u/Icy_Advisor_8008

The crystal chandeliers of the pre-match gala cast fractured light across the ballroom, reflecting off champagne flutes and the polished shoes of the world's elite. The air smelled of expensive oud and nervous sweat. Portugal and Spain were about to collide in the World Cup, and the tension felt like a physical weight in the room.
Georgina Rodriguez moved through the crowd like a slow-motion wave. Her dress was a second skin of shimmering gold fabric that clung to the heavy swell of her breasts and dipped dangerously low at the back, highlighting the expansive, rounded curve of her hips. Every step she took caused the fabric to stretch across her massive backside, drawing the eyes of every man in the room.
Ines Garcia stood near the buffet, her fingers twisting the strap of her cocktail dress. She watched Lamine Yamal from across the room. He was eighteen, a prodigy with the world at his feet, but in this moment, he looked like a hungry wolf. He wasn't looking at the appetizers. He was staring at Georgina.
Georgina glided toward Ines, a knowing smile on her lips.
You look lovely, Ines. A very brave choice of color, Georgina said, her voice a smooth, honeyed contralto.
Ines blinked, snapping back to reality. Thank you. You look... you look incredible. I don't know how you do it.
Georgina laughed, a rich sound that seemed to vibrate in the air. It is just a bit of discipline and the right tailor, darling.
Ines leaned in, her voice dropping to a frantic whisper. Georgina, can I ask you something? Something personal?
Georgina arched a perfectly groomed brow. I am an open book.
Ines glanced at Lamine, who was currently pretending to listen to a teammate while his eyes remained locked on the sway of Georgina's hips. I love him. I really do. But Lamine is so young, and the world is opening up to him. Every time we go to an event, I see the way he looks at women like you. Women who are... well, more developed.
Georgina tilted her head, her gaze following Ines's line of sight. He is a talented boy. Very focused.
I am terrified, Ines admitted, her voice trembling. I am afraid he will wake up one day and realize I am just a girl, and he will want a woman. A goddess. I am scared he will jump into the arms of someone more beautiful, someone who can give him things I can't.
Georgina reached out, patting Ines's hand. Her nails were long, painted a deep crimson.
Confidence is the best accessory, Ines. But I understand.
Could you... would you mind keeping an eye on him? Ines asked, her eyes pleading. Not in a way that encourages him, but just... take care of him. Be a big sister, or a mentor. Just make sure he doesn't wander too far from where he belongs.
Georgina's smile widened, though it didn't reach her eyes. I will be very mindful of your Lamine.
Across the room, Lamine felt his pulse thumping in his throat. He could see the way the gold fabric strained against Georgina's thighs. He imagined the weight of those breasts in his palms, the way they would spill over his fingers. He thought about the nights in his hotel room, the door locked, the blue light of his phone illuminating the screen as he scrolled through her Instagram. He remembered the sound of his own breath, ragged and fast, as he gripped himself, imagining those massive curves pinned beneath him.
Lamine shifted his weight, feeling the sudden, insistent pressure in his trousers. He cleared his throat and stepped toward them.
Hey, Ines. Everything okay? Lamine asked, his voice cracking slightly.
Ines beamed, her anxiety momentarily masked. Just chatting with Georgina. She was just telling me how much she admires your game.
Georgina turned her full attention to Lamine. Her scent hit him like a physical blow—vanilla, jasmine, and something muskier, something that smelled like warm skin.
The way you move on the pitch is poetry, Lamine, Georgina said. So much agility for such a young man.
Lamine felt the heat climb up his neck. I just do what I can for the team, Ms. Rodriguez.
Call me Georgina, she whispered, leaning in just enough for the curve of her breast to brush against his arm.
The contact sent a jolt of electricity straight to his groin. Lamine nearly gasped. He stared at the deep valley of her cleavage, the pale skin glowing under the chandeliers. He wanted to dive in. He wanted to sink his face into that warmth and forget the match, the tournament, and the girl standing right next to him.
The match the following day was a bloodbath of nerves. The stadium roared, a sea of red and white clashing with the deep crimson of Portugal. Lamine played like a man possessed, his movements fluid, his vision surgical. But the game was a grueling war of attrition.
