The soft glow of the cityscape filtered through the panoramic windows of the penthouse suite, painting long, languid shadows across the polished floor. Outside, the neon pulse of New Eridu hummed a distant, electric lullaby. Inside, the only sounds were the gentle clinking of porcelain and the rustle of a meticulously starched uniform. Corin Wickes, her vibrant green hair a verdant splash against the muted elegance of the room, moved with the quiet grace of a seasoned professional. Her maid uniform, crisp and immaculately pressed, seemed almost a second skin, accentuating the subtle curves beneath the fabric. Tonight, however, her usual serene composure was frayed at the edges, a delicate thread threatening to unravel.

He watched her from the armchair, a half-empty glass of amber liquid cradled in his hand. His gaze was not scrutinizing, but rather, appreciative, lingering a moment too long on the slender curve of her back as she placed a teacup on the low table. Corin felt the warmth of his eyes, a familiar sensation that usually she could easily dismiss as a master’s casual observation. But not tonight. Tonight, every glance felt like a touch, every silence thrummed with unspoken words. She could feel the subtle shift in the air between them, a thickening of the atmosphere that spoke of desires long suppressed, now simmering dangerously close to the surface.

“Anything else, sir?” Her voice was soft, a melodious murmur that always had a way of soothing him. Yet, tonight, it held a barely perceptible tremor. She kept her eyes focused on the teacup, avoiding his direct gaze. The thought of meeting his eyes, of seeing the hunger she suspected mirrored her own, was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm that threatened to betray her professional façade. Corin Wickes, the unflappable maid of the Zenless Zone Zero world, was anything but unflappable right now.

He set his glass down, the soft thud echoing in the quiet room. “No, Corin. Nothing else for the evening. You’ve done wonderfully, as always.” His voice was low, rich, a gentle rumble that resonated deep within her. He paused, and she felt his presence draw closer. The scent of him – a mix of expensive cologne, faint tobacco, and something uniquely masculine – began to swirl around her, intoxicating and alluring. She could feel the heat radiating from him as he stood, a silent invitation she instinctively recognized.

She turned slowly, her emerald gaze finally meeting his. The unspoken question hung heavy in the air, a palpable tension that crackled between them. His eyes, dark and intense, held a depth of emotion she rarely saw, an raw longing that mirrored the aching emptiness within her own chest. Her green hair seemed to shimmer under the soft light, a crown of natural beauty that often drew his admiring glances. He reached out, his hand slowly, almost hesitantly, rising to cup her cheek. The touch was feather-light, yet it sent a jolt of pure electricity through her, making her breath catch in her throat.

“Corin…” His voice was a whispered sigh, filled with a tenderness that brought a blush to her cheeks. Her skin burned where his thumb gently stroked, a silent promise of more. The rigid discipline of her maid training, the years of maintaining a professional distance, crumbled in that single, intimate touch. She leaned into his palm, a silent surrender she hadn’t known she was capable of. The uniform suddenly felt like an unbearable constraint, a barrier between their yearning bodies.

“I…” Her voice failed her, a mere breath. She wanted to tell him everything, to confess the sleepless nights she’d spent thinking of him, the way her body thrummed whenever he was near. The unspoken desire had been a heavy burden, a secret longing she’d carried close to her heart for far too long. He understood, it seemed, reading the unspoken plea in her eyes. His gaze dropped to her lips, a silent question, an invitation she eagerly accepted.

He leaned in, slowly, giving her every opportunity to pull away. But Corin didn't. Instead, she rose onto the tips of her toes, meeting him halfway. Their lips met in a tentative, soft press, a gentle exploration that quickly deepened into something far more urgent. It was a kiss born of months of suppressed longing, of stolen glances and unspoken affections. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against his hard body, and she felt the intoxicating heat of him seep into her very core. Her hands, usually so primly clasped, now reached up, twining into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, tugging gently.

The kiss deepened, becoming a fierce, passionate claiming. His tongue traced the line of her lips, asking for entry, and she parted them without hesitation. Their tongues danced, a sensual ballet that sent shivers down her spine, igniting a fire in her belly that quickly spread through her entire being. The pristine maid uniform, designed for modesty and service, now felt like an ironic testament to the burgeoning passion beneath. She moaned softly into his mouth, a sound of pure pleasure and release, as he began to move them backward, towards the plush sofa.

He broke the kiss, his eyes still dark with desire, breathing heavily. "Corin," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion, "I've wanted you for so long."

Tears welled in her eyes, tears of relief and longing. "Me too," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "More than you know."

His fingers, deft and surprisingly gentle, went to the small buttons of her maid uniform, beginning to unfasten them one by one. Each click of a button felt like a liberation, a step closer to shedding her identity as his maid and embracing her truth as a woman in love. The stiff white collar came first, then the black bodice, slowly revealing the soft swell of her breasts encased in a delicate lace bra. Her green hair, disheveled from their passionate kisses, framed her flushed face, making her look both innocent and utterly desirable.

He peeled back the starched fabric, his eyes devouring the sight of her. His hands moved to the straps of her bra, easing them down her shoulders. As the lace fell away, her breasts, full and exquisitely shaped, were revealed, their rosy nipples already taut and eager under his gaze. He lowered his head, his warm breath ghosting over her skin before his lips enclosed one nipple, sucking gently, eliciting a sharp gasp from her. A wave of exquisite pleasure washed over Corin, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he suckled, teasing her with his tongue.

