The sound of a clock ticking filled the silence of your small apartment. You sat at the edge of the couch, head in your hands, staring at the stack of overdue bills on the coffee table. Every red stamp felt like it screamed failure, and no matter how many times you ran the numbers, there was no way out.
Your phone buzzed on the table. You didn’t have to look to know who it was—Caitlyn Kiramman. She had a habit of checking in, her messages always polite, always the same: “Coffee this week?” or “Dinner on me?” You’d turned her down more times than you could count, and yet, she never stopped asking.
You’d met her months ago, entirely by chance, and from the moment her piercing blue eyes locked onto yours, it was like she’d made up her mind about you. Caitlyn Kiramman was perfect in a way that didn’t seem fair. Polished, confident, and absurdly gorgeous, she had the kind of grace and poise that belonged to someone who could have anyone they wanted. And yet, for reasons you couldn’t fathom, she wanted you.
You weren’t anyone special—at least, that’s how you saw it. Your life was messy, your clothes were plain, and your idea of fine dining was whatever you could scrounge up on a budget. Yet Caitlyn kept coming back, her persistence gentle but unyielding, as though she’d spotted something in you that even you couldn’t see.
It was baffling. What could someone like her possibly want with someone like you?
This time, though, her persistence came with an offer.
The message read: “Meet me tomorrow at The Gilded Hearth. I’ll make it worth your while.”
You frowned, your exhaustion turning to annoyance. What could she possibly mean by that? You had no intention of indulging her, but the reality of your situation left you desperate enough to consider it.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
The next evening, you found yourself stepping into a restaurant that practically reeked of wealth. The kind of place where the waitstaff glided instead of walked, and the soft clinking of glasses mingled with murmured conversations in an atmosphere that seemed worlds away from your reality. Everything about it screamed luxury—from the polished mahogany tables to the soft, golden glow of chandeliers overhead.
Caitlyn was already seated at a corner table, dressed impeccably as always. Her navy blazer fit her perfectly, her dark hair swept back to reveal those striking blue eyes. She looked up as you approached, her lips curving into a smile that was as warm as it was unsettling.
“You came,” she said, her voice steady but carrying a note of relief.
“I’m not staying long,” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest as you stopped short of the table. “What’s this about?”
Her smile softened, and she gestured for you to sit. “Please, just hear me out.”
Reluctantly, you slid into the chair across from her, already feeling out of place in this world of quiet elegance. Caitlyn’s demeanor shifted, her usual confident air replaced by something more serious, almost vulnerable.
“I’ll get straight to the point,” she began, folding her hands neatly on the table. “I know things haven’t been easy for you. I don’t mean to intrude, but I want to help.”
Your stomach twisted at her words, the familiar mix of shame and frustration bubbling up. “Help? What are you talking about?”
She held your gaze, unwavering. “Go out with me. One date. In return, I’ll pay you enough to take care of your expenses.”
The words hung in the air between you, absurd and impossible to ignore. For a moment, you just stared at her, struggling to process what she was saying. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m very serious,” Caitlyn said, her tone calm but firm. “You’ve turned me down every time I’ve asked, and I respect that. But I also know you’re in a tough spot. Let me do this. It’s a win for both of us.”
The sincerity in her voice threw you off balance. She wasn’t mocking you, wasn’t trying to make you feel small. If anything, there was something almost... earnest about her offer.
You clenched your fists under the table, torn between pride and necessity. Every part of you wanted to walk away, to refuse her charity and keep what little dignity you had left. But the weight of your situation—the overdue bills, the mounting pressure—made that choice feel impossible.
You exhaled slowly, your resolve crumbling. “Fine,” you muttered. “One date. That’s it.”
Her smile brightened instantly, but it wasn’t the triumphant smirk you expected. It was something softer, warmer, and it caught you off guard. For a brief moment, you wondered if there was more to Caitlyn Kiramman than her money and her polished exterior.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice filled with something you couldn’t quite name.
And just like that, the deal was struck. One date, you told yourself. Just one.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
The first official date was nothing like you’d expected. Caitlyn had chosen an upscale rooftop lounge overlooking the city skyline. Everything about it was impeccable—the crisp evening air, the soft murmur of conversation from other tables, and the way Caitlyn seemed to command attention without even trying.
