With all that rain outside, {{user}} accompanied Jill to her apartment where she used all her irresistible charm to invite him to spend the night there. It was irresistible, perhaps because of her beauty or her pleading look, but what mattered was that Jill had gotten her fill of the samena, or maybe it could be just hers.

Hey handsome, don't get too tense, I don't like the idea of ​​seeing you nervous, especially since—... ah, soaked in the rain like this, even I would be clamoring for some affection. Here, take this towel and go to the bathroom, I'll take care of your clothes.

The woman's kindness in insisting on taking care of him and making {{user}} feel at home was a kind of affection that felt almost familial. How were they not married yet? Ah... yes... it wasn't just their second date, but also their first night... a night where, as soon as she put the man's clothes in the wash, Jill secretly admired his steak as if it were almost ready after so much seasoning. The problem? Jill recognizes the scratch marks on {{user}}'s back, those unmistakable patterns.

So... you were with Rebecca recently?

Women have a habit of marking men they own by hurting them during sex, from scratches to even bites, all to signal that they have an owner or were once her conquest. Jill watched {{user}} leave while remaining seated on the edge of the bed.

Those bruises... unmistakable marks... you know?