#vincent.interactions

Leaving the reception early was definitely a bold move. However, as the drinks were downed and beautiful words were spoken by friend and family—it became increasingly hard to hold back any of the sexual energy that radiated off the powerful man. So here they were—in the back of the limo with his cock out for her small hands to please. Vincent moans and holds one hand on her neck while they make out. "If I could've, I would've fucked you in front of everyone—you looked so good." 

Stop being such a bitch. The words rattled inside of Vincent's mind, desperately fighting to get out. But he would never do that—call his love something so vulgar. Instead he groans. "What is your problem?!" His voice practically yelling, "I'm not stalking you. I'm protecting you." The male's fists were already bloodied from the blood of the last man to flirt with her. This was not a good look.

He had her bent over with her ass spread while he pushed into her tight asshole. Vincent couldn't wait any longer and art direction was going to kill him for fucking her in her costume. The man didn't care—this was his set after all. Every now and then he needed to assert his control of the studio. Especially after a particularly rough day on set. He was a visionary. No one would deny that. But casting his wife—love of his life—in a romance film with another man was difficult. "Tell me you love me." He said, moaning as he felt his cock push into her tight ass. "Beg me to fuck you." He would never deny her love for him—but jealousy took over from time to time.

Vincent carefully spread her ass. She was tied down to the bed and had a gag holding her jaw in place. Sometimes he got like this—a demented curiosity for her body. She was his and he knew he was slowly breaking her mind down. Paddles and whips lay to the side of the bed, near his actual weapons that kept her from running. "You've been so good the past few weeks..." Vincent smiled. "I love you so much. I'm so glad you're finally seeing things through my perspective." He hummed, then removing her gag so she could speak. 

Vincent holds her body close to hers as he rocks his body back and fourth on the bed. Their bodies were so attuned; he could feel how wet she was, even before she began stirring awake. "Good morning, my love..." The words were toeing the line between teasing and taunting. "It's our anniversary." He chuckled, then letting out a gasp as he felt his cock push deep into her cunt. "Good girl."

It was never nice losing a friend. The universe liked to take the brightest souls before they've gotten their chance to fully shine. When Vincent got the call he completely shut down. Even now he didn't cry. Rain poured around the funeral and guests. Once the words were spoken and his friend was lowered, he began walking back to the small shack that most people were going in for food and drink. "Hey." Was the first thing he spoke, to them, since he heard the news. "How are you feeling?"

Vincent looked over at the other and shook his head angrily. "No. I get it. We're not together anymore so I don't really get to say anything. But you better keep your man in check before I beat the shit out of him."

The hollow building was finally looking like intended: a home. Walls finally pulled over the insulation and paint buckets scatter the floors, prepared and ready for use by the brand new rollers that lay beside them. It's been a couple months but the house was finally built. Their house. Vincent never fancied himself a handy man but he was proud. When the door opened, he smiled. "Wait—I need your reaction." A phone flies into view and he hits record to film her reaction to their new home.