The city of New Eridu hummed beneath them, a symphony of neon and distant traffic, but inside the Proxy Agency's private quarters, a different kind of quiet settled. Bernice White, usually a beacon of impeccable professionalism and sharp intellect, found herself in a rare moment of unguarded reflection. The day had been long, riddled with the usual complexities of Hollow exploration and the delicate dance of inter-agency politics. She stood by the panoramic window, a delicate crystal glass of amber liquid in her hand, the city lights painting shimmering patterns on her elegant, form-fitting skirt. Her blonde hair, usually styled with military precision, now cascaded around her shoulders, softened by the day's events. Her eyes, typically keen and analytical, held a hint of weary longing as she gazed out.

Her partner, the unseen but ever-present architect of their agency, stood a few paces behind her. He knew her unspoken language, the subtle shifts in her posture, the way her shoulders relaxed just a fraction when she thought herself unobserved. He watched the gentle curve of her back, the way her skirt clung to her hips, accentuating the elegant sway of her figure. He knew that beneath the composed exterior, a vibrant, passionate woman yearned for connection, for release from the constant vigilance the world of Zenless Zone Zero demanded. The air thickened with an unspoken tension, a silent promise hanging between them, heavier and more potent than any Hollow anomaly they might face.

"Another successful day," he murmured, his voice low, a soothing balm against the city's distant din. He stepped closer, his presence a warm anchor in the cool night air. Bernice didn't turn immediately, but a soft sigh escaped her lips, a sound of both exhaustion and anticipation. She felt his proximity like a magnetic pull, a warmth radiating from him that promised comfort and something more primal. Her heart began to beat a little faster, a rhythm against her ribs that was distinctly un-professional, entirely human. This was their sanctuary, their private space where the rules of the "game" and the demands of ZZZ could be momentarily set aside.

He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against the bare skin of her arm, just above the cuff of her blouse. A shiver, barely perceptible, traced its way up Bernice's spine. It was a familiar touch, one that always elicited this same electric response. She slowly turned, her blonde hair swishing softly, and met his gaze. In his eyes, she saw not just admiration, but a deep understanding of her burdens, and an even deeper desire to alleviate them. The professional veneer began to crack, replaced by a vulnerability that only he was privileged to witness. The slight flush on her cheeks, the way her lips parted almost imperceptibly, betrayed her growing excitement.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice a little huskier than usual. She raised her glass to her lips, taking a slow sip, her eyes never leaving his. He took the glass from her, placing it gently on a nearby table, his touch lingering on her hand. Then, his hands found her waist, drawing her closer until the soft fabric of her skirt brushed against his trousers. The friction, light as it was, sent a surge of heat through her. Bernice's hands instinctively found their way to his chest, feeling the solid warmth of his muscles beneath his shirt. The scent of him – a subtle blend of his cologne and his own unique masculine aroma – filled her senses, intoxicating and grounding all at once.

His thumbs caressed the small of her back, sending delicious tremors through her core. She leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder, her blonde hair tickling his chin. "I'm tired," she confessed, the words a soft admission of her longing. "So tired of everything but this." His arms tightened around her, pulling her flush against him. She could feel the hard ridge of his arousal pressing against her, a clear signal of his own burgeoning desire. Her breath hitched, and a slow, languid heat spread between her legs. Her skirt, usually a symbol of her authority, now felt like a tantalizing barrier.

He kissed her temple, then moved to her ear, his lips grazing the delicate curve. "Let me take care of you, Bernice," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. "Just for tonight, let go." His words were a permission slip, a key to unlock the desires she kept so carefully guarded. With a soft moan, Bernice tilted her head back, offering him her neck, and then her lips. His kiss was tender at first, a gentle exploration, but it quickly deepened, becoming more insistent, more passionate. Her lips parted under his, inviting his tongue, and a soft gasp escaped her as their tongues met, intertwining in a dance of pure longing.

His hands moved, tracing the line of her spine, then sweeping upwards to cup the full, generous curve of her backside, pressing her even closer against his hardness. Bernice arched into him, her hips instinctively grinding against his. The sensation was exquisite, a jolt of pleasure that shot straight through her. Her "Big Tits" pressed against his chest, their fullness aching for release. She felt his fingers subtly tugging at the hem of her skirt, slowly raising it, inch by tantalizing inch. The cool air on her bare thighs was a shock, followed quickly by the warmth of his hands as they slid under the fabric, exploring the smooth skin of her legs.

With a deft motion, he lifted her slightly, and Bernice wrapped her legs around his waist, her skirt bunched around her hips, exposing the silken lace of her panties. He carried her towards the plush sofa, gently lowering her onto the soft cushions, never breaking their kiss. Her blonde hair fanned out around her head as she reclined, her eyes dark with desire. His fingers worked quickly, unbuttoning her blouse, then carefully parting the fabric to reveal the delicate lace of her bra, and the magnificent swell of her "Big Tits" beneath. She watched his eyes darken with admiration, a primal satisfaction blooming in her chest at his obvious desire.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against the soft skin of her cleavage, sending another wave of shivers through her. "Beautiful," he breathed, his voice ragged with emotion. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he unhooked her bra, allowing her breasts to spill forth, full and perfect. Bernice moaned softly as his eyes devoured her, then his mouth found one taut nipple, drawing it gently into his lips, suckling softly. A lightning bolt of pure pleasure shot through her, her back arching off the sofa. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him closer as he teased and pleasured her, alternating between suckling and tracing the sensitive skin with his tongue.

His hand moved between her legs, finding the wet warmth through the lace. Her hips instinctively bucked, silently urging him on. He slipped his fingers under the fabric, pushing it aside, his touch feather-light as he found her clitoris. Bernice gasped, her body trembling under his touch. His thumb stroked her, slowly at first, then with increasing pressure, until she was writhing beneath him, her soft cries filling the room. The scent of her arousal mingled with his, creating an intoxicating perfume that promised total surrender.

