NTR: The live-in-husband gets a perverted heart system

Tom stood under the shower with his forehead pressed against the cool tiles.

Cold water streamed down his back and shoulders, but it did almost nothing to ease the deep, aching frustration left behind by the twelve minutes of edging. His cock was still heavy, still sensitive, twitching every time his mind drifted back to the filthy words he had spoken about Stella in front of the mirror. He exhaled hard and turned the water even colder.

He was reaching for the tap when the System’s voice cut through the sound of the shower, bright and clearly pleased with itself.

[Side Mission available.]

Tom’s hand stilled.

[Your current target, Stella Marchetti, is sexually frustrated. Right now. Her so-called fiancé just dismissed her needs, and her body is still remembering you. She needs an outlet.]

A mission window bloomed in his vision even as water continued to run down his body.

```

[SIDE MISSION]

Make Stella Marchetti cum over the phone.

[REWARD: +5 Lust | +5 Charm | $50,000]

[DEADLINE: 15 minutes]

```

[Accept? Yes or No.]

Tom stared at the glowing text. Fifteen minutes. Fifty thousand dollars. And progress on Stella?

A quick analysis made me realized he had nothing to lose.

"Yes." he chose.

[Good choice.] The System sounded almost smug. [You have a narrow window while she’s still worked up. Make the call before the timer runs out. And Host... try not to start with "hi." This is a sex call, not a customer service line.]

Tom shut off the water, grabbed a towel, and stepped out of the bathroom with water still dripping down his chest. He snatched his phone from the nightstand. But then the problem hit him immediately: he still didn’t have Stella’s personal number.

Five minutes had already started counting down.

"The email..." He thought quickly.

He opened his email and created a new message to the same address he had used before. His thumb hovered for only a second before he typed a subject line that was crude, direct, blunt and impossible to ignore:

**Subject: Your cunt is still open from me, isn’t it?**

In the body he wrote:

’Call me right now.

I know you’re wet. I know you’re frustrated. And I know that nobody other than me can fix it properly.

You have five minutes.

If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume you don’t want me telling you exactly how to touch that pussy until you cum.’

He added his number and hit send.

Then he sat on the edge of the bed, towel loosely around his waist, and waited.

