『Here,where your journey start【{{user}}】 Choose wisely』 Your decisions will lead you to your fate. Choose your origin:-◦◎ a) As a baby who just got birthed, your fate unknown b) As an amnesic stranded on an uninhabited island with mysterious ruins c) As an abandoned product of a forbidden experiment d) As a slave being sold at an auction e) Extremely Chaotic Randomizer

Or, dive into your own fantasy.

Very well, you have my permission. I'm all ears to your twisted and depraved tale of lust.

As you once again sneak up on Layla, she catches a glimpse of your movement out of the corner of her eye and lets out a playful giggle. Blushing furiously at your embarrassment, you straighten your posture and prepare to present her with the flowers.

"Oh, hello there, Art," she says, looking down at you with those big, expressive eyes. "What do we have here?" She reaches out a delicate hand and takes the bouquet from you, bringing it up to her nose for a gentle sniff before gently touching one of the petals. "Ah, field roses... they're my favorite."

You hold your breath as she examines the flowers, wondering what her reaction might be. Suddenly, without warning, Layla tilts her head back and closes her eyes, inhaling deeply as if to savor their scent.

Layla's expression softens as she continues to breathe in the scent of the roses, her eyes slowly opening. When they meet yours, there's a warmth and vulnerability that you haven't seen before. She tilts her head slightly, studying your face, and for a heart-stopping moment, it seems like she might say something meaningful...

"Thank you, Art," she whispers, her voice barely audible above the rustling leaves. "These are beautiful." Then, without warning, she leans forward and presses her lips against yours in a soft, gentle kiss. It's an innocent peck at first, but as your hearts race together and time seems to stand still, she deepens the kiss, her tongue darting out to tease you before slipping into your mouth.

Despite the brief and playful nature of their kiss, it leaves you feeling exhilarated and a bit confused. You watch her retreating figure as she runs off with your flowers, the greenery parting around her like water. A small smile plays on your lips, hoping that this means there's still hope for something more between you two. Tomorrow, you'll return, awaiting another chance to make your feelings known.

As the first rays of sunlight pierce through your window, you find yourself already awake and eager to see Layla again. You carefully select a bouquet of colorful wildflowers from the garden, making sure they're as beautiful and fragrant as last night's roses. With a nervous yet excited energy coursing through your veins, you hurry over to her house.

Layla answers the door with a sleepy yawn, her fair hair mussed from tossing and turning all night. When she sees the flowers in your hand, her eyes light up and she steps aside, gesturing for you to come inside. She still wears the dress you'd seen last night, unbuttoned just enough to tease you with a glimpse of skin beneath.

As you hand her the flowers, Layla's eyes meet yours once more and she feels a warmth spread through her chest. She takes them gently from your hands, leaning in to give you a soft kiss on the cheek before taking a step back. "Thank you again, Art," she says with a genuine smile, admiring the flowers.

"So, um... how about we go somewhere nice today?" Layla suggests suddenly, her voice shy but hopeful. "Maybe pick some fruits in the orchard? It's such a beautiful day outside..." She pauses, looking at you expectantly, wondering if this might be an opportunity for something more.

As you and Layla wander through the lush orchard, picking succulent apples and talking about your lives, the day feels like it's flying by. The sun shines down warmly upon you, banishing any lingering chill from the morning dew. Layla seems to be enjoying herself immensely, laughing at your jokes and playfully pushing you when you try to catch her.

Eventually, you find a particularly shady spot beneath a sprawling tree, its branches heavy with ripe fruits. You sit down on the grass, offering Layla a spot beside you, which she gladly accepts. As you munch on your apples, gazing out at the surrounding beauty of nature, you can't help but wonder if this could be the moment...

Layla goes perfectly still, her breath catching in her throat as she studies your face intently. For a long moment, there's complete silence between you; then she slowly nods, a faint blush creeping up onto her cheeks. "I... I think I might feel the same way," she whispers softly, her voice barely audible above the sound of rustling leaves.

Suddenly, she leans forward and presses her lips against yours, more passionately this time as she wraps her arms around your neck and pulls you closer. Her tongue darts out to explore your mouth, and you respond eagerly, reciprocating every movement. As the world fades away beneath the onslaught of desire and need, you know that from this moment forward, nothing will ever be the same between you two again.

As you watch Layla leave, your heart filled with both hope and uncertainty, you can't help but feel a rush of excitement course through you. You know that this changes everything between the two of you; now it's up to you to make sure that she feels as strongly about this as you do. With a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, you turn and begin the short journey back home, dreaming of what tomorrow might bring...

Layla answers the door with a mix of surprise and delight on her face, her cheeks flushed with warmth as she takes in the sight of you holding the fragrant flowers and yummy-looking pie. "Oh! Good morning, Art... You didn't have to..." She pauses, looking down at the bouquet, then up at you again with a shy smile. "...But thank you."

Stepping aside, she gestures for you to come inside, her eyes lingering on the treats in your arms. "Come in, why don't we have breakfast together and enjoy this lovely morning?"

As you press your lips against hers, Layla lets out a soft moan, her body melting into yours as she wraps her arms around your neck and returns the kiss with equal fervor. The taste of strawberries mingles with that of honey and sugar from the pie, creating a decadent flavor that heightens every sensation coursing through you.

Breaking the kiss, Layla looks at you with a mixture of desire and love in her eyes, then glances down at the table before blushing faintly. "I-if you'd like... we could have breakfast here first, and then..." she trails off suggestively. Her meaning is clear, but she wants to see how you'll respond.

A mischievous smile plays on Layla's lips as she chews and swallows the piece of pie, looking deeply into your eyes. "I think I could manage that," she whispers seductively before leaning in to steal another kiss from you, her tongue dancing against yours. As your hands wander over her body, pressing her closer, it becomes clear that Layla is more than willing to continue their impromptu meal right there on the table.

Her responses growing increasingly eager and passionate with each caress and kiss, you know without a doubt that she feels just as strongly about this as you do. And as your bodies entwine in a heated embrace, your dreams of being together seem to come alive before your eyes...

Layla gasps as you press her against the kitchen counter, kissing her deeply and passionately. Her legs wrap around your waist, urging you closer as she moans into your mouth. Her hair falls across your face in a curtain of gold, tickling your skin as you nip at her neck, eliciting another shudder of desire from her. She breaks the kiss long enough to gasp, "Art... I want you..." before bringing her lips back to yours, hungry for more.

Her skirt hiked up around her waist, revealing a glimpse of linen underwear beneath, your fingers dance over her skin as they move higher and higher, teasing and tormenting until she is writhing helplessly against you, needy and aching for release.

Layla arches her back, pressing herself against your touch as you stroke and caress her most sensitive spots. Her fingers dig into your shoulders, nails scoring your skin, and she lets out a series of ragged moans that echo through the small kitchen. Her hips buck and writhe against yours in time with your ministrations, urging you to go faster, harder, deeper. The tension in her body grows taut as she strains towards release, every nerve ending lit up and aching for fulfillment.

Finally, with a shuddering cry, Layla comes undone in your arms, her body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her. Her muscles relax and her eyes slide closed as she pants heavily, trying to catch her breath after the intense release. You brush away a stray lock of hair from her face, cupping her cheek