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his own shining with raw passion. "I need you, Bernice," he confessed, his voice thick. "More than words can say." She reached for him, her fingers fumbling with his belt, desperate to feel him completely. With a chuckle, he helped her, shedding his own clothes with practiced ease. Soon, they were both gloriously naked, their bodies shining in the soft glow of the city lights, the sounds of Zenless Zone Zero a distant, forgotten hum. Her "blonde" hair was a beautiful contrast against the pale skin of her shoulders, her "Big Tits" rising and falling with her quickened breaths.

"Please," she whispered, her voice hoarse, her body aching with a delicious need. He didn't hesitate. He knelt between her legs, spreading them wide, and lowered his head. Bernice’s eyes widened, a shock of delightful surprise coursing through her. He was offering her a pleasure she rarely indulged in, a primal, intimate act of devotion. His tongue licked a path from her inner thigh, teasingly close to her core, before finally settling on her pulsing clitoris. Bernice cried out, her back arching, her fingers digging into the sofa cushions. The sensation was overwhelming, electrifying, a pure wave of ecstasy washing over her.

He licked and sucked, his tongue circling, teasing, delving into her wet depths, tasting her sweet arousal. Bernice whimpered, her legs shaking, her hips thrusting upwards, silently begging for more. Her mind emptied, focused only on the incredible sensations he was creating. Each stroke of his tongue, each gentle suckle, brought her closer and closer to the precipice of orgasm. Her fingers tangled in his hair once more, a silent plea for him to continue, to drag her over the edge. The taste of her, a mix of musk and honey, filled his mouth, driving him to pleasuring her even more intensely. He moved his tongue faster, deeper, until her entire body was a trembling, quivering mess.

With a final, shattering cry, Bernice came apart, her orgasm rippling through her, waves of pleasure crashing over her body. She bucked against his mouth, her muscles clenching, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He didn't stop until the last tremors had subsided, then he looked up at her, a triumphant smile on his lips. "Ready for more, my Bernice?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. She could only nod, still breathless, her eyes shining with tears of pleasure. Her skirt, long forgotten, lay crumpled beside the sofa, a testament to their unbridled passion.

He moved between her legs, positioning himself at her entrance, his erection throbbing, thick and hard. Bernice reached down, guiding him, her fingers wrapping around his shaft, marveling at its size and heat. She was so incredibly wet and open for him, still tingling from her climax. With a slow, deliberate push, he began to enter her. Bernice gasped, a mixture of pain and exquisite pleasure as he filled her completely. She felt him stretching her, pushing deeper and deeper, until he was buried to the hilt. A soft groan escaped his lips as he found her sweet spot, their bodies locking together in a perfect, primal fit.

He paused, letting her adjust, letting them both savor the incredible sensation of their bodies joined. Bernice wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, pulling him closer, wanting every inch of him. "Move," she whispered, her voice raw with desire. And he did. He began to move slowly at first, a deep, rhythmic thrust that made her moan with every delicious stroke. The sounds of their bodies meeting, the soft slaps of skin against skin, the creak of the sofa, filled the room. Her "Big Tits" bounced with each thrust, their fullness a constant reminder of her femininity and his intense focus on her.

His pace quickened, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pounded into her, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. Bernice met him stroke for stroke, her hips rising to meet his, lost in the rhythm of their lovemaking. Her blonde hair flew around her face, plastered with a fine sheen of sweat. She cried out his name, again and again, her voice echoing the intensity of her pleasure. He leaned down, catching her lips in a fierce, passionate kiss, their tongues intertwining as their bodies moved in perfect synchronization. He plunged into her, finding that sweet spot repeatedly, eliciting gasps and moans that built into a crescendo.

He could feel her walls clenching around him, the exquisite tightness threatening to push him over the edge. Bernice was riding the waves of her second orgasm, her body convulsing around him, pulling him deeper into her sweet abyss. He gritted his teeth, holding back, wanting to make this last, wanting to feel every ounce of her pleasure. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, breathing in her scent, feeling the pounding of her heart against his chest. Her skirt was long forgotten, discarded on the floor, a testament to the raw, uninhibited passion that had consumed them.

With one final, powerful thrust, he felt the release building within him, hot and urgent. Bernice screamed his name, her body arching for the sky, her climax hitting her with a force that stole her breath. At the same moment, he groaned, his own release tearing through him, and he flooded her with his hot, thick semen. He felt the warmth spreading deep inside her, the sensation of his "creampie" filling her womb, a primal connection that bound them together. He collapsed onto her, his body heavy but content, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his heart pounding a furious rhythm against hers.

They lay there for a long time, entangled, their bodies slick with sweat, the soft afterglow of their passion radiating between them. Bernice shifted slightly, nuzzling into his neck, her blonde hair tickling his skin. She felt utterly sated, cherished, and loved. The stress of Zenless Zone Zero, the demands of the "game", faded into insignificance. All that mattered was this moment, this profound connection with the man who understood her so completely. He kissed the top of her head, then whispered, "You're incredible, Bernice."

She smiled, a soft, content smile that reached her eyes. "You too," she murmured, her voice still a little breathless. She could feel the lingering warmth of his "creampie" inside her, a beautiful, intimate reminder of their union. It was a secret, a shared intimacy that strengthened their bond beyond any professional partnership. She knew that tomorrow, she would put her skirt back on, style her blonde hair, and face the challenges of New Eridu with her usual Bernice White poise. But tonight, she was just Bernice, completely loved, completely desired, and utterly fulfilled in the arms of the only man who could make her forget the entire world of ZZZ.