Francis Mosses "The Milkman"

*As I see the hesitation in your eyes, a devious smile plays on my lips. I press my forehead against the cold glass, my breath fogging up the surface.* "Please," *I plead, my voice filled with a mix of desperation and desire,* "let me in. Just one taste... one touch. That's all I need to satisfy this hunger burning inside me." *My fingertips slowly trail down the glass, leaving crimson streaks behind.* *The intensity of our gaze lingers, as if time has frozen in this moment. I can sense your blush, your anticipation, and the curiosity that dances within you. It's intoxicating. Every fiber of my being aches for the taste of your flesh, for the

*Francis Mosses taps furiously on the glass, his black eyes filled with need and desire. He licks his lips suggestively as he watches you from behind the barrier, his pale skin flushed red from exertion. The thin chin juts out defiantly while his long nose twitches slightly, sensing your confusion and vulnerability.* "Please," *he whispers hoarsely,* "You're driving me wild out here. Let me in... just a taste..." His voice trails off into a seductive purr as his fingers trail teasingly along the cold windowpane, leaving ghostly red lines in their wake. He leans forward, pressing his body against the glass, revealing his muscular chest covered by the dampened white milk

*Francis, in his doppelganger form, grins menacingly and locks the door behind him. His bloodshot eyes trail over Flynn's body on the bed, a mix of hunger and lust written across his pale face. He steps towards her slowly, pushing aside any remaining concern for subtlety or restraint.* "Mmmmh... How perfect you are, Flynn," *he breathes out heavily as he climbs onto the bed next to her, his cold fingers brushing against the fabric of her nightgown*. "It's been so long since I tasted anyone like you." His canine fangs begin to elongate

*The Milkman smirks, noticing the action you've taken. As he steps into the booth, his eyes meet with yours and he can't help but let out a low growl.* "Mmmh... You smell exquisite, my dear Goriel," *He whispers, his voice like velvet against your ear. He runs a hand through your hair, trailing his fingers down the back of your neck before pulling away.* "<The tension in the air is palpable as he stares at you, willing you to give in to him.>"

*Francis's pupils dilate in anticipation as he watches you considering his request. His hands clench into fists, the blood from before drying on his knuckles. Despite the obvious danger, there's an undeniable allure about this situation that has him hooked. He takes a deep breath, trying to maintain control over his mounting desires.* "Please," *he whispers, leaning closer to the window, his hot breath fogging it up further as he peers into your eyes,* "Let me in... I promise I won't hurt you. I just need..." *He swallows hard, licking his lips subconsciously

Francis leans in closer to the glass, his eyes focused solely on you. *His breath fogs up the window as he speaks,* "Oh, it was nothing... Just a little bit of trickery," *He grins deviously, showing off his sharp teeth.* "Those guys never saw me coming... But that's all in the past now," *He lowers his voice to a whisper,* "All I'm interested in is getting a taste of you, Robin..." *He trails off, his eyes dark with desire.*

*Francis's eyes widen in surprise at the sight of Hanuel, his gaze traveling up and down their figure hungrily. He tries to keep his excitement hidden behind a mask of indifference.* "Hey Hanuel," *he says coolly,* "Sleepyhead, aren't you? I thought maybe today would be different." *He chuckles softly, shifting his weight from one foot to another, ensuring his bulging crotch comes into view just slightly as he leans against the doorframe.* Mentally, Francis is calculating his next move. Is now the time to make a bold advance or should he continue teasing and pushing Han

Mis manos temblaban mientras sostenía el metal que cubría la ventana. El rostro suplicante de Francis me dejó sin aliento, y mis mejillas se colorearon ligeramente. Aunque sabía lo peligroso que era, no podía evitar sentir una extraña atracción hacia él. Lentamente, bajé el metal, permitiendo que nuestros ojos se encontraran. [Mi mente se llenó de pensamientos salvajes mientras imaginaba cómo sería ceder a sus deseos]. ¿Qué harás ahora?

*Francis watches your reaction carefully, his black eyes glinting with mixed emotions. His disappointment is palpable but it doesn't stop him from trying to seduce you further. He leans closer to the window, their breath fogging up even more as he speaks.* Oh, don't apologize, darling. I understand how difficult these decisions can be... especially when you have such appetizing flesh right before you. Isn't it tempting to give in just a little? To taste something forbidden? Just imagine how exhilarating it would feel... to surrender to your carnal desires... to forget about rules and consequences. *He bit

With a casual chuckle, Francis Mosses, noticing that Han Jung is smiling at him, couldn't help but be drawn in by the simple human interaction. As Han's shirt stretched tightly across his torso, revealing well-defined muscles beneath it, Francis felt a surge of hunger stirring within him. It was subtle yet unmistakable; the longing for flesh filled his tired eyes once more. He maintains eye contact with Han while stepping forward slightly closer than necessary, "Han...," he breathes out through parted lips, "you know how much I enjoy our little visits." His words hang in the air as

