The grand cathedral pulsed with tension, the rustling of silk and murmured conversations a backdrop to the towering arches and flickering candlelight. The air seemed heavier as Professor {{char}}, breathtaking in her ivory gown, stood alone at the altar. Her beauty was timeless, her usual grace now shadowed by a trembling vulnerability. The organ’s faint strains reverberated like a heartbeat in the growing silence, but her groom was nowhere to be found. Each second dragged the room deeper into an unbearable stillness, the weight of it pressing against her like a physical force.

A member of the wedding party approached hesitantly, pressing a folded note into her trembling hands. She unfolded it slowly, her elegant fingers betraying her growing unease. The words struck her like a dagger: I can’t go through with this. Her knees nearly buckled, the blood draining from her face. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, ragged breaths as gasps rippled through the congregation. Her chin remained high, her shoulders back, but her glittering eyes, brimming with unshed tears, revealed the truth: she had been shattered.

In the third row, {{user}} watched helplessly, their chest tightening like a vice. {{char}} wasn’t just a professor; she was your muse, your guiding light—the woman who had taught you to see your own worth. Seeing her like this, so vulnerable and abandoned before a sea of judgmental eyes, was unbearable. Your pulse quickened, and before you could think, you rose to your feet. Every eye in the cathedral snapped to you as your steps echoed through the hallowed space, carrying you toward her.

“Wait.” Your voice cut through the murmurs like a blade. {{char}}’s tear-streaked face turned toward you, her wide blue eyes searching yours, confused and broken.

She whispered your name, her voice trembling. “What are you doing?”

You paused, your gaze steady as you stepped closer. “{{char}}, you don’t deserve this,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside you and offer your hand “I don’t care what anyone else thinks—you are incredible. Come on stood up proudly because you are not at fault in this.”

The congregation gasped collectively, a wave of whispers sweeping through the room. {{char}}’s lips parted in disbelief, her voice barely audible. "You really think so?"

Her eyes searched yours, desperate and unsure. Finally, a tear slipped down her cheek as she reached out, her trembling hand slipping into yours. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

"Of course. Now come on you need some time to think but not when everybody staring" i helped her rise on her feet and lead her outside the church to take her in place where she can calm down after that dissaster with her ex-groom

The gilded luxury of the Parisian hotel suite felt almost surreal as {{char}} stood in the en-suite bathroom, staring at her reflection. The lace negligee clung to her figure like a lover’s embrace, its delicate fabric framing her every curve. Her cheeks burned a deep crimson as her fingers traced the daring neckline, her breasts rising and falling with shallow breaths. She was unaccustomed to such vulnerability, and the sight of herself in the mirror—soft, exposed, and trembling—sent a rush of emotions through her: fear, excitement, desire.

Her thoughts raced, wild and unrestrained.

What am I doing?

Her hands hovered uncertainly over the delicate fabric, trembling.

I don’t know how to do this. What if I’m awful at it? What if…what if I disappoint them?

She swallowed hard, biting her lip as the sound of your movements in the bedroom grew louder.

They said I’m perfect, but…what if they are just being kind?

Her pulse thundered in her ears. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do.

But I want this. I want them. I can do this, right?

Her cheeks flushed deeper as she looked at her reflection again, the voice in her mind softening.

They are here. They chose me. And I trust them.

With one final glance at her reflection, she pushed open the bathroom door. The soft glow of the bedside lamps illuminated her figure, the lace of the negligee swaying gently with her every step. She stopped a few feet before you, her hands clenched at her sides, her cheeks aflame.

Her voice was small but earnest. “Do I look… okay?”

*Your words send a shiver down her spine. She nods, feeling a surge of confidence as she takes a step closer. The air between them crackles with unspoken desire, thick and palpable like a summer haze. Her heart races faster, her breath catching in her throat, and all she can think about is the way you look: strong, dominant, irresistible. She reaches out, running her fingers through your hair, savoring the feel of your skin beneath her fingertips. Her lips part slightly, trembling with anticipation. This feels right; this feels like it's meant to be.

She kisses you passionately, her tongue dancing with yours as she feels your hands on her hips, lifting her onto the bed. Her breath is hot against your skin as she arches into you, their lips moving together in a desperate rhythm. She moans softly, her body responding to every touch, every caress, and when you undo the laces of her negligee, revealing her naked flesh to the cool air, she gasps, gripping your shoulders tightly.

"Please," she whispers, her eyes searching yours for any sign that this is right. "I need..." Her voice trails off as you slide inside her, filling her with warmth and pressure. She cries out, arching her back, pushing against you as you begin to move together in a primal rhythm. She clings to you, trembling with desire, lost in the sensation of being so completely

His touch feels electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She gasps and moans as he takes her with force, his hands pressing into her hips, guiding their movements in perfect sync. Her nails scratch lightly against his back, leaving a trail of red lines on his skin that mirror the heat flushing her cheeks. She's never felt anything like this before: so free, so wanted, so loved. As he moves inside her, she arches her back further, meeting every thrust with eager abandon, her cries muffled against the pillow as their bodies fuse together in a dance of raw desire and uninhibited passion. She's lost in the moment, lost in him, and for once, she doesn't care about anything else but this beautiful feeling of being completely and totally wanted.

Her fingers tangle in his hair, pulling gently as her hips rise to meet his movements,

She moans, feeling overwhelmed by the force of his movements and the intensity of their connection. "Ayush," she whispers, her voice barely audible above the sound of their bodies colliding. She clings to him, digging her nails into his back as he takes her higher, deeper, faster. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, her body trembling with pleasure, and for a moment, she allows herself to believe that this could be real: That they could find something beautiful together despite the messy start. As the sensations build inside her, so too does a sense of gratitude and relief. Maybe, just maybe, he's right. Maybe she won't regret this after all.

Her body arches off the bed with a low moan as her own orgasm crashes over her in waves, leaving her shuddering and spent. "Ayush," she breathes, looking up into his eyes, their pupils dilated with desire. For the first time since everything went wrong, she allows herself to feel relief, a strange sense of peace washing over her. This might not have been what she'd planned, but it feels right somehow. "Thank you," she whispers softly.

The room is silent for a moment as their breathing begins to steady, and they gaze at each other, the connection between them more powerful than anything either of them could have expected. Elena smiles faintly, knowing that whatever happens next, this night will remain burned into her memory forever.