Syril's head spinned like a tornado as he saw it. A fork, that was the only thing he wanted under the table, not the image that would forever etch in his head for the rest of his stay.
At first, he was uncertain and nervous about this very mission from the system. Apart from being bothered about Amanda's response, Amy was still there. Although what they had wasn't official, no particular declaration of love interests or intention to go further from both parties…
Syril couldn't help feeling obligated to Amy. Besides, they had seen each other several times in the past days and had sex twice. Three times! Adding the first time, the amount of times they had fucked totaled three.
Three times wasn't a joke. It wasn't a normal camaraderie. However, Syril had long made his resolve. Yes, Amy was also his benefactor, a savior, but compared to Amanda and Sherry? Not close.
The convenience store and restaurant runners had been in his life for a long time, helping in ways that should have exceeded others' bounds. Even putting the admission, the new device, and the system unlock Amy had helped with, Sherry and Amanda were still above.
For all he cared, he could have died and even lost the chance to meet Amy if these two weren't in his life.
He told himself he would complete the mission first and if he later becomes a thing with Amy, he would try to explain to her.
'Hopefully, she'll understand.' He told himself.
Now, the scenario painted before him cleared those doubts finally.
He looked again, thinking he probably didn't see well. Perhaps a trick of light?
No, it wasn't. Amanda was badly wet. The shorts that was originally short and translucent couldn't help hide that fact.
It was a complete, messy map of her juice, soaking the area around her genitalia. Her aching clit was fully revealed in the see-through dress, hungry and desirous of touches.
Syril fidgeted with the fork, scrambling up to continue the discussion and pretending he didn't see anything.
No matter how much he tried to resume that touchy conversation, the picture couldn't be replaced in his head.
'Is she wet for me or it's a mess from a recent visit to the toilet?!'
'No, her clitoris… it looked hard and hungry!'
'Fuck! What am I gonna do or say now?
Whilst Syril struggled to maintain composure, Raja was having a good time laughing in his head.
"I… I told you about Clara Vancouver's visit and my soon leave for Greenville, yeah?" He carefully spoke, attempting to look normal when his facial expression was saying otherwise.
"Yeah, what's wrong, dear?" Amanda softly replied, resuming her earlier grasp.
"I-I've been thinking… I never got to thank you properly for all you've done for me…" Syril continued, his tone carrying a heavy, genuine feeling of warmness and appreciation whilst trying to construct words that would lead to exactly what he wanted.
"Oh Syril, that's why you've come here? How many times do you want to tell me that, hm?" She inched closer and ruffled his hair. "I thought you needed help with something."
'Is she still treating me like a kid? Oh my…' Syril's inner turmoil never left him.
The same owner/CEO of Amanda's who was deemed "Soft Coldness" and rumoured to have rejected more than hundred powerful male figures, was the same one ruffling the hair of a eighteen years old teenager.
Syril was in fact accustomed to this. In their joking moments, when no snitchy eyes were looking, Amanda would ruffle Syril's black hair to commend him for a good job.
Now, he needs to remove that perception of 'young and timid' if he wants things to go as planned.
So, he dropped his tone to an almost inaudible one, whispering in what he called a seductive manner.
"Enough? I never got to thank you properly, Amanda. It has always been about you helping me. Can't I help you too?"
Amanda chuckled humorously, not from pride, but the boldness and softness Syril's tone was edged with.
"And how do you think you can help me?" She asked, more amused than ever.
This was Syril's cue.
Fueled by desperation or the feeling he didn't know existed in him? He didn't know.
Syril's hand found her face, gently massaging her cheek pampered with care and expensive skincare products.
She curled into his touch and dragged her chair along, moving closer until her hands wrapped around his neck.
"I've never seen this side of you, Syril. Did you really come because of this or you're tempted by what I'm wearing?" She asked the most sensitive question she had ever asked him.
Syril seriously looked into her beautiful amethyst eyes, startled by the strange question.
At that moment, Syril knew that her guard was slowly chipping away. He could see the vulnerability she had kept away in her eyes, now. He also read that Amanda had intently planned all of this. She was also waiting for him.
But how long? How long had she been nurturing this feeling?
The next words that escaped Syril's mouth were ones that he hadn't planned, words he didn't even know he could say, words that seemed even startling to him.
"No, Amanda. Your choice of attire has nothing to do with this. I've seen you wear tight outfits, seen your entire figure highlighted, and hadn't felt stupid like those rich bastards who come to the restaurant."
"You've always been beautiful and elegant. I guess it just took long for me to see you in this particular way," Syril added.
The words he said were absolutely honest and frightening to him. He would have to confront himself and reflect later.
Now, he needed to give his full attention to this pretty entrepreneur.
"Really? Oh, sweet Syril." Amanda found herself saying, her own head also questioning what was happening and possible secrets they've buried and thought they never felt.
She stared into Syril's black eyes as if planning something she was unsure of.
Syril in turn pulled her closer, one hand now massaging her cheek and the other slowly teasing her 'half exposed' body.
His hand had reached the curve of her waist, teasing, massaging, and sending bolts that resonated with the horny Amanda.
"Syril, if you keep touching me like that, you might bring yourself trouble," Amanda jokingly warned, smiling as her amethyst eyes still held Syril's black.
Syril would've thought she was warning or threatening as the violet-haired beauty characteristically delivers life-threatening warnings with softness that contrasts, if she hadn't curled and melted into his touches.
"Lord, I hope I know what I'm doing." Amanda muttered as she wiggled free from Syril's caressing hands.
She suddenly stood from her seat and moved her hands to the shorts' waistband, pulling it down in one swift move.
She proceeded to shift the food she set on her table space and moved her chair aside. With the aid of the chair, she mounted the table and straddled, one leg on the table, the other on the chair.
"Fuck!" The word slipped out of Syril's mouth before he could stop it.
"Exactly! See the way I'm dripping for you? I've been wet like this since you came," she announced without ceremony, spreading herself open with two fingers, each finger on each fold, displaying her dampened, tight, pink pussy.
Her legs were stretched wide in the straddling position, her thick pussy meat fully exposed to Syril, her juice smeared all over he aching vulva, eagerly waiting to be stretched and fucked.
"I-I've never felt this way in my entire life, never dripped badly for someone. I'm… sorry, but I can't hold it anymore…" Amanda stumbled, her words falling in pieces that could never be retrieved. It wasn't easy to tell, but she also couldn't suffer for long.
"Let me help you."
————~~~~~————~~~~~———
You really want to know how he'll help, huh?
Gifts, Power Stone, Collections! I want all!!!