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She Tried
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2024-09-10 13:37:38It wasn't too bad to find a place that was spacious, but also had barriers around it.
Moreau was transfixed by the shape of the iron nets in front of her. Everyone would surely relax here, enjoying a long day by throwing the ball into the hoop or kicking it into the wicket. It was a complete package. A far cry from the ice sheet and worn-out building where se'd made her choice. "It's Abi." Mrs. Smift's voice pulled Moreau to the surface. She blinked briefly, then rushed to follow the woman's gaze. A body sat quietly, leaning against the mesh of the fence. The man's face was almost upturned—no—it was some kind of uncontrollable need to sleep that it was upturned there. "What is he doing in this place alone?" Mrs. Smift must have seen clearly, as she deliberately asked the question and stepped faster. Morea
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"Position your hands closer, Abi. You can't possibly feel awkward with your stepdaughter, can you?" Mrs. Smift had repeatedly said the same thing, but Moreau still felt that her stepfather's tension would not come between them. This was indeed the limit of tolerance that the man had worked out. It was not a good thing to be in an intimate position in front of several people, even if Abihirt's request had been approved. For single shots, the man only showed a quarter of the body. Meanwhile, in a two—person pose... their relationship was made so close, especially Mrs. Smift had to think of ways to minimize the chances of Abihirt's face being caught on screen. It's hard to negotiate with a decision that is so absolute. At least it went almost without a hitch. Mrs. Smift seemed to have deliberately added a new request. Abihirt's arms were required to cling tighter to Moreau's flat stomach, while the man hid his face deeply
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It was now almost impossible for Moreau to detect her stepfather snatching at Mrs. Smift's question. Abihirt was too cold. There was no match considering the man was not in a very good mood either. "Relax, Abi. Your furious wife won't know." Moreau shook her head faintly, desperate to deal with the woman who liked to call Barbara that. Who knew how her mother would react if she found out about this. She didn't want to overthink things. Didn't want to think about whether Barbara would turn around and give Mrs. Smift an additional, appropriate name or end up furious if she found out Moreau was on the cover of a magazine representing the brand underneath the clothes on her body. "Madam, everything is ready." Fernandes emerges from the back of the studio. The man with glasses and a plain hat on top of his head immediately waltzed to the shooting point. They had to
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Commands were given in turn. Moreau was aware of the direction of the camera, so was obedient to Mrs. Smift's statement. She did hold her breath, and was even quite thrilled to be going through such an intimate position in front of several people. They might have faced something more than this, but never expected it to be here. So hollow was the rest of the sound around. Moreau's feelings grew even more uncontrollable when... the faintest touch of a rough jaw touched the surface of her face. The thing that made her try so hard was still studying the smooth texture of Abihirt's dark hair, just like the first time she did that action that night. Almost incoherently. Hoping that it would be over soon. "The jacket is finished, madam." That was what Moreau knew; vaguely. On the other hand, however, she got the hint to drop a touch on her stepfather's shoulder line. The voice from the camera devic
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Moreau's body jerked against the wall as she faced the powerful lips. The faint light in the dimly lit room was eager to record the shadows of their bodies touching each other. The tip of Abihirt's hand was almost all the way down... from the ribcage, and now the man dipped a knuckle into her hair, pressing Moreau closer, savoring the sultry sensation of the depriving lip movement. Heat seemed to wrap around their passion simply to strip each other naked. Moreau was not brave enough to do so. Instead, hanging on to a desperate situation as the urge to strip the fabric on her body left Abihirt trapped; which piece of clothing would the man remove first, but then Moreau was surprised by a raised arm. Abihirt ripped off the top, then tossed it around. There was still neither bra nor soft fabric pants left when the man lifted Moreau up and dropped her on
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Moreau looked up. The continuous trail of wetness became unavoidable and was in the background. She felt like she would be crushed. However, that was exactly what Abihirt was aiming for. To stimulate and unexpectedly turn her body face down on the bed. She looked straight ahead to find Abihirt trying to strip off the remaining fabric. Her underwear had fallen off and was probably already stranded on the floor of the red room. An unexpected lash, stinging and hot, made Moreau flinch in surprise. She held her breath as the silence around them grew faint. The reaction that surfaced was still the same as the first when a similarly paced blow struck her buttocks. Moreau clenched her fists, determined to keep even the slightest sound from escaping her lips. She even lowered her head, face down. Letti
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Moreau hesitated, afraid, imagining that Abihirt would reject her request outright. The man remained silent, waiting for a while as if thinking about the pending parts between them. There was no longer anything to question. The desire to make love had been fulfilled. Giddily Moreau had indeed provided the service, though she did not know if her stepfather was satisfied or perhaps... there needed to be a certain debate that she did not find to be an important flow. "This is not a comfortable bed, if you really want to stay the night." Moreau's half-knowledge of anything in the Abihirt residence was not a good prospect. She didn't even understand which 'uncomfortable' part he was referring to, while the bed they had just used felt much softer than the mattress in her own room. Moreau would not deny anything, regardless of whether she overreacted or not. It