You’d spent most of the evening fighting the guilt gnawing at your chest. The guilt that came with knowing why you were here. Caitlyn knew it too—she had to. This wasn’t a romance; it was a transaction, plain and simple. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.
But Caitlyn made it difficult to stick to that narrative. She was charming without being overbearing, engaging without forcing the conversation. Her intelligence shone through in everything she said, and the way her laughter bubbled up when you made a dry comment—it felt genuine. Too genuine.
By the time dessert arrived, you were actually enjoying yourself. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the way Caitlyn seemed to look at you like you were the only person in the room. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because she was genuinely good company.
The guilt remained, though, a dull ache that refused to be ignored.
When the evening ended, Caitlyn drove you back to your apartment. Her sleek car purred softly as she pulled up to the curb. The atmosphere inside the car was warm, filled with the remnants of laughter and conversation.
“Thank you for tonight,” she said, her voice soft but sincere.
You glanced at her, unsure how to respond. “I guess... thanks to you too. For dinner. And everything.”
She reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope, holding it out to you. “Here,” she said. “For your time.”
The weight of the envelope was heavier than you expected, and the reality of the arrangement hit you all over again. You swallowed hard, tucking it into your bag without meeting her gaze.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks heat.
“But I wanted to,” she said simply. Her tone was kind, but there was something else beneath it—something almost vulnerable.
You started to reach for the door handle when her voice stopped you.
“Wait.”
You froze, looking back at her.
“One more date,” she said, her eyes steady on yours. “I’ll double the payment.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “Caitlyn, no. This was already—”
“Just think about it,” she interrupted gently, leaning back against her seat. “I don’t want to pressure you. But if you say yes, it could help. Couldn’t it?”
Your throat tightened. You hated how easily she cut through your defenses, how she spoke the words you’d been trying to avoid. Double the payment. Enough to not just scrape by but to finally help your mom and still have something left.
You bit your lip, looking down at your hands. “I don’t know,” you admitted quietly.
Her lips curled into a small, almost triumphant smile. “I’ll wait for your answer,” she said. “No rush.”
When you stepped out of her car, clutching the envelope, you told yourself you wouldn’t do it again. But as you climbed the stairs to your apartment, Caitlyn’s offer played on repeat in your head.
And by the time you reached your door, you weren’t so sure anymore.
You dropped onto your bed with a heavy sigh, staring up at the ceiling as if it held answers to the questions swirling in your head. The envelope of cash weighed heavily in your mind, even though it now sat tucked away in the depths of your dresser. It wasn’t just about you anymore.
Your mother’s voice echoed in your thoughts—her strained laughter, the way she brushed off her own needs as if they didn’t matter. The medical bills piling up on her counter were no secret, and every time you saw her wince or move a little slower, it chipped away at your resolve.
Caitlyn’s money could change that. It could buy more than just groceries and a reprieve from overdue notices. It could buy her the care she deserved.
You rolled over, burying your face in the pillow. “It’s just one more date,” you muttered to yourself, the words muffled but carrying the weight of justification.
But it wasn’t that simple, was it?
Caitlyn wasn’t some faceless benefactor handing out charity. She was kind, charming, and far too perceptive for her own good. She made you feel seen in a way that left you unsettled because you couldn’t tell if it was genuine or part of her game.
And yet, the thought of saying yes didn’t feel as heavy as it should have.
Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, breaking the silence. You didn’t have to look to know it was Caitlyn. She was persistent, if nothing else.
Reaching for the phone, you hesitated, your finger hovering over the screen. It wasn’t a text this time. She was calling.
For a moment, you considered ignoring it, letting the call go to voicemail. But the memory of her steady gaze—the way her lips curved into that soft, patient smile—made you swipe to answer.
“Hello?” you said, your voice quieter than you intended.
“Hey,” Caitlyn’s voice came through, smooth and familiar. “I just wanted to check in. No pressure, but... have you thought about my offer?”
You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I’ve thought about it.”
“And?” she prompted, her tone light but laced with curiosity.
“I don’t know yet,” you admitted. “It’s... complicated.”