In the final minutes, a defensive lapse from Portugal allowed Spain to break through. Lamine provided the assist, a curving ball that sliced through the defense, leading to the winning goal.
When the whistle blew, the Spanish bench erupted. Lamine fell to his knees, screaming in triumph. Across the pitch, Cristiano Ronaldo stood frozen, his chest heaving, his face a mask of devastated disbelief. He had given everything, but the torch was passing, and it was passing to a teenager who spent his free time dreaming of Ronaldo's partner.
Spain had advanced to the quarterfinals.

———-this is the end of part 1, i’ll post the next parts as the tournament advance in rl to keep your attention more. i want to hit for this part 200 upvotes———— admins please don’t delete my story again, i’ve hitted 203 upvotes but you deleted my story

The crystal chandeliers of the pre-match gala cast fractured light across the ballroom, reflecting off champagne flutes and the polished shoes of the world's elite. The air smelled of expensive oud and nervous sweat. Portugal and Spain were about to collide in the World Cup, and the tension felt like a physical weight in the room.
Georgina Rodriguez moved through the crowd like a slow-motion wave. Her dress was a second skin of shimmering gold fabric that clung to the heavy swell of her breasts and dipped dangerously low at the back, highlighting the expansive, rounded curve of her hips. Every step she took caused the fabric to stretch across her massive backside, drawing the eyes of every man in the room.
Ines Garcia stood near the buffet, her fingers twisting the strap of her cocktail dress. She watched Lamine Yamal from across the room. He was eighteen, a prodigy with the world at his feet, but in this moment, he looked like a hungry wolf. He wasn't looking at the appetizers. He was staring at Georgina.
Georgina glided toward Ines, a knowing smile on her lips.
You look lovely, Ines. A very brave choice of color, Georgina said, her voice a smooth, honeyed contralto.
Ines blinked, snapping back to reality. Thank you. You look... you look incredible. I don't know how you do it.
Georgina laughed, a rich sound that seemed to vibrate in the air. It is just a bit of discipline and the right tailor, darling.
Ines leaned in, her voice dropping to a frantic whisper. Georgina, can I ask you something? Something personal?
Georgina arched a perfectly groomed brow. I am an open book.
Ines glanced at Lamine, who was currently pretending to listen to a teammate while his eyes remained locked on the sway of Georgina's hips. I love him. I really do. But Lamine is so young, and the world is opening up to him. Every time we go to an event, I see the way he looks at women like you. Women who are... well, more developed.
Georgina tilted her head, her gaze following Ines's line of sight. He is a talented boy. Very focused.
I am terrified, Ines admitted, her voice trembling. I am afraid he will wake up one day and realize I am just a girl, and he will want a woman. A goddess. I am scared he will jump into the arms of someone more beautiful, someone who can give him things I can't.
Georgina reached out, patting Ines's hand. Her nails were long, painted a deep crimson.
Confidence is the best accessory, Ines. But I understand.
Could you... would you mind keeping an eye on him? Ines asked, her eyes pleading. Not in a way that encourages him, but just... take care of him. Be a big sister, or a mentor. Just make sure he doesn't wander too far from where he belongs.
Georgina's smile widened, though it didn't reach her eyes. I will be very mindful of your Lamine.
Across the room, Lamine felt his pulse thumping in his throat. He could see the way the gold fabric strained against Georgina's thighs. He imagined the weight of those breasts in his palms, the way they would spill over his fingers. He thought about the nights in his hotel room, the door locked, the blue light of his phone illuminating the screen as he scrolled through her Instagram. He remembered the sound of his own breath, ragged and fast, as he gripped himself, imagining those massive curves pinned beneath him.
Lamine shifted his weight, feeling the sudden, insistent pressure in his trousers. He cleared his throat and stepped toward them.
Hey, Ines. Everything okay? Lamine asked, his voice cracking slightly.
Ines beamed, her anxiety momentarily masked. Just chatting with Georgina. She was just telling me how much she admires your game.
Georgina turned her full attention to Lamine. Her scent hit him like a physical blow—vanilla, jasmine, and something muskier, something that smelled like warm skin.
The way you move on the pitch is poetry, Lamine, Georgina said. So much agility for such a young man.