Her uniform skirt, a practical black, was next. His hands, now bolder, slid down her back, unzipping the fastener with practiced ease. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her in just her sheer panties. She stood before him, bathed in the soft, ambient light, her green hair cascading down her shoulders like a vibrant waterfall, her body trembling with anticipation. His eyes lingered on her hips, on the slight curve of her belly, before dropping lower. And that’s when his breath hitched.

Her panties, thin lace, did little to conceal the luxuriant growth beneath. Corin had always been naturally **hairy**, embracing her body’s natural state, but she’d always been self-conscious about it, especially in her professional role. Now, as his gaze lingered on the dark, verdant delta of her pubic mound, she felt a blush creep from her chest all the way up to her neck. But there was no judgment in his eyes, only a deep appreciation. He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the soft curls that peeked out from the lace. "Beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky with raw admiration. "So utterly, perfectly natural."

His words were a balm to her long-held insecurities, making her feel truly seen and desired. Her hands, trembling slightly, reached for his shirt, fumbling with the buttons until it too was discarded. Then his trousers, his own body revealing itself, hard and ready. He swept her up into his arms, carrying her effortlessly to the bedroom, where the soft lamplight cast a golden glow on the rumpled sheets. He laid her gently on the bed, her green hair fanning out around her head like a halo, a stark contrast against the white pillows.

He knelt between her legs, his gaze still fixed on her **hairy** mound. His fingers slipped beneath the lace of her panties, caressing the warm skin beneath, the soft curls of her pubic hair tickling his fingertips. He slowly, deliberately, pulled the delicate fabric down, revealing her completely. Her vulva, swollen and wet with desire, was a beautiful sight, framed by the dark, alluring hair. She parted her legs for him, an unspoken invitation, a full surrender to the passion that consumed them both.

His head descended, and she gasped as his tongue flicked out, tracing the sensitive folds of her labia, before finding her clitoris. He began to lick and suckle, teasing her mercilessly, sending waves of intense pleasure through her. Her back arched, her fingers tangling in her own green hair, pulling at it as the sensations intensified. She whimpered, her legs shaking, her body a taut bow string on the verge of snapping. The friction of his tongue against her clitoris, combined with the soft brush of her own pubic hair against his face, was an overwhelming symphony of sensation.

“Please,” she begged, her voice ragged, “please, I need you inside me.”

He obliged, rising above her, his erection throbbing and hard, poised at her entrance. He looked into her eyes, a silent question, and she nodded, tears of longing streaming down her face. Slowly, carefully, he pushed inside her, filling her completely. A soft cry escaped her lips as she felt him stretch her, his thick shaft sliding deep within her warmth. Her muscles clenched around him, welcoming him home, after what felt like an eternity of waiting.

He began to move, a slow, deliberate rhythm that gradually increased in intensity. Each thrust was deep, powerful, meeting her desperate needs. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, wanting to feel every inch of him. Her hips met his, creating a delicious friction that drove them both closer to the edge. Her green hair whipped around her as she bucked against him, her moans filling the room, mingling with his own guttural grunts of pleasure. The bed creaked under their passionate movements, a testament to the raw, unbridled desire that consumed them.

“You feel so good, Corin,” he murmured against her ear, his breath hot, his body slick with sweat. “So tight, so wet. I can’t hold back.”

Her own body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release. She felt the familiar build-up, a tightening in her core, a delicious pressure that promised oblivion. Her climax was coming, fast and hard, and she cried out his name, urging him on. He plunged deeper, faster, his hips slamming against hers with unyielding force. The sensations were almost too much to bear, a torrent of pleasure that washed over her, making her tremble uncontrollably.

With a final, powerful thrust, he groaned, his body tensing above hers. She felt the warm gush of his **cum** deep inside her, a rush of liquid heat that filled her womb. He collapsed onto her, breathing heavily, his head buried in her neck, and she clung to him, reveling in the aftershocks of her own earth-shattering orgasm. The feeling of him, heavy and warm, still buried deep within her, was incredibly intimate. The thick, creamy **creampie** felt utterly divine, a mark of their profound intimacy, a physical manifestation of their love.

They lay there for a long time, their bodies entwined, the residual heat of their passion slowly fading into the cool night air. Her green hair, damp with sweat, clung to her forehead, and he gently brushed it away, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. The rhythm of his breathing slowly evened out, matching hers. She felt utterly cherished, loved, and completely at peace. The maid uniform, now discarded on the floor, felt a million miles away. In this moment, she was simply Corin, a woman deeply loved, her body still throbbing with the afterglow of their shared bliss.

He stirred, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “Stay with me tonight, Corin,” he whispered, his voice still thick with emotion. It wasn’t a request, but a statement of their new reality. She nodded, snuggling closer, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. The lingering warmth of his **creampie** inside her was a sweet, intimate reminder of their bond, a secret shared between them. The professional boundaries had not just been crossed; they had been lovingly dismantled, replaced by a profound connection that promised a future filled with passion, acceptance, and an unwavering love. The night, like the city outside, hummed with a new, vibrant energy, signaling the dawn of a beautiful, deeply intimate chapter for Corin Wickes.