The promise Claudia had made on the edge of the bathtub, "Not until we are free," broke under the weight of urgency. The 48-hour deadline imposed by Eleanor was not just a threat to Mario's freedom but a countdown for Claudia's containment. Desire had transformed into a vital necessity, an act of rebellion that could not wait for the perfection of escape. If freedom was uncertain, pleasure had to be now.
The air in Mario's room was thick with the scent of antiseptic soap, the only trace of the infirmary, and the faint floral perfume that always accompanied Claudia, now intoxicating. The dim afternoon light filtered through the curtains, drawing golden shadows across Mario's expectant face, as he lay back in bed. His senses, sharpened by immobility, perceived every detail of Claudia with an almost painful intensity.
Claudia entered the room. This time, her smile was not professional; it was a thin mask over determination. She wore the uniform, but the tight cotton blouse moved with a fluidity that betrayed her nervousness. Mario noticed that her dark eyes, bright with a mix of defiance and surrender, no longer attempted to hide anything.
"Today is not just any day, my love," she whispered, stopping beside the bed. Her voice was a husky whisper, already broken by excitement. That word, "love," was the code that activated the game. Claudia leaned in, resting a hand on the mattress. The brush of her full breasts against the sheet was the trigger. Mario held his breath, feeling his cock, the last vestige of his physical autonomy, harden with a brutal urgency.
"We are going to explore the true limit," she murmured, her lips so close to his ear that Mario could feel the heat of her breath. "And today, darling, risk is the only rule."
Her fingers, without the slightest sign of hesitation, began to unbutton the fine silk shirt of Mario's. One by one, the fabric opened, revealing his sculpted torso. Then came her own surrender: Claudia unbuttoned her own blouse. She let the nurse's gown slip down her shoulders, tangling in her arms before falling to the floor. She stood before him in a bra and skirt, her hard nipples pressing against the black lace.
"You like betrayal, don't you?" she asked, knowing the answer. Her hands rested on the curve of her own hips, slowly rising to brush the edge of her breasts. Mario could only nod, his eyes fixed on the exposed intimacy.
Claudia smiled, an expression of absolute dominance. She knelt by the bed, the skirt taut over her thighs. Her hands slid under the sheets, searching. When her fingers brushed Mario's erect member, an involuntary moan escaped her.
"God, you're on fire!" she exclaimed, closing her hand around his cock with a pressure that was a balm and a torture. "Hard as marble, darling."
Mario gasped. The sensation was overwhelming. The total physical contact, denied for months of strict professionalism, was a jolt. Claudia's fingers stroked his length, lubricating the tip with a bead of pre-cum before beginning to masturbate him with slow, perfect movements.
"I want to hear you say it," she whispered, her lips brushing his earlobe. "I want you to beg me to devour you."
Mario tried to close his eyes, but Claudia's hand on his chin forced him to look at her.
"Tell me," Claudia demanded, her voice a whip of authority.
"Please," he managed to say, his voice broken. "Suck it. I need your mouth."
The triumphant smile was the last veil of her professionalism. Without looking away, Claudia leaned down. Her warm breath made him shiver. Then, her tongue emerged, flat and wet, licking from the base of his scrotum to the tip. Mario arched his back, his inert hands clenching into powerless fists.
Claudia did not stop. Her mouth opened, engulfing the head of his cock, her lips sealing around the glans. The moisture, the heat, and the rhythm enveloped her. Her hands worked the rest of his anatomy: one massaged his testicles with precision, the other wrapped around the base, increasing the pressure.
"You taste so good, so manly," she moaned, lifting her head to speak, her saliva glistening on her lips.
The pleasure was agonizing. Mario was about to overflow.
"You're going to come in my mouth, my love!" Claudia announced, lifting her head with a wet pop. "But not yet. Now, I take control."
She sat up, leaving his throbbing member exposed. She removed her skirt and lace thong without modesty, revealing her pleasure center, already shiny and wet.
"Look how open I am for you," she said, sliding a finger between her folds and bringing it to her mouth to suck her own nectar. "Now I'm going to sit on your cock, and you are going to fuck me as if this were our last night."
With a quiet strength, Claudia helped him sit up against the pillows. Then, with a lewd smile, she straddled him. She took his cock with one hand, guiding it toward her slippery entrance.
"Like this, darling," she whispered, lowering herself onto him with a slowness that tortured him. "This is how you steal me."
Mario felt his glans sinking into the tight warmth, how her internal muscles embraced him. Claudia moaned, her nails digging into his shoulders as she let herself drop completely, until her hips collided with his.
"God, you're so deep inside me!" she gasped, beginning to move. Her hips rotated, her breasts bounced, the moisture of their bodies echoing in the room.
Mario could not move, but the ferocity with which Claudia rode him, the constant squeeze of her thighs and the steady heat of her inside, was the most liberating sensation he had felt since the accident.
"Harder!" he demanded, his voice a growl. "Ride me harder, my conspirator!"
Claudia laughed, a sound of promise fulfilled. She increased the rhythm, her hips hitting against his with a carnal and urgent sound. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling just enough. Mario felt the orgasm approaching, an relentless wave.
"I'm going to come!" he warned, his words almost a cry. "I'm going to come inside you!"
"Do it!" Claudia shouted, digging her nails into his skin. "Fill me, my master! I want to feel your hot milk inside me!"
Their movements became frantic. And then, with one last thrust of her hips, Mario felt the orgasm pierce him, his semen spurting in hot streams inside her. Claudia screamed, her body trembling as her own climax shook her, her internal muscles milking him to the last drop.
For a long moment, there was only silence, broken only by their heavy breathing. Claudia collapsed on top of him, her chest crushed against his.
"That," she murmured, lifting her head to look at him with bright eyes, "was worth the risk."
: As silence fell in the room, a sound that did not belong to their bubble of pleasure broke the air: the main door security system alarm sounded, followed by the unmistakable click of Eleanor's private elevator. She wasn't due until the morning. Panic seized Claudia. She sprang up, searching for her clothes.
"Mario, someone is here! It's too soon... and I know it's not Eleanor!"