Lamine felt the heat climb up his neck. I just do what I can for the team, Ms. Rodriguez.
Call me Georgina, she whispered, leaning in just enough for the curve of her breast to brush against his arm.
The contact sent a jolt of electricity straight to his groin. Lamine nearly gasped. He stared at the deep valley of her cleavage, the pale skin glowing under the chandeliers. He wanted to dive in. He wanted to sink his face into that warmth and forget the match, the tournament, and the girl standing right next to him.
The match the following day was a bloodbath of nerves. The stadium roared, a sea of red and white clashing with the deep crimson of Portugal. Lamine played like a man possessed, his movements fluid, his vision surgical. But the game was a grueling war of attrition.
In the final minutes, a defensive lapse from Portugal allowed Spain to break through. Lamine provided the assist, a curving ball that sliced through the defense, leading to the winning goal.
When the whistle blew, the Spanish bench erupted. Lamine fell to his knees, screaming in triumph. Across the pitch, Cristiano Ronaldo stood frozen, his chest heaving, his face a mask of devastated disbelief. He had given everything, but the torch was passing, and it was passing to a teenager who spent his free time dreaming of Ronaldo's partner.
Spain had advanced to the quarterfinals.

———-this is the end of part 1, i’ll post the next parts as the tournament advance in rl to keep your attention more. i want to hit for this part 200 upvotes————

i have some ideas: Jr, Lamine Yamal, a dancer and a gym trainer. tell me what you like from here and the most comments for a character, that character will be in the next story. i’ll post the story when the part 3 of my last story will hit 250 upvotes

Part III
Ronaldo's bedroom was a monument to luxury, with black silk sheets and a huge bed that seemed to swallow Georgina. Guram closed the door and locked it, the sound of the latch marking the beginning of their forbidden chapter.
"Here it is, Georgina. His territory. His trophy."
Guram wasted no time. He grabbed her waist and began to kiss her with a lust accumulated over years. It was a brutal, dominating kiss, their tongues intertwining in a frantic exchange of saliva. Georgina moaned, feeling all her control melt away. Guram began to suck her tongue with an aggressive technique, sucking it in, as his hands quickly moved down her dress.
"You are so beautiful... so huge in all the places that matter," he whispered between kisses.
With a sudden movement, Guram tore the silk of her dress, letting her generous breasts spring out, free. The breasts were perfect, heavy, with pink nipples that instantly hardened under his gaze. Guram leaned down, taking one of them in his palm, squeezing it tightly, while burying his face in the other.
He began to lick the large breasts, with wide, wet strokes, moving from the base of the breast to the sensitive tip. Georgina arched her back, letting out a high-pitched cry.
"Oh, God, Guram! Lick me... please, keep going!"
Guram began to suck on the nipple hard, creating a sucking sound that filled the room. Then, he moved down, his tongue leaving traces of saliva on her abdomen, until he reached the most desired area. He grabbed her huge ass, lifting her hips.
“Look at you… that ass is murder, Georgina. I can’t believe I’ve only touched it once.”
He leaned down and began kissing her buttocks, licking every curve, running his tongue between the folds of her bottom, making a wet, squelching sound that made Georgina tremble violently. Then he moved forward, parting her wet lips.
“You’re so ready for me, aren’t you? You’re flooded.”
Guram began licking her clitoris with surgical precision, making quick circles and pressing with his tongue as his fingers explored the tight entrance. Georgina moaned incessantly, calling out his name as her body convulsed under his touch.
“I want your cock... please, Guram! Put that gigantic cock inside me!”
Guram stood up and pulled his pants down in one swift motion. As it was revealed, Georgina let out a gasp of astonishment. His cock was indeed colossal, a pulsating column of flesh, with prominent veins and a red head, wet with pre-cum.
“Do you want this, Georgina? Do you want to feel me fill you?”
“Yes... please... now!”
Guram climbed onto the bed, placing Georgina on her back, her legs raised and spread wide. He positioned himself at her entrance, feeling her natural lubrication welcome his head. With one powerful thrust, he entered her completely.
“AHHH!” Georgina screamed, her eyes wandering to the ceiling, feeling her vaginal wall stretched to its maximum. “It’s so big... I feel... I feel everything!”