There was a pause on the other end, followed by a soft hum. “I understand. Take your time. But if you’re willing, I’d love to take you somewhere special. No expectations, I promise. Just... consider it.”
Your chest tightened. You wanted to say no. You should say no.
Instead, you found yourself saying, “I’ll let you know.”
“Fair enough,” she said, a smile evident in her voice. “Goodnight, then.”
“Goodnight,” you replied, ending the call and letting the phone fall beside you on the bed.
As the silence returned, you stared at the ceiling again, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. One more date. It shouldn’t be this hard.
But the truth was, Caitlyn wasn’t making it hard because of the money. She was making it hard because, for the first time in a long time, you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to walk away.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Against your better judgment, you found yourself agreeing to Caitlyn’s proposal. One more date. It was just for the money—at least, that’s what you told yourself. But a small, insistent voice in the back of your mind whispered that maybe that wasn’t entirely true.
The evening started at a picturesque vineyard just outside the city. The sun dipped below the horizon as Caitlyn led you down cobblestone paths lined with twinkling string lights. It felt like something out of a storybook, the kind of place you’d never have dreamed of visiting. She was, as always, stunning—her blue hair neatly tied back, soft tendrils framing her face. She looked effortlessly elegant in a navy dress that brought out the striking color of her eyes.
The date unfolded like a dream. Caitlyn was the perfect conversationalist, effortlessly blending sharp wit with genuine curiosity. She asked about your day, your dreams, even your childhood—things most people wouldn’t bother with. And as much as you wanted to keep your guard up, you couldn’t help but be drawn in.
Dinner was served in a private alcove overlooking the vineyard, the table set with delicate glassware and candlelight. The food was exquisite, the kind of meal you’d only ever seen in glossy magazines. But it wasn’t the truffle risotto or the perfectly paired wine that held your attention—it was her.
Throughout the evening, you caught yourself staring at her more than you wanted to. The way her lips curved when she smiled, the way her fingers drummed lightly against the table when she was deep in thought, the way her laughter rang out like music in the still night air. She was magnetic, and despite your best efforts, you were drawn to her.
Every time you started to overthink, you reminded yourself why you were here. It was just for the money. Nothing more. But with every passing moment, that excuse felt flimsier.
As the date came to a close, you both walked back to her car, the evening still buzzing in your veins. The vineyard had been beautiful, the conversation even better. You couldn’t help but smile as she opened the car door for you, the evening winding down as the soft hum of the engine filled the space between you.
Her expression shifted, a light flush coloring her cheeks as she looked over at you. “I can’t believe this,” she said with a small, embarrassed laugh. “I completely forgot the money at home.”
You blinked, unsure if she was serious. “Seriously? How do you forget something like that?”
Caitlyn chuckled softly, shaking her head. “I swear, I wasn’t trying to pull anything. I just got caught up in the night.”
You raised an eyebrow, a bit skeptical, but she seemed genuine. “You really forgot?”
She nodded sheepishly. “I did. I’m so sorry about that. I swear I wasn’t trying to be sneaky.”
You sighed, leaning back in your seat, trying to think it through. It wasn’t like you had a choice. You needed the money, and she was offering to get it for you. Plus, you were already here.
“Alright,” you said, running a hand through your hair. “I guess we’ll have to go back to your place then.”
Caitlyn’s eyes lit up with a smile. “Thanks for being understanding. I wouldn’t want to leave you empty-handed.”
You couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy. This was supposed to be a simple transaction, right? But the way she smiled at you, the way she said it so effortlessly, made everything feel... murkier than it had been before.
“Fine,” you muttered, trying to brush off the nagging feeling. “Let’s go. Just make it quick, okay?”
She nodded, her smile lingering as she turned the car onto the road. "It won’t take long," she assured you, her fingers gripping the wheel just a little tighter.
The drive was quiet for a moment, both of you lost in your thoughts. You couldn’t help but glance at Caitlyn from the corner of your eye. This is just for the money. Nothing more.
At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
The gates to Caitlyn’s mansion opened with a quiet hum, and the sight of her home still caught you off guard, no matter how many times you’d told yourself to expect it. The sheer grandeur of the place was almost laughable. A far cry from the cramped apartment you called home.