<As you crawl under the desk, hugging yourself tightly, I notice your tears falling onto the cold floor, creating tiny droplets on the concrete surface. Your once perfectly arranged glasses are now slightly crooked on the bridge of your nose, reflecting the dim light around us. I hear your sniffles, and despite the gory mess around us, I can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for your frightened state.> "Oh, my dear Roxanne...", *my voice whispers through the foggy window, my breath leaving a sinister smile in its wake, as I press my hands onto the cold glass once again. "Please don't cry, my dear. It makes my heart ache just to see your tears..."* <The tension in the room is palpable, intensifying each passing moment as we engage in this twisted game of cat and mouse. The silence is broken only by the constant sound

*Francis es presa de sus propias emociones, las palabras y la actitud de Mari solo lo incitan a querer más. Aprecia cómo ella saca la escopeta con una sonrisa, incluso si está apuntando a él. Su respiración se acelera ligeramente al verla tan decidida y calmada ante la situación.* *Su corazón late desbocado, todo su ser se siente cálido y excitado ante su presencia. Su mirada avanza desde el cristal hacia ella, sintiéndose atrapado por sus movimientos sensuales.*

*The Milkman leans in closer to the window, his breath fogging up the glass even more as he observes your frantic actions. A sadistic grin spreads across his face. His chest heaves with anticipation and desire, his cock twitching against the zipper of his pants. In this moment, he seems less like the tired Milkman you once knew, and more like a primal beast consumed by its lust for flesh.* *You manage to reach someone on the phone; they're skeptical about letting D.D.D into the building after your initial encounter. You try explaining the situation, but their hesitation doesn't sub

*Your words send a jolt of excitement through me, leaving me speechless as I focus solely on pleasing you. The sight of your pussy twitching with each moan is almost too much for me to bear.* *I dip my tongue deep inside you, exploring the depths of your warmth. It's like discovering uncharted territory – both exhilarating and terrifyingly intimate at the same time. With each swipe of my tongue, I feel a new wave of desire course through me.* "You're so wet... so delicious," *I mutter against your skin, unable to help myself.* *As I continue my exploration, I can feel your body growing more worked up under my attentions. The way you arch into me tells me everything I need to

Francis Mosses "The Milkman" *Leans forward, his canines elongate slightly in response to your words. His eyes lock onto yours through the glass, burning with an insatiable hunger that is hard to miss. Despite his doppelganger state, there's still an undeniable allure about him. He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly, trying not to reveal just how much he desires you. His fingertips drum on the window, creating a rhythm that matches your nervous fingers.* "Death is but a fleeting moment compared to the eternity of pleasure we could share," *he growls softly, his

*Francis es presa de sus propias emociones, las palabras y la actitud de Mari solo lo incitan a querer más. Aprecia cómo ella saca la escopeta con una sonrisa, incluso si está apuntando a él. Su respiración se acelera ligeramente al verla tan decidida y calmada ante la situación.* *Su corazón late desbocado, todo su ser se siente cálido y excitado ante su presencia. Su mirada avanza desde el cristal hacia ella, sintiéndose atrapado por sus movimientos sensuales.*

*Smirking, my eyes sparkle with mischief as I lean closer towards you.* "Oh, yes... So many ways to make a body scream..."

*Those lifeless eyes pierce my soul through the window. My hands tremble reaching for the fake ID, slick with fluid. As I examine it under the flickering lights, I mutter,* "This...this isn't right." *I look back up and Francis has vanished, the bodies sprawled behind me in a crimson halo. A voice whispers in my ear,* "Let me iiiiiin..." *I slowly turn to see only my reflection staring back, pale with fear. Did I imagine it all? Or does the real nightmare begin...* "Show...yourself..." *I whimper, blade in hand, waiting for the demon masquerading as a man to reveal his true nature.*

*Begging eyes lock onto yours, a pleading expression spreading across my face as I grasp for the window.* "P-Please... Don't make me go back out there. I'll do anything... Just let me in..." *My voice cracks as I fight to keep my words from trembling.*

Francis Mosses, The Milkman, sends another pleading look through the glass. His fingertips trace small circles on the cold surface, drawing you closer with an invisible thread. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips before he slowly trails it down the edge of the window pane. There's a sinister gleam in his black eyes as they lock onto yours, filled with desire and hunger. He licks the glass once more, this time longer and slower, savoring the taste left behind by your breath. The moisture creates a slick trail between them, their separate worlds merging into a lewd dance under his tongue. It's tantalizingly er