In the afternoon of the next day, Dahlia finds herself yearning for something more, a burning desire that has consumed her thoughts. She reclines on her bed, her laptop resting beside her. On one side of the split screen, she's captivated by a collection of pictures featuring Michael Atlas. His enigmatic smile and magnetic presence have her transfixed, her heart quickening with every image. Although she's wary that this might be her not yet forgotten college lover, her inner woman still betrays herself to him, even without knowing who he is. She traces the contours of his face with her eyes, her fingers itching to touch the screen, yearning for a connection that remains just out of reach.
On the other side of the screen, a different kind of desire unfolds. It's an intimate, unspoken longing that courses through her veins. She gazes at the explicit video before her, losing herself in the sensual narrative. It's a scene that ignites her passions and fantasies.
The bald pornography actor fucks just the way I want to be fucked right now, I do not want to be allowed to move when I want to, or to breathe when I want to, or to climax when I want to.
Dahlia imagines herself as the woman in the video, experiencing every touch, every whisper of desire as if it were her own, every thrust, every drop. Her cheeks flush with a mixture of guilt and arousal as she loses herself in this tantalizing daydream.
As the video plays on, her heart races, and her breathing quickens. Dahlia is lost in the throes of passion, the intensity of the moment enveloping her. Tears well up in her eyes, her emotions overwhelming her. She tries not to scream, gripping the bedsheets tightly as her entire body quakes with intense sensations.
She begins to play her own scene in her head, transforming what she's watching into her own thoughts, but with whom? The face of the man in her head isn't clear, but he is there, and she feels him. She feels his hands slide under her shirt, lifting it up over her head, exposing her breasts to him. He cups them tenderly, squeezing them gently, his thumbs brushing against her nipples.
His lips brush against hers, teasing her, tempting her, tempting her to open her mouth for him.
He kisses her deeply, exploring her mouth with his tongue. Her lips part eagerly for him, welcoming him into her mouth, inviting him to explore her body further.
His hand slides down her stomach, his fingers tracing along the curve of her hip, sliding underneath the waistband of her panties.
He touches her intimately, caressing her through the thin fabric, teasing her. She moans softly, her hips arching towards him, begging him for more.
He slips one finger inside her, making her gasp, and then two, his fingers exploring her wetness. He pulls away from her, leaving her wanting, her legs trembling as she waits for him to return.
He moves back to her mouth again, kissing her hungrily, his tongue exploring her mouth. He tastes so good. She can feel his cock pressing against her thigh, hard and thick.
He breaks their kiss, trailing his tongue across her neck, biting her lightly. She arches her back, pulling him closer to her, desperate for his touch.
She holds her rose in place directly on her clit, no longer turning it on and off in a rhythm, but not placing it directly where she wants it to build that climax she can already feel digging its way higher and higher, the pleasure that had been building inside her finally reaches its climax, and she explodes in a moment of emotional release that leaves her gasping for breath, her body trembling with raw desire. In that instant, she's both vulnerable and liberated, torn between the depths of her longing and the raw, visceral ecstasy that washes over her.
Dahlia sat back, her fingers trembling as she tried to regain her composure. She glanced at the time on her laptop and realized that she had wasted hours getting lost in the fantasies of strangers. It was a guilty pleasure she had kept hidden from the world, and yet, it was something she couldn't seem to resist.
As the explicit video came to an end, Dahlia was left feeling a strange mix of satisfaction and emptiness. The actors on the screen had experienced a moment of intense pleasure, but it was nothing more than a performance. It was a reminder that her own desires and passions remained unfulfilled, locked away in a world of secrets and solitude.
Dahlia tried to shake off the feelings that had taken hold of her. She knew she needed to get ready for her new job, and this was not the way to start her day.
With a deep breath, she closed her laptop and forced herself to focus on the reality that awaited her. Her new role as Michael Atlas's personal assistant was a golden opportunity, a chance to step out of her comfort zone and into the world of luxury and wealth.
Dahlia hopped out of bed and headed to the shower, the warm water washing away the lingering sensations from her earlier indulgence. She couldn't afford any distractions on her first day.
After her shower, she picked out a professional yet stylish outfit and got dressed. As she applied her makeup, she couldn't help but think about the enigmatic Michael Atlas. She had seen his photos, read about his success, and heard the rumors about his wealth and power. He was a man of mystery, and she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to work closely with him.