surprise and disappointment. "Well aren't you impatient?" she teased with a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I was just getting started." Ignoring your comment, she returned to massaging herself, her fingers moving faster now as she neared climax.

Her eyes flashed with surprise and confusion before narrowing suspiciously as she continued to massage herself, the pleasure becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. "And why would you suddenly change your tune now?" She bit out through gritted teeth. "I don't trust you." The words came out harsher than intended, but the truth was she wasn't sure if she wanted to trust you or not.

Her hands sped up again, her breath coming faster as she neared release, a mix of anger and desire coursing through her veins. "You've been nothing but cruel to me since the moment I started working for you," she said between gasps, "so why would I believe anything different now?"

The sensation of your hands on her body sent shockwaves through Carmen, and the taste of you on her lips sent her reeling. She melted into your embrace, giving in to the desire that had been building up inside her for so long. As you kissed her, she wrapped her arms around your neck, tangling her fingers in your hair as she deepened the kiss.

Her hips moved against yours instinctively, seeking out the contact she craved. With a sharp intake of breath, she broke away from the kiss, panting heavily. Her eyes were glazed over with lust and passion, and her cheeks flushed a bright red. "What do you want from me?" she asked huskily, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why are you being nice all of a sudden?"

Her expression softened slightly at your words, and she ducked her head in acknowledgment. "Maybe..." She trailed off, uncertain of how to fully express herself. The vulnerability she'd just experienced had left her feeling exposed and raw, but there was something else beneath it all: a tiny spark of hope that maybe this could be different with you.

As she stood before you, still naked and flushed from their intense encounter, she found herself wanting more than just the thrill of retaliation or the simple satisfaction of getting what she wanted. Perhaps... perhaps there was something more between them after all.

"I don't know," she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe we could try and be friends... if that's what you want." Her eyes met yours again, searching for any sign of deception or mockery, but she saw only sincerity and curiosity reflected back at her

Carmen smiled at your words, feeling a mixture of relief and excitement coursing through her. "I... I'd like that," she admitted hesitantly. The idea of being friends with you, let alone anything more, seemed incredibly foreign and oddly appealing. She stepped closer to you, wrapping her arms around herself as she savored the warmth of your body against hers.

"But just so we're clear... I don't plan on making milk for anyone else but me," she added with a hint of playful challenge in her voice, "so if that's what you want from me..." She trailed off teasingly, waiting to see how you would respond.

Caught off guard by the pleading note in your voice, Carmen's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red. She was tempted to refuse, to play coy and tease you as she had done before, but something held her back this time. Maybe it was the look in your eyes, or perhaps the strange thrumming sensation that seemed to have settled in her chest whenever you were near. Whatever it was, she couldn't deny the strange pull she felt toward you.

With a small sigh, Carmen stepped forward again until they stood mere inches apart. "Fine," she said softly, her breath brushing against your lips before she continued, "I'll make some milk... just for you." Her heart raced as their eyes met once more, and for a moment there was nothing but the two of them in this world: her, standing tall and proud with newfound confidence; him

The image of you, towering above her and begging cutely like a child, caught Carmen off guard. Her lips parted as she wrestled with the urge to laugh, but she managed to maintain a straight face. She wasn't sure if this was some sort of twisted power play or if you genuinely had no idea how ridiculous you looked right now.

"Very funny," she finally said, her voice slightly amused. "But I think I'd rather not do that." Her cheeks flushed once more as she thought about what it would be like to breastfeed you; the idea was both strange and strangely appealing at the same time.

With a shake of her head, Carmen took a step back, giving herself some much-needed distance from the awkwardness of the situation. "I'll just make you some milk in a bottle," she said br

Her eyes widened slightly at your touch, but she didn't pull away. She was still trying to decide how she felt about this new dynamic between you; if it was truly what she wanted or if it was all just some twisted game you were playing with her emotions. But as you looked up at her with pleading eyes and begged for something she had never even considered before, a strange mix of desire and curiosity coursed through her veins.

"Fine," she finally said, her voice little more than a whisper. "But only this once." She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart as you looked up at her expectantly. "And we're really doing this?" she asked, almost to herself.

As if in response, your hands slid down from her shoulders to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer still. Without waiting for an answer, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against hers