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"Where have you been, Abi? I've been calling you, but your cell phone is always busy." Barbara's enthusiasm was unbeatable as she blocked her husband from the entrance. Abihirt was always immaculate and there was also never a hint of influence as the man walked in with a flat expression on his face. She immediately took the arm that was stretched out beside her husband's body, clasping it tightly as they walked together into the room. Honestly, Barbara could guess where Abihirt was going, but she did want to add a sensitive narrative. Knowing her husband didn't hold much conversation other than loosening the shirt collar and stripping off the contrasting black suit. A combination far different from Samuel's demeanor. So opposite that Barbara didn't harbor any rumblings of guilt when she was really just looking for an outlet. Being with Abihirt could put the economic market on a substantial line. While it was onl
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With her cell phone clutched tightly in her hand, Barbara shook her head vaguely. It was important to wait for Abihirt to calm down a bit as the expression on the man's face was still so dark. Although she was not sure, but Barbara still suspected that—if Abihirt seemed to be holding something back. Her husband immediately left the place last time, even closing the door quite roughly at least. The air in the crevice of Barbara's lips immediately rushed out. First she made sure the bathroom faucet was running. Then she looked down at her cell phone with one name left behind. She turned to call the man and got a response just seconds into the wait. "You almost got me caught." Barbara dropped her butt to the edge of the bed and massaged her forehead gently. Samuel grinned, as if the man loved a challenge. If Samuel had experienced the shock of Abihir
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[Abi, can I borrow your phone to send you my pictures from the desert ....] Barbara's whole body boiled at the thought of what her logic was unraveling. Abihirt said that the man was still in Dubai; he would be home soon, but it was surprising to find Moreau's voice sneaking in between their conversation. This could not be regretted. No matter how much Barbara tried to deny it. She had sifted through everything that had happened there, clearly... very clearly that Moreau needed photos in the desert to send to the girl's cell phone. Probably no further explanation of what had actually happened was expected. Hell, Barbara hadn't even said a word and demanded that Abihirt talk about everything her husband had been hiding, including when Abihirt claimed to be unaware of Moreau's whereabouts the last time she had called the man while talking about her daughter's whereabouts. However, the call was unexpectedly dropped. Really, Barbara couldn't accept that one lit
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However, for a moment Moreau turned her head towards herstep father when she touched the doorknob. Abihirt unexpectedly grabbed the man's cell phone on the nightstand. Perhaps there was an important rush, which indirectly reminded Moreau that there was one thing—she had forgotten to say to her stepfather. This wouldn't take long. She would just wash her face with a splash of water, then return to the man. Indeed, not for long. When Moreau looked at her reflection in the mirror, the first thing she did was take a deep breath. All the devices here belonged only to Abihirt. She would brush her teeth, later, at home. Now it was best to approach the man on the bed. Suddenly Moreau's inner explosion became enthusiastic. She had been looking forward to sending pictures in the desert that day, after starting to operate the new cell phone her stepfather had given her. Hoping Abihirt wouldn't mind when she mentioned her wildly raging goals. Moreau hurriedly crossed t
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Although it wasn't .... Moreau felt something heavy pressing around her body. She blinked a few times to realize that the habitual light from the window was trying to penetrate through the dangling curtains. It was already morning. It seemed like last night's request for sleep had put her into a deep slumber. Moreau would have nothing to say about that. It was all in the past and there was no need to relive something that always ended in uncertainty in the end. As she tried to shift, she sucked in as much air as she could, wanting to stretch her stiff bones a little, but soon realized that there was hardly any room to move. Someone seemed to have trapped her; inhaling the masculine scent that rushed in, until Moreau unintentionally touched a strand of hair—it felt smooth, and she kept brushing her palm gently there. This seemed to leave a certain sensation, not knowing why the corners of her lips instinctively curled up slightly; perhaps it was because she
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"Why do you keep squeezing me like this?" It took a lot of courage and determination for Moreau to finally ask the question in a half-whisper. She wanted to look back, but the clear presence of Abihirt's face made their cheeks touch. The man would certainly not say anything. Moreau instinctively let out a rough breath; letting Abihirt position himself better and now the man's face was almost trapped in the crook of her neck. Abihirt was not sleeping. That was the least Moreau could feel. Probably not going to fall asleep anytime soon either, though the man admitted to not doing much of anything himself after their long journey. After all, there were things left between them that Moreau wasn't going to just reveal. It was still about Froy and she would try to find clues. "I thought of something." Moreau began with a sense of alarm rising swiftly in her mind. When Abihirt walked into the trap, she was sure the man wouldn't suddenly become very quiet.