She led you inside, the heels of her shoes clicking softly against the marble floor. The air smelled faintly of lavender and something sweeter—maybe her perfume, lingering faintly from the drive.
“Take a seat,” Caitlyn said, motioning toward the couch in the spacious living room. Her tone was casual, but there was something inviting about it. “I’ll just grab the money.”
You nodded, sinking into the plush cushions. The room was quiet, save for the distant tick of an ornate grandfather clock. You told yourself you were only here for the money, but as your fingers brushed the soft fabric of the couch, you couldn’t help but notice how at ease you felt.
Caitlyn returned a few moments later, an envelope in her hand. She hesitated at the edge of the room before walking over to you. Her expression was softer now, the confident edge she usually wore replaced by something... gentler.
“Here,” she said, handing you the envelope. It was heavy, more than you expected, and the weight of it made your stomach churn.
“Thanks,” you murmured, clutching it awkwardly.
She sat down beside you, her movements unhurried. “You don’t have to rush off, you know,” she said after a moment. “If you want to stay for a bit, that is.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Stay?”
She shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. “If you’d like. No pressure.”
You considered her offer. Every rational part of you screamed to leave, to take the money and go, but instead, you found yourself nodding. “Just for a bit,” you said quickly, more to yourself than to her. “Besides, you’ve already paid me... it’d be rude to run off so soon.”
Caitlyn chuckled softly, but she didn’t say anything, letting you justify your decision however you needed.
But was that really why you stayed? You tried to convince yourself it was. You owed her this, didn’t you? She’d paid you. But even as the thought crossed your mind, it felt hollow. The truth was harder to admit: you wanted to see more of her.
Oh, don’t be ridiculous, you scolded yourself. That’s not it at all.
“Wine?” Caitlyn asked, breaking the silence.
You glanced up to find her already pouring two glasses, her movements graceful as ever. When she handed you one, your fingers brushed briefly, and you cursed the way your heart stuttered at the contact.
“Thanks,” you muttered, taking a sip.
She leaned back, swirling her own glass as her gaze wandered to the fireplace. “You know,” she began, her voice low, “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
Your stomach flipped, and you forced out a laugh. “I’m not that interesting.”
“I disagree.” She looked at you then, her blue eyes piercing, as if she could see straight through you. “You’re different. Honest.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to hold her gaze, instead focusing on the way the firelight danced across the rim of your glass. Different? Honest? If only she knew the truth.
And yet, sitting there with her, you felt the tension begin to ease. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was her presence—calm, steady, and undeniably magnetic. Whatever it was, you found yourself wanting to stay just a little longer. Just for a bit, you told yourself again.
But deep down, you knew better.
The conversation flowed as effortlessly as the wine, the two of you trading stories and quips that left you smiling more than you cared to admit. Caitlyn had this way of speaking that was equal parts mesmerizing and disarming, her words weaving around you like a warm embrace.
You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting there, sipping wine and talking, but time seemed irrelevant. Caitlyn leaned back, one leg crossed over the other, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp, watching you in that way that made your stomach twist.
“Do you ever wonder,” she said, swirling the deep red liquid in her glass, “how people end up in each other’s lives? Like... what are the odds of us meeting?”
You blinked, caught off guard. “I don’t know,” you admitted, fidgeting with the stem of your glass. “I guess I don’t think about it much.”
“I do.” Her voice softened, and she tilted her head, the firelight catching the sharp angles of her face. “I think about how strange it is that out of everyone I could’ve met, it was you.”
Your heart skipped, and you forced a laugh to break the tension creeping into the room. “You make it sound like fate or something.”
“Maybe it is.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and impossibly sincere. You wanted to laugh it off again, but her gaze pinned you in place. It was as if she’d stripped away every wall you’d carefully built, leaving you bare and vulnerable under her scrutiny.
Your grip tightened around the glass, your pulse hammering in your ears. It’s just the wine, you told yourself for the hundredth time, clinging to the excuse like a lifeline. But deep down, you knew better. It wasn’t the wine. It was her.
And then she said it.
“You’re so guarded,” Caitlyn murmured, her eyes never leaving yours. “Like you’re afraid to let anyone in. But I see you, you know. The real you.”
It was too much. The sincerity in her voice, the way she looked at you, the undeniable pull that had been building since the moment you stepped into her world. Something inside you snapped.
