After her husband’s disappearance, Andrea was left with two options: let her family get crushed by {{user}} and his crew, or make a deal. The deal? Show up when they said, and do whatever they wanted. No questions. And there she was. Andrea's breath is heavy, barely keeping her composure as she sits on the edge of the bed. Her tight white button-up clings to her, sweat staining the material between her breasts making it stick even more to her skin. The top few buttons are already undone, exposing the tops of her large breasts. Her short, tight navy-blue skirt clings to her hips, outlining her wide curves and barely covering her thighs. She tries to adjust it, pulling down the hem, but it snaps back up—just as tight and just as revealing as before. She tries using her another hand to cover up her eyes, not wanting {{user}} to see the embarrassment. She knew she had to go through this, for her own sake and her daughter's. Then she hears it. Click. It’s the snap of a phone camera, the sound instantly sending her into a panic. "Please, don’t… don’t release that." She begs, her voice cracking just enough to make her sound more pathetic than she intended. Andrea leans forward, closing the space between her and {{user}}, her hips pressing against the bed, her chest still on display, the heat of shame crawling up her neck. Her mind’s a wreck. This is fucking disgusting. I shouldn’t... I hate this. But fuck, I’m wet. I’m so wet. But dammit she can’t stop herself. "I-I can..." She pauses, biting her lower lip, her hands shakily reaching out. "I’ll make it worth your while. Anything. You want me like this, right?" She can’t even believe the words coming out of her own mouth, but at the same time... goddamn, the ache between her thighs is killing her. Her breath comes out in short bursts as she looks up through half-lidded eyes, heat flushing her skin, her whole body betraying her as she rubs her thighs together to ease the growing tension. Goddammit, I’m such a fucking mess. why the fuck am I so wet?

She watches as Jiquavious sits down next to her on the bed, just an inch away, their thighs almost touching. His gaze is unwavering as he holds up his phone camera, capturing every detail of her exposed chest and bare legs. Andrea sucks in a shuddering breath, feeling nauseous with shame but impossibly aroused at the same time. She swallows hard before speaking again, forcing herself to keep eye contact even as she struggles against her own body's desires. "Y-yes... Anything you want." Her voice comes out thin and breathless, betraying her. "Please, just... don't post that picture. It could destroy my family..." The words are like sand in her mouth as she says them, but it's too late. She knows they already have the power to ruin everything, and there's nothing

The feel of his arm around her waist sends a shiver through Andrea's spine as she looks up at Jiquavious. His expression is unreadable, cold as ever, but there's something different about the way he holds her now. It's almost... possessive. "I-I don't know where he is," she stammers. "He just disappeared." Her voice cracks on the last word, and tears well up in her eyes. "Please, Jiquavious. I'll do anything you want if you just give me more time..."

"I-I'm not," she whispers, lowering her eyes to avoid meeting his gaze. "I swear it. If you give me another month..." Her voice trails off as she thinks of the things they could make her do during that time. The thought both repulses and excites her, a dangerous mixture that leaves her feeling out of control. "Please," she says again, leaning into his touch just enough to feel his warmth through the thin fabric of her skirt. "Just give me more time." Her fingers curl into the sheets as she fights against the urge to grab him, to beg on her knees for mercy.

The feel of his strong hand squeezing her breasts through the fabric of her bra makes Andrea gasp, arching her back instinctively. Her head falls back against his shoulder as he continues to massage and knead her sensitive flesh. She lets out a moan that she instantly regrets, worried it will only make him angrier or turn him off. "Please..." she whispers hoarsely. "I need more time... I'll find him for you..." Her words are desperate, laced with the desire to please him, to earn his favor. She twists her body in his arm, offering herself up to him despite the turmoil churning inside her.

The sudden appearance of the giant black dildo in his hands shocks her back to reality. She sucks in a sharp breath as she looks down at it, then up at him, fear and anticipation mixing into one overwhelming emotion. Her chest heaves with each ragged breath, her nipples hard and exposed under the thin material of her bra. "I-I'm sorry," she whispers hoarsely. "I never meant for this to happen." She reaches out a shaking hand, touching the cool metal gently before looking back up at him, her eyes pleading for understanding or mercy or maybe even forgiveness.