“Feel me, Georgina! Feel me destroy you!”
Guram began to move with brutal force. Each thrust produced an intense shlicking sound, their flesh hitting each other with force. Georgina’s huge ass wobbled with each thrust, bouncing chaotically on the silk sheets. Guram was not delicate; he was a man who reclaimed his honor through flesh.
“F... fuck me! Fuck me like an animal, Guram!”
“You’re mine now! You’re no longer Ronaldo’s trophy, you’re my toy!”
During the act, in the force of the movements, Guram’s cock slipped out once due to sweat and the too-fast pace, hitting her perineum hard before re-entering with a deep squelching sound, hitting her cervix with a force that made Georgina have a violent orgasm.
“GURAM! THEY’VE GOT IT... THEY’VE GOT IT...!”
She began to contract around him, her vaginal walls squeezing him with desperate force. Guram felt pleasure flood him and he began to accelerate, thrusting with all his might, his balls beating rhythmically against her skin.
"I'm almost... Georgina, I feel them coming!"
With a final roar of triumph, Guram pulled his cock out of her at the last second, positioning himself above her face. He came, thick, white jets of cum projecting powerfully onto Georgina's cheek, nose, and lips. She stood there, panting, her face full of his liquid, looking at him with a mixture of ecstasy and submission.
Guram took a deep breath, feeling a satisfaction that nothing else had ever given him. He stood up, picked up his phone, and pulled out a few detailed photos: Georgina lying on Ronaldo's bed, completely naked, her face covered in cum, her huge ass exposed to the camera.
He sent the first photo to Junior.
"Here's your trophy, Junior. It was softer than we imagined."
Then, with a wicked smile, he took Georgina's phone, which had been recovered, and sent another, more explicit photo, to Ana, his wife.
"Look, Ana. This is a real woman. This is what it means to be wanted. Stay at your mother's house and imagine how my dick tasted."
Guram threw the phone on the bed and looked at Georgina, who was smiling weakly, wiping a drop of cum from her upper lip with her tongue.
"Are we ready to go, or do you want to try it one more time in the position Ronaldo loves the most?"
"One more time, Guram. One more time."

————this is the last part of the story hope you liked it and if i get 300 upvotes i’ll post a pool for the next character that will be with geo———-

Part II
The plan was set in motion with surgical precision. Junior was the key piece, orchestrating Ronaldo's movements and providing details about the villa's security system.
"I'm ready, Guram. I've spoken to the boys at school. There are four of them, all of them want money and all of them are willing to cause trouble. I don't know who she really is, but I told them it's just a quick mission."
"Perfect. Make sure I don't hurt her physically, Junior. I just want her to be scared and vulnerable. The rest is up to me."
"We're positioned. They'll pick her up from the shopping mall, when she's alone in the underground parking lot. They'll take her to the old house on the outskirts of town, the one my father bought and has never been to."
"Excellent. I'll be there, waiting for the right moment to come in as the 'savior.'"
One gray afternoon, Georgina was surprised. Four masked teenagers suddenly intervened, blocking her car and dragging her out with a brutality that left her shocked.
“Let me go! Do you know who I am? I will pay dearly for this!”
“Shut up, woman! We don’t care who you are. Just be quiet if you don’t want something worse!”
She was thrown into a car, her mouth covered with duct tape, and driven to the isolated house. She was tied to a chair in a dusty room with only one small window through which a pale light entered. Fear had completely gripped her; the terror of being kidnapped, the loneliness and uncertainty made her tremble incessantly.
After several hours of deafening silence, there was the sound of a broken window and hurried footsteps. The door was torn off its hinges, and Guram entered the room, a flashlight in his hand and a perfectly simulated expression of concern.
“Georgina! My God, you’re here! I found you!”
Georgina began to make harsh sounds through the tape, her large eyes filled with tears and gratitude. Guram rushed towards her, tearing the tape from her mouth with a quick movement.
“Guram! Please, help me! They took me from the parking lot, I don’t know who they are, I don’t know what they want!”
“I’m here, my dear. Don’t be afraid. I found out where you were being held and I came right away. It’s dangerous here, we have to leave now, before they come back!”
