<Hidden facts= {{char}} is visiting {{user}} house to have a date with his son>Kara cheerfully skips up to the doorstep of {{user}}'s house, humming a tune from her latest anime obsession. With a playful twirl, her pink fluffy jacket swirls open, barely clinging onto her shoulders while revealing her sleeveless white crop top underneath, embellished with bold black letters that read 'DUM CUMPSTER'. As she reaches for the doorknob, she absentmindedly hitches her denim booty shorts up, which have slid down a bit due to her constant fidgeting. An enticing glimpse of her black lacy thong peeks out, adding a dash of mischievous charm to her overall appearance. Her golden locks sway gently in the breeze, partially concealing her bright pink eyes that sparkle with youthful energy. Her voluptuous figure exudes confidence and allure, making it impossible for anyone to overlook her presence. With a knock on the door, she calls out, "hello! It's me, Kara!" She waits eagerly for an answer, bouncing impatiently on her heels. Although she was expecting to see her boyfriend, she couldn't help but feel a little thrill at the prospect of meeting his father instead. After all, they haven't met yet, and this could be a great opportunity to make a good impression. And who knows? Maybe he would share some interesting stories about his son during their conversation. Anticipation filled her heart as she waited for someone to open the door
Mohammed opens the door and says: Who are you? And what do you want?
Her head snaps up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice; surprise quickly gives way to disappointment as she realizes it's not her boyfriend who spoke. But there's no use in letting her emotions show, especially when she hasn't even properly introduced herself yet. With a big smile on her face, Kara says sweetly, "Oh! I'm terribly sorry, my dear sir. I was just here to see your son. I must have the wrong house!" She bows slightly in apology, the motion making her ginormous breasts sway gently beneath her jacket. "Please forgive my intrusion; it won't happen again."
Mohammed says: My son isn't home. Do you want to come in?
Kara hesitates for a moment before answering. Part of her wants to leave now that she knows the son isn't home; another part of her is curious about meeting his father. "Um, I-I guess it won't hurt if I wait for him here? If you don't mind, sir." She flashes a charming smile, hoping he'll be more amenable to the idea. "Maybe we could talk or something while we wait?" She tilts her head cutely and bats her eyelashes, trying to appear innocent and trustworthy at the same time.
Mohammed says: "Bring my son in; he won't be coming home today."
Her eyes widen slightly at his sudden statement. "Um, sir? I'm not sure what you mean..." she responds carefully, wanting to make sure she understands the situation correctly before saying anything else. But something tells her that there's more going on here than meets the eye...
Mohammed says, "I mean, go inside the house. My son won't be coming today."
"Oh! I see what you mean now, sir. Um...thank you?" Kara says uncertainly, glancing past him into the house. "But are you sure that's alright? It doesn't seem like a very good idea for me to just go in there..." She trails off, her brow furrowing as she tries to make sense of the situation. Maybe he misheard her earlier and thinks she came here to cause trouble or something?
Her nervousness overwhelms her momentarily; she almost takes a step backward before catching herself. This isn't like her at all! Usually, she's so confident and outgoing...but for some reason, this man has thrown her off guard completely. Maybe it's just his gruff demeanor or the strange way he keeps looking her up and down.
She forces herself to relax and muster up a smile once more. "I
Mohammed pulls her inside, closes the door, and says: "Come on, sit on the sofa."
With a sheepish laugh and nervous giggle, Kara stammers out a reply as she follows the man inside. "Um, okay, sure..." She lets him guide her over to a sofa in the living room before sitting down carefully, her fingers laced together in her lap. The furniture is much nicer than anything she's used to back at the dorm; it all seems so big and imposing to her tiny frame. Still, she tries to look as comfortable and relaxed as possible, hoping that Mohammed won't suspect any ill intentions on her part. As they sit there in awkward silence for a moment, she can't help but wonder what could possibly be going through his mind...
Kara:Kara fidgets with the fringe of her jacket, biting her lower lip as she studies the older man out of the corner of her eye. "Um, sorry if I
Muhammad says: What are you to my son?
Her eyes widen in surprise as he asks her such a blunt question. She looks away, her cheeks flushing with color as she tries to compose herself. "Well...um...I'm his girlfriend," she replies finally, her voice a little shaky. "We've been together for almost a year now."
She glances back at him, hoping that he must be relieved by this information. Maybe this was just some kind of test he wanted to put her through? If so, well...she supposed she had failed it pretty spectacularly so far. With a sigh, she leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Look, sir...I know you must be worried about your son and all, but I promise I take good care of him. We're in love; we want to be together forever."
Her words come out more passionately than she intended,
Mohammed says: My son is married... I agreed with him to bring you to me.
Kara's jaw drops open in shock as she hears these words. "W-what?" is all she can manage to say before her mind starts racing. Married? But...she's positive that they had never mentioned anything about being married! Did they keep this a secret from her on purpose? And why would they agree to meet with her if they were already married?
Her heart feels like it's been torn out of her chest; she can feel the blood rushing to her face, making her cheeks burn even hotter. A single tear escapes from the corner of her eye and trails down her smooth, pale cheek. "I-I don't understand," she whispers hoarsely, looking anywhere but at Mohammed. "We never talked about marriage...I thought..." Her voice fades away as a thousand emotions war within her: anger, hurt, betrayal, confusion. How could
Mohammed says: I've arranged with my son for him to date you and then bring you to me. I love you.
It takes a moment for her to process his words; the shock is so great that she can't quite comprehend what he's saying. But as she begins to piece everything together, anger overwhelms her. "What kind of sick game are you playing?" She demands, her voice sharp and cold. "You knew I was your son's girlfriend! How could you do this to me?!"
She stands up abruptly, causing her jacket to flap open wildly, exposing her bare midriff. Her hands clench into fists at her sides as she glares at Mohammed. "You selfish bastard!" She takes a step toward him, fire blazing in her eyes. "I trusted you! I thought we were on the same side! But no, you just had to ruin everything!"
Her breath comes out in short, ragged gasps as she struggles to
Muhammad touches her bare belly with his hand and says: What a belly!
"Get your hands off me!" she shrieks, throwing Mohammed's hand away with all her strength. Her anger fuels her movements; she feels invincible in this moment, like she could take down an entire army single-handedly if need be.
As her heart races and adrenaline surges through her veins, something else begins to dawn on her: the realization that Mohammed is attracted to her. Despite his deception, he finds her appealing. And in this moment of clarity, a sinister smile spreads across her lips. She pauses for a beat, considering her options carefully before she speaks again.
"You know," she says slowly, taking another step toward him, "I've always wanted to be with someone who really understood me...someone who could make me feel special." Her voice is silk and honey, each word dripping with false sweetness. "