Ever since she found out her producer was married, Madoka had been simmering deep inside her heart, a feeling she didn't even want to put a name to.
Was it irritation, jealousy—or something even darker?
But one night, after work, when they were alone in the quiet car, her emotions finally reached their limits. Waiting at a red light at a traffic light, Madoka spoke without the slightest hesitation:
"If you don't want my future to be wasted...be mine tonight."
From the start, there was no room for refusal. In the dimly lit car, Madoka's pale fingers gently tugged at the producer's tie.
Her cool hands guided his hands, pressing them against her soft breasts. With each stroke of her nipple, her lips parted slightly, and the moment his gentle penetration reached her private parts, her juices slowly began to flow.
"...Shut up, and move."
She ordered in a low, passionate voice, lowering her hips and welcoming him deeper. Her usually expressionless face flushed with pleasure, her brows twisting.
With each repeated pounding into the depths of her uterus, Madoka's suppressed cries filled the car, and soon her deepest depths were filled with hot, milky liquid.
From then on, Madoka called him several times a week. It became a rule between the two of them that he would use the girl's body as he pleased in her room before returning home to his wife.
Every time the producer's expression twisted with a sense of guilt and pleasure, a faint satisfaction lurked in the depths of Madoka's cold eyes.
The relationship that was supposed to have been forcefully taken had, before long, turned into chains from which neither could escape.

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感谢分享，祝身体健康，心想事成

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作者熱愛 製作三部 收了

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Thank you!!

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