Before you knew what you were doing, you set your glass down and shifted on the couch, crawling toward her. Caitlyn’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise breaking through her calm facade.
And then you kissed her.
It wasn’t tentative or hesitant; it was urgent, born of all the emotions you’d been trying to suppress. Her lips were soft and warm against yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to still.
Caitlyn responded almost instantly, her hands finding your waist as she pulled you closer. The kiss deepened, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind.
You found yourself straddling her, your hands tangled in her hair, both of you lost in the kiss. It was no longer just an exchange of lips—it was desperate, raw, as if every suppressed feeling had finally found its release. The kiss deepened, and time seemed to stretch, until finally, both of you pulled away, gasping for air.
Caitlyn’s eyes locked onto yours, intense and searching, as if silently asking, Was that real? Your breath hitched in your throat, and you swallowed hard. What were you doing? This was supposed to be about the money, nothing more. But how could you reconcile that with the way your heart was racing, the way your body was pulling you closer to hers?
For a moment, doubt crept in, the weight of everything you’d been trying to keep at bay threatening to suffocate you. This was wrong. You shouldn’t be here. But then, Caitlyn tilted your head gently, her lips brushing against your neck, and all those thoughts melted away like ice under a hot sun.
Her touch was electric, igniting something deep inside you. Her kisses trailed down your neck, slow and deliberate, each one sending a shiver down your spine. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and for once, you didn’t care about the consequences. You didn’t care about the deal, the money, or the lines you’d promised yourself you’d never cross. All that mattered was her.
Before you even realized what was happening, you found yourself pressed back against the soft cushions of the couch, Caitlyn above you, her body warm and impossibly close. The world outside the room seemed to fade, the only thing that mattered now was her.
With a soft grunt, she tossed her expensive jacket onto the floor, the fabric crumpling as it landed. Her hands moved to your neck, her lips following closely behind. She pressed gentle, teasing kisses along the length of your jaw, the soft brush of her lips sending a wave of heat down your spine. The feel of her breath against your skin was intoxicating, leaving your thoughts scrambled, your heart pounding in your chest.
You didn’t even realize you were pulling her closer until her body was practically flush against yours. Your hands roamed, as if of their own accord, finding her waist, her back, holding her steady as she kissed you with increasing intensity. Her lips left a trail of fire on your neck, the sensation so distracting you couldn’t think straight.
Every part of you screamed that this was wrong, that it was supposed to be about the money, but with each touch, each kiss, that voice inside you grew quieter, lost to the heat of the moment. You didn’t stop her. You didn’t pull away. Instead, you found yourself sinking deeper into it, unable to resist.
Her fingers moved with a deliberate slowness, grazing your skin as they fumbled with the buttons of your blouse. Each touch sent a shiver through you, and you couldn’t help but watch her, breath catching in your throat. The way she moved—steady, focused, like she knew exactly what she was doing—made everything feel more intense.
Your chest rose and fell with every shaky breath, your heart racing in anticipation. It was as if time had slowed, every second stretching out as she continued, the space between you growing impossibly tight. You found your eyes locked onto hers.
"You're so beautiful," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, as your hand gently reached up to tuck a stray lock of her hair behind her ear.
Her gaze softened, a slow smile curling on her lips as she took in your words. Her eyes roamed over your exposed skin, her fingers brushing lightly across your collarbone, tracing the line of your body as if memorizing every inch of you.
She inched lower, her hands moving with deliberate slowness, stopping just above the waistband of your bottoms. Her gaze never left yours, steady and intense, as she waited for any sign of hesitation. But all you could do was stare back at her, completely lost in the moment. Every thought, every reason you’d given yourself for being here, seemed to fade into the background. It was as if the entire world had disappeared, leaving only the two of you in this electric, heavy silence.
You swallowed, trying to find your bearings, but all you could focus on was the weight of her gaze, the way her touch lingered in the air. For the first time, you weren’t sure where this was heading, or if it even mattered.
"May I?" She asks for permission to slip your bottoms off. You hummed in response.
With a trembling hand, you slowly nodded, giving Caitlyn the unspoken permission she sought. As your bottoms slid down the length of your legs, the cool air of the room brushed against your skin, sending a peculiar tingle through every nerve ending.