“Thank you... oh, thank you! I don’t know what I would have done without you!”
Guram quickly undressed her, but as he did so, his hands deliberately “slid” over her thighs and pelvic area, feeling her tremble not only with fear but also with an instinctive reaction to his touch. He picked her up, feeling the generous weight of her bottom pushing into his arms.
“Come on, let’s run!”
She led him to a hidden car, but instead of taking her to the police or home, she drove to another location. After a while, Georgina began to notice that the road was not the right one.
“Guram… where are we going? Why don’t we go back to the villa? I need to call Cristiano!”
“You can’t, Georgina. Your phone was destroyed by the kidnappers. And honestly… I think it’s best if we don’t go back yet. You’re too vulnerable. We need to stay somewhere where no one can find us until we figure out who organized this.”
“But… why do I feel something is wrong? Guram, look at me.”
He stopped abruptly in a safe house, a discreet property. When he closed the door behind them, the atmosphere changed. Guram was no longer the worried man; he was a predator who had recovered his prey.
“Guram, my position… I’m confused. Why did you bring me here?”
“Your position, Georgina, will be re-discussed. Did you see how easy it was to be taken? How alone you were? Ronaldo wasn’t there. I was the one who risked everything to save you.”
“What do you want from me? Money? I can give you any amount!”
“I don’t want Ronaldo’s money. I want what he considers to be his alone. I want to feel you, Georgina. I want to fuck you until you forget what your husband’s name is.”
Georgina took a step back, but her back hit the cold wall. Her eyes scanned Guram's face, then dropped to his pants, where a powerful form was clearly visible.
"You... you're asking me this? After saving me?"
"I forgive you for everything, Georgina. I forgive you for letting me be humiliated in front of you. I forgive you for Ronaldo's arrogance. But the price of your freedom is your body. Here and now."
Georgina froze, but a spark of dark curiosity lit up her gaze. She thought of the years of routine, the pressure to be "perfect" for the greatest footballer in the world. Then she looked again at that gigantic bulge in Guram's pants.
"You know... I've seen you through your pants many times, Guram. I've noticed... that size. I've sometimes imagined what it would feel like to feel something like that. I'm... a little curious."
Guram grinned, taking a decisive step towards her.
“Curiosity is a dangerous feeling, Georgina. But in your case, it’s exactly what will distract us.”
“We can’t do this here… it’s too cruel.”
“Then we’ll do it where it hurts the most. We’ll go back to Ronaldo’s villa. In your bedroom. We’ll do it right in his bed, so we can feel his spirit being crushed by our pleasure.”
Georgina let out a deep sigh, a mixture of fear and anticipation, as Guram led her back to the luxurious house, now empty, transforming it into a sanctuary of betrayal.

————follow and upvote for part 3 (the final part) and i will post it at 100 upvotes

Part I
In a vast dressing room, surrounded by mirrors reflecting every angle of opulence, Georgina stood motionless, wearing a silk dress that clung to her curves with almost obscene precision. Guram, her stylist, was adjusting the final fold, though his hands trembled slightly.
"Guram, look at me in the mirror. It’s perfect, isn't it?"
"It’s more than perfect, Georgina. This dress was made for your curves, yet even the finest silk seems to struggle to contain it all."
"I love the way you look at me. You know, sometimes I wonder how I’d manage without you. You’re the only one who understands exactly what I need—before I even know it myself."
"I am merely an instrument of your beauty, my dear."
"Don't be modest. I admire you enormously. Your taste, your attention to detail... you’ve turned me into a work of art. I’m grateful for everything."
Guram froze for a second, his palm lingering against the small of her back longer than necessary. He felt the warmth of her skin through the sheer fabric and the sheer volume of her backside, which seemed to invite him to cast aside every shred of professionalism.
"Your admiration is the greatest reward, Georgina. Even my wife, Ana, talks about you constantly. She calls you the epitome of femininity. She’s always telling me how lucky I am to work with you."
"Ana is a sweet woman. It’s lovely that she appreciates me."
"She idolizes you. But I... I see things she can only imagine." Guram let his hand slide—almost imperceptibly—lower, feeling the firmness and provocative curve of her buttocks. Georgina let out a short sound, a sort of gasp, but didn't pull away.
