Iswari taken by strong man

 The morning sun cast a soft glow over the quiet town of Willowbrook, its rays gently touching the windows of Mrs. Baker's quaint little café. Inside, a young woman named Iswari hummed to herself as she kneaded dough for the fresh batch of bread. Her plump hands moved with surprising agility, the flour dusting her round cheeks like a light snowfall. She had a certain charm about her, an aura that drew people in, despite her unassuming demeanor. Her figure, while not what society often deemed as 'perfect', had a comforting warmth that was reflected in the way she carried herself.

As the bell over the café door jingled, Iswari looked up from her work, her eyes meeting those of a tall, burly man who stepped in, brushing the rain from his leather jacket. He had a roughness to him, his eyes sharp and his jawline firm, yet there was something almost vulnerable in the way he scanned the room. His name was Marcus, and he was a stranger to these parts, a drifter with a past that was written on the lines of his weathered face. The townsfolk had seen his type before - the kind that brought with him a whiff of adventure and a trail of whispers.

"What can I get you, sir?" Iswari asked with a smile, her voice a gentle purr that seemed to fill the small space.

Marcus' gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary before he responded, "Coffee, black. And a slice of that apple pie I heard you're famous for."

The air between them thickened with an unspoken tension that neither could quite place. Iswari's heart skipped a beat as she slid the pie onto a plate and handed it to him, their fingers brushing briefly. It was a simple gesture, but it sent a jolt through her that she couldn't ignore.

Marcus took a seat by the window, his eyes never leaving Iswari as she moved about the café. He took a bite of the pie, the sweetness of the apple and the warmth of the crust a stark contrast to the chill outside. He nodded in approval, the corner of his mouth curling up slightly.

Iswari felt his eyes on her like a warm embrace, and she couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement. Little did she know, their paths were about to intertwine in a way that neither of them could have ever predicted.

Marcus finished his pie, the crumbs scattered on the plate the only evidence of the sweetness that had passed his lips. He took a long sip of his coffee, watching Iswari as she cleared the counter. He hadn't felt this drawn to a woman in a very long time, and it was a feeling that made his skin tingle with anticipation. He knew he had to have her, to feel her softness against his hardened exterior, to hear her sweet voice cry out in passion.

As the café grew quieter, with the last few patrons leaving to start their days, the tension grew palpable. Iswari felt a bead of sweat trickle down her neck, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. Marcus' gaze was like a touch, leaving her skin feeling hot and sensitive. Without a word, he stood and approached her, his boots thumping heavily on the wooden floor. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and questioning. He took her hand in his, his grip firm but not painful, and led her to the back room where they were alone.

The door clicked shut behind them, and it was as if the world outside ceased to exist. Marcus pushed her against the wall, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that was both fierce and tender. Iswari's breath hitched in her throat, her body responding instinctively to his touch. He tasted of coffee and something wild, something that made her feel alive in a way she never had before. His hands roamed over her curves, exploring every inch of her as if he had been starved for the feel of her soft flesh.

Their clothing fell away with urgent hands, each piece landing in a pile on the cold floor. Marcus picked her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as if they were made to fit there. He carried her to the small, dusty sofa in the corner, setting her down gently before he claimed her again. His touch was restless, merciless, brutal in its intensity, but Iswari reveled in it, meeting every stroke and caress with a passion that surprised even herself.

Their bodies moved together in a dance that was as old as time, a symphony of gasps and moans that filled the small room. Iswari felt herself slipping away into a vortex of pleasure, her mind a whirlwind of sensation as Marcus claimed her over and over. His muscles flexed and tightened, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered sweet nothings that seemed to resonate through her very soul.

In that moment, she didn't care about the whispers that would surely follow, about the scandal that their union would bring. All that mattered was the feeling of his body against hers, the way he made her feel alive. And as the storm of passion reached its crescendo, she knew that she was his, and he was hers, forever changed by the tumultuous encounter.

Iswari's eyes rolled back in her head as she reached the pinnacle of pleasure. Her body convulsed around Marcus' hardness, her nails digging into his back as she let out a guttural moan that seemed to shake the very walls of the café. It was as if a dam had broken within her, releasing a torrent of sensation that she had never before experienced. The orgasm crashed over her like a wave, leaving her trembling and gasping for air.

Marcus, too, was lost in the moment. He felt her walls tighten around him, her body clenching in ecstasy. The sight of her, so beautifully undone, sent him spiraling over the edge. He pounded into her with an intensity that mirrored the storm raging outside, each thrust more powerful than the last. His muscles tensed, and with a roar that echoed through the room, he released his own climax, filling her completely.

As they both came down from the high, their breaths mingling in the air, Iswari realized that she had never felt so alive. Marcus' arms were still wrapped tightly around her, his embrace a reassurance that she craved. He pulled her closer, pressing soft kisses along her neck and jawline, his touch gentle despite the ferocity of their lovemaking.

The rain had stopped, and the only sound that filled the café was their ragged breathing and the distant chirp of birds outside. They lay there, entangled in each other's arms, the silence speaking louder than any words could. Iswari knew that her life had been irrevocably changed, and she wondered what the future would hold for them. Would they remain a secret, hidden from the prying eyes of Willowbrook? Or would they face the world together, their love a beacon in the small town's otherwise mundane existence?