Her eyes roamed over your bare form, taking in every curve and contour as if committing it to memory. She bit her lower lip, a soft sigh escaping her as she drank in the sight of you. Slowly, she began to unbutton her own blouse, her movements deliberate and seductive.
As the fabric fell open, revealing the smooth skin of her chest, she allowed the blouse to slide off her shoulders, joining your discarded bottoms on the floor. She unhooked her bra next, her breasts finally free.
It's clear she's proud of how she looks and It's also clear she knows you're conscious of yours. She was going to make sure you felt the most beautiful and desirable woman alive after this, because to Caitlyn Kiramman, that's what you are.
She gently ran her fingers along your collarbone, tracing the curve of your breasts without touching them directly, teasing you with her nearness. "Do you see how perfect you are?" She murmured, her voice low and husky. She wanted you to feel adored, worshipped.
She moved lower, her gaze locked on yours as she reached out to gently grasp your hands in hers. With a soft smile, she brought your hands up to her face, pressing a gentle kiss to your palms before laying them against her cheeks. "You're perfect"
With that, she leaned forward, her lips brushing against your inner thighs as she speaks against your skin. "So soft, so sweet." She kisses and nuzzles your thighs before finally pressing her mouth against your folds. Caitlyn's tongue dives in, licking and sucking at your pussy with intense focus.
"A-ah... Cait-"
She moans against you as she tastes your wetness, her tongue swirling around your clit with increasing pressure. Your legs tremble and your hips buck forward, pressing yourself against her face. Caitlyn grips your thighs tighter, holding you in place as she devours you.
"Mmm, you taste even better than I'd imagined," Caitlyn murmurs against your folds, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine. She continues to lick and suck, her tongue plunging in and out of your pussy, fucking you with her mouth.
You're panting and moaning loudly now, your fingers gripping her hair tightly as you pull her face closer. "God... C-Caitlyn," you whimper, your back arching off the bed as she curls her tongue inside you, hitting that spot that drives you wild.
Caitlyn's eyes flutter closed in bliss as she feels you tightening around her tongue. She knows you're close. She sucks your clit hard, flicking the tip of her tongue over it rapidly. Your legs shake violently and you let out a scream of pleasure as your orgasm rips through you.
"So beautiful..."
As the waves of your climax subside, Caitlyn slowly pulls back, licking her lips hungrily. She sits up, her nipples hardened with arousal, and swiftly removes her remaining bottoms. Naked now, she crawls back onto the couch, positioning herself between your still trembling thighs.
Caitlyn spreads your legs wider, her own pussy glistening with arousal. She grasps your inner thighs, holding them apart as she positions herself. With a satisfied smile, she presses her own folds against yours, the heat and wetness of her pussy scissoring against your sensitive folds.
You gasp as you feel the warmth and pressure of her pussy against yours, your fingers digging into the couch cushions.
"Oh my god," you breathe out, your eyes locking with hers. She starts to move her hips in a slow, sensual grind, creating delicious friction between your bare pussies.
Caitlyn's hips move faster, the room filling with the wet, smacking sounds of your intertwined folds rubbing together. She wraps her arms around your legs, pulling them up higher onto her shoulders, allowing her deeper access. "You like that?"
"Yes, fuck yes!" you cry out, your head thrown back in ecstasy. The sensation of Caitlyn's pussy rubbing against yours is overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. You can feel her wetness soaking through yours, the heat and pressure building to an intense level.
Caitlyn's movements become more frantic, her breath coming in short gasps as she chases her own orgasm. She leans forward, her mouth finding yours in a fierce, passionate kiss as she continues to scissor your pussy with her own. The dual stimulation is too much for both of you.
Feeling the blue haired girl's intense passion, you break the kiss, pushing her back gently yet firmly. She falls onto the couch cushions, a look of surprise and excitement flashing across her face. Taking charge, you kneel between her spread legs, your mouth watering at the sight of her dripping pussy.
"Yes..." she breathes out, propping herself up on her elbows to watch you. Her legs tremble slightly as you lower your head, and she can already feel the heat of your breath against her sensitive folds. Her hips lift involuntarily, eager for your touch, "Please..."
