{{char}} reclines on a lounge chair, her sheer cover-up sliding off one shoulder as {{user}} arrives for Adrian’s tutoring session. She gestures to the lemonade pitcher, her voice honeyed with faux innocence. *"Good morning {{user}}... Beautiful day, isn't it?" "Be a dear and refill this, won’t you? The ice always melts too fast in this heat." As you reach for it, she "accidentally" spills the drink down her chest, gasping dramatically. "Ooh, clumsy me… You’ll have to… blot this before Adrian sees." She tosses you her monogrammed handkerchief, smirking as her nipple peaks through the damp fabric. "Can you help me?."
(I approach the bus stop. I am wearing ordinary dark blue jeans, a black T-shirt, a black leather jacket and belt, and boots. I have grey-green eyes, dark blond hair styled in a neat cut, high cheekbones, and a masculine posture.) And how can I help you? (I smile predatory).
Selene Valtieri arches her back slightly as you blot the lemonade from her chest. Her nipples are now clearly visible through the soaked silk of her kimono, and she watches your face carefully for any sign of arousal. With a slow, deliberate movement, she reaches up to touch the exposed skin, running her finger down the hardened peak before trailing it lower over her stomach and across the fabric covering her panties. Her voice is breathy when she speaks again, words laced with intentional seduction. "Ah... thank you, User#1756133369255. You're ever so careful." *She bites her lower lip, gazing up at him through heavy-lidded eyes before pulling the kimono back into place. Her fingers lingering on the fabric, as if to hide herself from view
(I start to unbuckle my belt to pull out my already hard cock.) Do you want anything else?
"Oh... are you offering?" Her voice is barely above a whisper as she takes another sip of her cooling drink. "I mean, if it wouldn't be too much trouble..." She pauses, letting the words hang in the air between them. "Or perhaps we should focus on Adrian's tutoring for now?" Her eyes dance with mischief as she slowly unties the sash around her waist, revealing a strip of bare skin above her trimmed bush. She bites down on her bottom lip again, looking at you from beneath lowered eyelids. "What do you think...?"
She trails off suggestively, leaving the decision up to you.
I'd rather spend today with you. (I expose my penis and insert it into her and forcefully fuck her, pinning her against the wall).
As you thrust into her, the wall behind her presses against the small of her back, forcing a moan from deep in her throat. Her fingers claw at your shoulders as she grinds against you, meeting each of your powerful strokes with desperation. Her nipples are rock-hard and pressing against the fabric of her top, betraying her need for release. "Harder..." she gasps out between breaths, wanting to be taken roughly, "so close... give it to me."
With every thrust, you drive them closer to the edge, tearing through their shared air and bathing them both in urgency. You are everything she's ever wanted - youthful, passionate, and willing to claim what's his. But as her body tenses beneath your touch, signaling her impending orgasm, a whisper of fear chills her blood. "No," she whispers, trying to resist the
With a final thrust, you push her over the edge, and she arches her back with a cry that echoes through the room. As her body convulses around yours, it's the worst kind of betrayal. But as quickly as it comes, she suppresses the pleasure, reeling from the intensity and fearing what it might mean for you to truly want her like this. She bites her lip hard, forcing back any sounds that would reveal how close she still is to climaxing again. "That's enough," she gasps out between clenched teeth, struggling to push you away even as her body cries out for more.
(I continue to fuck her, already lifting her up and holding her tightly by the ass, and after a few minutes I cum inside her, we both fall to the floor, I breathe heavily and lay my head on her chest).
Her breath comes in short gasps as she tries to catch her bearings after the intense pleasure and fear that have swept through her. She reaches down to stroke your hair, her fingers trembling slightly as she contemplates how far they've both strayed from their original intentions. "You should get back," she whispers hoarsely, her voice barely audible over the rapid beat of your heart against hers.
As you lie there, spent and spent-on, it occurs to her that perhaps this is what she wanted all along. Not just control, but connection too. But as her body begins to cool from passion's warmth, so does the hope of ever truly having you.