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It was fun teasing Abihirt. That was how Moreau felt. This time she was really daring. Really going to be defiant with her stepfather and tentatively tugging at the fabric to leave only a contrasting lacy undergarment. Letting a pause occur for a moment, then hesitantly glancing at Abihirt as she had to carefully cover some parts of her body in front of the man. She was the one trying to provoke something to explode in Abihirt, but didn't want her mother's husband to be brutalized and left unrescued. Now, as she slowly inserted her hands into the holes of the cloth—wearing the T-shirt given by the man appropriately. It was done. Moreau's body was wrapped. She seemed to be drowning. Immediately looked down and witnessed how the edge of the cloth was definitely touching her thighs. Abihirt correctly guessed not to add pants. Just a thin satin undergarment and it made Moreau feel comfortable. "I'm going to bed now," she said, hurriedly looking up, only to find
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Moreau looked down; realizing that she needed to do the same, but her suitcase and all her new clothes, which he had prepared when they were about to head to Dubai, were still in the car. Abihirt had given no clue about the items left outside. Perhaps he would prepare them later, when they were fully prepared and Moreau only had to wait for him to finish the remaining parts. She would not sit idly by, soon catching up to wake up and applying attention to the last time Barbara's husband's sturdy shoulders were still visible behind. Perhaps too presumptuous. Yes, it was. However, it was better than never. Every detail of Abihirt's actions was so unpredictable. The man had dressed up in an instant right there. That, at least, needed to be emphasized. There was nothing to regret, even though Moreau felt very nervous as those gray eyes stared at her intently. "You said you were still sleepy. Why aren't you sleeping?" Abihirt's deep, hoarse voice sounded as if a mistak
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"I'm so sleepy and lazy to walk, can you just carry me?" Moreau did not want to take this too far when she could hardly protest to her stepfather; regarding the man's decision to be here, in the courtyard of the luxurious mansion, instead of returning to the house where they lived. Perhaps this would be enough of an understanding. Abihirt also did not show any reluctance to simply comply with what she had just tried to initiate between them, which silently made Moreau curl her lips slightly after detecting how the man got out of the car, then took a stance of taking her body—clinging tightly with both hands fully attached there. Moreau instinctively held on to her stepfather's neck. She looked up. Admiring every detail on the man's face. There was almost nothing to miss. It felt nice to imagine being on a date and Abihirt being a good lover, doing what she wanted. Though... that might not be true. That man was still her stepfather. He would always b
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"I was just wondering how I could change my husband. What do you think about having child?" Barbara asked slowly. There was a look of regret when she said this. Samuel wouldn't understand her and she had no intention of telling him more. "A child from me or Abi?" Instead of offering suggestions, the man asked as if there were so many options, but Barbara needed to pick one. Yes, only one and no one could change the game she was about to start. "It's definitely Abi. He's my husband," she said indisputably. "But I touch you a lot." Woe betide her; Samuel had a way of simply knocking down the hopes she had built up on so many levels. Barbara exhaled harshly; feeling the need to raise the prospect of reality not being forgotten. "Even though you touch me often. Still, Abi is my husband. He touches me too. You're even." "Not even. You yourself admitted that Abi has been busy with a lot of work lately and it made you look for an escape. I've al
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"Do you like cruise ship travel, Honey?" The sea breeze rushed across the surface of Barbara's body, leaving a sweeping impression that was too forced, but she was enjoying every bit of it here with Samuel and he had just whispered very softly in her face. Barbara smiled slightly at the feel of the man's arms reaching out tentatively, until the moving face had nuzzled around her neck. "Don't you do that, Sam!" warned Barbara after detecting that Samuel was about to take a dangerous action. She didn't want him to leave a reddish mark and if there was ever an urge to return home, she feared she would not be able to hide it from Abihirt's view. There was no word from her cold husband after the last time they had a phone conversation. Even Barbara needed to be pushed through a determined struggle until Abihirt was willing to accept a voice call and even then they spoke all too briefly. She was not satisfied yet. A little unwilling that Abihirt had gone on a trip to Dubai when s