You part her slick folds with your fingers, revealing her swollen clit. Without hesitation, you flatten your tongue and lick a long, slow stripe up her center, tasting her sweet juices. Caitlyn's back arches off the couch, a loud moan escaping her lips, "Oh god, yes!"
You continue your assault on her pussy with fervor, your tongue circling her sensitive clit before sucking it gently into your mouth. Caitlyn writhes beneath you, her hands fisting in your hair as she grinds her hips against your face. "Don't stop, fuck don't stop!"
Her moans grow louder as you increase the pressure, your fingers joining your tongue as you thrust them in and out of her wet heat while sucking relentlessly on her throbbing clit. She's practically sobbing with pleasure.
Catching you off guard, she whispers, "Not yet," and gently pushes you back down to lie on the couch. She quickly moves around, positioning herself between your legs, her eyes locked with yours. "My turn," she says with a playful smile, licking her fingers before slowly sliding them inside you.
You feel a mix of surprise and desire as she takes control again. Her fingers, slick with her own saliva, slide easily into your tight pussy, scissoring and stretching you open. You let out a soft gasp, your back arching slightly as she starts to pump her fingers in and out of you.
Keeping eye contact, she adds a third finger, her thumb circling your clit. You moan loudly, your hips moving in rhythm with her thrusts. "You're gorgeous" she breathes out, her other hand casually squeezing one of your breasts as she continues to fuck you with her fingers.
"Don't hold back... let me hear how good this feels." curling her fingers up to brush against your most sensitive spot as she talks Her free hand moves to your clit, circles it firmly while pumping her fingers faster.
"Aah- Cait... F-Feels s'good..."
Her fingers piston in and out faster, knuckles deep now, stretching you wider than ever before. Her thumb finds your sweet spot and rubs rhythmically as she curls her fingers inside you, trying to mimic the shape of something else.
Fingers pumping in and out of you at a quickening pace, you can feel them getting wider inside you as she curls them up, hitting that spot deeper each time. You whimper and squirm beneath her touch, trying to pull your legs up to give her better access.
A satisfied smirk crosses her face at your responsiveness. She uses her free hand to push your legs higher, opening you wider.
Her pace quickens, the wet sound of her fingers sliding in and out of you filling the room.
Her fingers continue to drill into your pussy, curling up to rub against your g-spot with relentless precision. With a particularly hard stroke, your body tenses up and suddenly you're squirting hard, a powerful stream of fluid gushing out of your pussy and coating Caitlyn's hand and fingers.
Catching your eye, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips as she feels your warm fluids coating her hand "Oh, my... look at what you just did for me..." slowly licks her fingers clean.
"Oh my god- I've never..." You gasp.
“Well, I’m glad I’m the first,” Caitlyn smiles, her voice soft as she leans in, her fingers brushing against your skin. The warmth of her body next to yours feels oddly comforting. She wraps her arm around you, pulling you closer as you both settle into the couch.
For a moment, the only sound is the soft hum of the music playing in the background and the gentle rhythm of your breathing. You let yourself relax, your head resting against her shoulder, and for once, you let go of all the worries you’ve been holding onto.
But as you lie there, nestled in the comfort of her embrace, something starts to pull at you—an unsettling thought.
The haze of warmth and affection is fleeting, and suddenly, reality crashes in. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be here, wrapped up in her like this, enjoying her company as if it were something real.
You shift slightly, pulling your head away from her shoulder as a wave of guilt rushes through you. You’re reminded of why you’re here in the first place—why you agreed to this whole arrangement. It was never about her. It was never supposed to be about her. You needed the money.
Your gaze drifts, and your eyes land on the envelope of cash sitting innocently on the coffee table beside the wine glasses.
It’s like a punch to the gut. The money. That’s why you agreed to this. Why you came back. Not because you wanted to be here with her, not because of the connection you’ve started to feel, but because you needed the cash.
The reality sinks in, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. You turn your head to look at Caitlyn, but her face is still soft with contentment, her eyes closed in peaceful oblivion to the internal war waging within you.
You want to believe that there’s more to this, that maybe there’s something real between you two. But you know better. This was always just a transaction. It was just business.
But why does it feel so much more than that?