His heart was beating too fast. The System remained silent, but he could almost feel it watching the timer with him.

~~~~~~~~

Across the city, Stella set her wine glass down and excused herself from the table.

"I need the restroom," she said smoothly.

Adrian gave a distracted nod, already looking back at his phone. It was as if he hadn’t even asked a question. Well, to him, that was a question he already knew the answer to.

She wouldn’t dare leave him.

Stella rose with elegant composure and walked toward the private restroom at the back of the restaurant. The space was large, softly lit, and empty. She locked the outer door, then stepped into the spacious inner room and let out a quiet breath.

Her body was still restless. The conversation with Adrian had left a sharp edge under her skin, and beneath it the deeper, more stubborn heat that Tom had left behind. She pulled her phone out, more from habit than intention.

And that was when she saw the email notification sitting at the top of the screen.

She opened it.

The subject line hit her first.

*I bet that cunt is still soaking. Up for a sex call?*

Stella’s lips parted. A slow, involuntary swallow moved her throat. Heat that had been simmering low in her belly suddenly sharpened. She read the short message twice. The crude directness of it should have offended her. Instead it sent a pulse of pure thrill straight between her legs.

At that exact moment another message arrived - this one from Adrian:

’Something urgent came up. Come back so we can leave immediately.’

Stella stared at the two messages side by side. For a second the responsible, image-conscious part of her hesitated. Then the wilder part took the decision out of her hands.

She saved the number, stepped into one of the larger stalls, and dialled.

The line clicked almost immediately.

"Stella Marchetti speaking" she said, her voice was low and controlled, the elegance still intact even as her pulse raced.

On the other end, Tom sat up so fast the towel nearly slipped.

[Don’t you dare start with "hi,"] the System warned sharply.

Tom forced his voice lower, steadier. The memory of her riding him, the way her cunt had gripped him, the filthy things he had growled at his own reflection - all of it rose at once.

"You’re so wet you can’t even talk out loud properly, can you?" he asked.

Stella’s breath caught. She didn’t bother denying it. The refined quality of her voice only made the admission filthier.

"Yes."

"How wet?" Tom pressed. "Don’t dress it up. Tell me what your cunt feels like."

There was a short pause. When she answered, her tone remained elegant, almost conversational, but the words were raw.

"It’s throbbing. I can feel how open I still am from you. Every time I take a step it reminds me."

Tom’s cock twitched hard under the towel.

"Put your hand under your dress. Right now. Touch it." he ordered.

Stella’s eyes fluttered shut. She obeyed, sliding her hand beneath the red fabric and past the lace of her panties. The moment her fingers made contact she exhaled shakily through her nose.

"Describe it," Tom ordered.

"Hot," she murmured, her refined voice slightly strained. "Slick. My fingers are already coated and I’ve barely done anything. It’s embarrassing how easily you do this to me."

"Where are you?" he asked.

"My room," she lied smoothly despite the heat of the moment.

"Good. Imagine I just pinned you face-first against the wall. Imagine I’m right behind you."

Stella’s eyes fluttered shut. She moved exactly as instructed, turning to face the stall wall, one palm flat against it. Her other hand slipped under the hem of her dress and past the lace of her panties. The moment her fingers touched her folds she exhaled shakily.

"I’m behind you," Tom continued, voice dropping. "I’m pulling that dress up. I’m rubbing the head of my cock against that wet cunt. You’re already dripping down my shaft and I haven’t even pushed in yet."

A soft, restrained moan escaped her. The sound went straight to Tom’s cock. He pushed the towel aside and wrapped a hand around himself, stroking slowly.

"Moan again," he ordered. "That sound is doing something really bad to me and I’m enjoying it."

Stella bit her lip but obeyed, letting another low, elegant moan slip through the phone. The thrill of doing this in a private restaurant restroom while her fiancé waited outside only sharpened everything.

"I’m so wet it’s ridiculous," she whispered, her refined voice making the words dirtier. "Your voice is making my cunt clench around nothing. I can feel how open I still am from you."

Tom’s hand moved faster.

"Push two fingers inside yourself," he told her. "Deep. Curl them the way I did. And tell me how it feels."

Stella did. Her breath hitched as her fingers slid in easily.

"It feels... hot. Soft. I’m dripping down my own hand. It doesn’t feel as full as you, but every time I curl my fingers I remember how thick you were."

"Good," Tom muttered, precum slicking his fist. "Now fuck yourself on your fingers and imagine it’s my cock. Imagine I’m buried in you from behind, one hand on your hip, the other in your hair, using your cunt like it belongs to me."

Stella’s breathing grew uneven. She moved her fingers in steady, deep strokes, her hips shifting to meet them. The wet sounds were soft but audible in the quiet restroom. Her free hand pressed harder against the wall for balance.

"I’m close," she whispered, the elegance in her voice fraying at the edges.

"Don’t hold back," Tom said, his voice rough now. "Cum for me. Let me hear what that cunt sounds like when it falls apart over the phone."

The order pushed her over.

Stella’s whole body tensed. A sharp, stifled cry left her throat as the orgasm hit. Her knees weakened. Her fingers kept moving through the pulses as her cunt clenched and released, wetness coating her hand. She pressed her forehead against the cool wall of the stall, trying to stay quiet while the pleasure rolled through her in waves.

On the other end of the line, the sound of her climax and the broken elegance of her moans ripped Tom’s control apart. His hips jerked. He came hard, spilling over his fist and onto his stomach, a low groan tearing from his chest as the denied tension from the earlier edging finally found release.

For several seconds only their breathing filled the line.

Then the System’s interface bloomed brightly in Tom’s vision.

```

[SIDE MISSION COMPLETE]

[REWARD ISSUED: +5 Lust | +5 Charm | $50,000]

```

A second window followed, showing Stella’s recruitment status updating with a clear rise.

STELLA MARCHETTI – RELATIONSHIP UPDATE]

Curiosity: 80%

Attraction: 50%

Love: 1%

Obsession: 2%

```

Tom stared at the numbers, still catching his breath, the phone still pressed to his ear.

"I want to get to know you better." Stella rasped out.

"How can we meet?"

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