The two ladies have opposite attitudes towards the other. Evennette is curious about the type of relationship between N’Ïrk and Æ’Vérrya. The two looked so passionate and intimate that she felt a pang of jealousy.
While the Foreman’s silhouette is marvelous and feminine. It is not a Sexy Bombshell like Evennette. Nevertheless. Her fierce sharp face, long pointy ears, demure deanor, and graceful gestures, make her undoubtedly attractive.
Dissonant to the Caral Bimbo. Æ’Vérrya is wary, trying to discern why and how, two people can see through her camouflage.
This lead her to a possibility. The result of a combination between the youngster’s Black Scleras, in conjunction with the Synesthesia, hinting to Æ’Vérrya that Hát’Thöry, the Treasurer, can also ignore the camouflage.
"It’s ti for your tournant, My Platinum Star?". Asks N’Ïrk, rotating ninety degrees Æ’Vérrya’s sitting posture, so he can have a clear view of Evennette.
He let his right fingers to trail the red skinned back of Æ’Vérrya, her spine arching with a delicious goosebump that numbs her thought process, ignoring when the young man’s hand rest ober the firm ass cheek, shalessly groping Æ’Vérrya’s rear to his heart content.
The beautiful fra of the Feminine Foreman is constantly trying to not squirm, and lt under the tentative and tantalizing touches the young man performs on her.
He clearly is a master in the art of driving his sexual partners into a crazy state in which the seek and crave pleasure.
A misunderstanding that is not easy to overco. N’Ïrk doesn’t do it concisely with that purpose, is a sole consequence of his previous lifestyle.
In the Outposts, it is not known when death lurks, nor who will et their end, which, combined with N’Ïrk’s simplicity and straightforward attitude, made him an unpleasantly hasty man in certain areas, having to learn how to be more asured in his interactions.
Of course, that doesn’t help him much, since he decided to be truthful to himself and do whatever he wants, whenever he desires.
"Not yet, Coach. The preliminary stage starts in half an hour, but i have to be online twenty minutes earlier. anwhile, Sweet Cheeks is going to prepare a al to welco the new mbers".
"Wonderful". He gestures Evennette to co closer, separating his legs.
The Caral Bimbo bites seductively her plump dark brown lips, sitting on N’Ïrk’s left thigh, leaning towards him, resting her head on the young man’s shoulder.
"Coach~". The sultry purr of Evennette, awakes Æ’Vérrya from her ecstatic reverie, jealousy brimming from her inquisitive but curious stare.
N’Ïrk has agreed to have an engagent with her. However, is evident that the young man is the one calling the shots. He is not «Her Fiance» per se. If not the other way around, she is «His Fiancee».
The realization hit Æ’Vérrya like a sniper’s perfect headshot, and if she doesn’t step up her seduction ga. She could be reduced to a re Concubine. Or worse, a Trophy Wife.
The shaful and preposterous labels haunt her with dread and distress. The concern is too real, fogging her mind with questions and doubts.
Æ’Vérrya’s experience in romantic matters is literally null. Unbeknown to her, Evennette is not so different, though the Caral Bimbo exudes sexiness in her wake, misleading the Feminine Foreman, due to how natural, relaxed and confident is Evennette’s motion.
The two virgin damsel lock their eyes, and Evennette shakes her head at Æ’Vérrya’s tenseness, the apparent denial is neither a condescending insult nor a warning. If not a friendly advice followed by a voiceless suggestion.
A single dreamily breath, worshiping N’Ïrk’s amused smirk. the action is replicated by Æ’Vérrya, intensifying the young man’s already spiked excitent, heightening his arousal furthermore with how vigorous, and strangely fulfilling, it feels to be treated with such genuine admiration.
"N’Ïrk is an amazing Coach". Acknowledges Evennette, rubbing her nose on the man’s neck, sniffing the feral manly fragrance emanating from the male’s body.
"Be proactive". Evennette’s kisses go up, from the man’s collarbone, to the neck, followed by the cheek and finally the edge of N’Ïrk’s lips, teasing him with tender playful pecks.
"You can let him guide you".
The young man grabs Evennette’s nape, touching the talized platinum hair, it’s silk and smooth texture is constrain in the man’s hold, orienting the female’s head to trap the delicious chocolate lips.
"Or. Be manhandled". The kiss turns savage, almost aggressive when N’Ïrk tugged the hair of Evennette, accessing the vulnerable neck, descending to bite the lady’s dress, freeing the left breast and roughly sucking on the stiff little knob.
*Ahh~*. "The decision is yours, and have in mind this... , There is no wrong stepy. Both are learning about the other, communication can simplify the process, but only if you are willing to open up for him...". *Ahh~*.
The moan interrupts Evennette, and Æ’Vérrya confess the obvious. "I am not ready to give away my Virginity".
"That makes us two... , Do you see him annoyed or disappointed?".
The young man is hungrily nibbling the chocolate nipples of Evennette, but his gaze is glued to the struggling expression on Æ’Vérrya’s face.
"N’Ïrk has other options".
Evennette scoffs. "Those other options, are not «Us». It may sound egocentric and arrogant, but it is not. N’Ïrk is direct, there is no hidden aning in whatever he says, or does. Why would we doubt?. When he is so Pure, Adaptable and Straightforward".
Sliding off from N’Ïrk’s lap, Evennette gets comfortable on the left seat next to her Coach. Leaving Æ’Vérrya with conflicted thoughts, while Choco Lips covers her topless breast by fixing her dress, being ready for the preliminary rounds of her gaming tournant.
"I wish you could lactate". Comnts N’Ïrk, as he pays attention to the Smartv’s screen.
"You have to wait another two years for that to happen naturally Coach. But if you are interested. Sweet Cheeks can produce a large quantity of milk right now...".
Faking extre obliviousness, the Caral Bimbo demurely covers her mouth with one hand. *Oops!*. "I was supposed not to ntion that fact, clumsy ".
Evennette playfully paws her head, and winks with her tongue out, as if she just pulled out an innocent prank.
He snorts, and she leans to peck the left cheek of her Coach for good luck, instantly focusing on her gaplay...
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