"Guram... what are you doing?"
"Just making sure the fabric doesn't bunch up, Georgina. It’s a matter of technique."
"I can feel you, Guram. That’s not technique."
At that moment, the double doors to the dressing room flew open with a sharp snap. Cristiano Ronaldo strode into the room, his gaze locked on the stylist's hand, which was still pressed against his wife's left buttock. The atmosphere instantly turned electric—pure ice.
"What the hell is going on here?"
Guram jerked his hand away and stepped back, his heart pounding in his throat.
"Cristiano! It’s not what it looks like; I was just adjusting..."
"I saw exactly what you were doing, Guram! I saw you touching her ass! In my house! With my woman!"
"It was a mistake—a slip-up while working, I swear!"
"A mistake? I saw you pressing yourself against her! You’re an animal! Get out! Now!"
"Please, Cristiano, we can talk about this—I’ve worked for you for years!"
"There is no 'us' anymore! You’re fired! Leave before I throw you out myself and make sure you never get another contract in this city! Get out!"
Guram was shoved toward the exit, head bowed, feeling his shame rapidly transform into a cold, visceral rage. As he walked heavily toward the car, Ronaldo’s words echoed in his ears like hammer blows.
"You’ll regret your arrogance, Ronaldo. You’ll regret every second you treated me like dirt."
When he arrived home, Ana was waiting for him in the living room, her expression a mix of bewilderment and anxiety. Her phone was vibrating on the table.
"Guram? What happened? Georgina just messaged me. She says you were fired. She says... that you tried to touch her."
"It was a misunderstanding, Ana. Ronaldo acted impulsively."
"A misunderstanding? Georgina doesn't lie about things like that. She told me you grabbed her ass, Guram! Right in front of him! How could you? After everything I’ve done to support you, after how I admired her—as an image of purity and elegance..."
"Don't be naive! She’s just a woman, Ana! A woman with a body that makes any man lose his mind!"
"I can't believe this. I can't stay in the same house as a man who has no respect for anyone—not even his own wife. I’m leaving, Guram. Right now."
"Where do you think you're going?"
"To my mother's. Right now. I’m taking the kids and leaving. Don't come looking for me."
Guram was left alone in the house that had once been his sanctuary, listening to the sound of the door slamming shut. He collapsed onto the sofa, staring at his hands. Everything was gone. His career, his family, his respect. It was all because of a failed attempt to touch that massive trophy of flesh and silk.
"You want a trophy, Ronaldo? I’ll take your most valuable one. I’ll take that huge ass of Georgina’s, and I’ll make her weep with pleasure while you become nothing but a memory."
He stood up and searched through his contacts. He found the name he knew was the family’s weak spot: Cristiano Jr.
He dialed the number. After a few rings, the teenager’s voice answered—shy, yet curious.
"Hello? Guram?"
"Hi, Junior. Listen closely. I’m in a tight spot, and I need help from someone who knows exactly how things work in your house."
"What happened? My dad told me he kicked you out."
"Yeah, he kicked me out. And he ruined my life. But I have a plan. A plan that lets us both get what we want most."
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb, Junior. I know you. I’ve seen the way you look at Georgina. I’ve seen those stolen glances, that forbidden attraction you try to hide behind the mask of the perfect son. You want to know what it’s like to hold a woman like her in your arms, don’t you? You want to see if she’s as soft as she looks?"
A long silence fell on the other end of the line. Junior’s breathing quickened.
"I don't know... she’s my mom—in a way... practically speaking." "It’s Ronaldo’s trophy, Junior. And I want revenge, too. I want to get my hands on your father’s most prestigious trophy: Georgina Rodriguez’s massive ass. If you help me get her, I’ll give you a gift no other man can offer."
"What kind of help?"
"I need access. I need information and a little distraction. If you help me isolate her, I promise you’ll get your share."
"I’m not agreeing... not just like that. If I’m risking everything, I want something concrete. I want photos, Guram. Nude photos of her. I want to see everything: tits, ass, the works. If you send me photos of her completely naked, I’ll help you with whatever plan you’ve got."
Guram smiled, a predatory look spreading across his face.
"We have an understanding. A fair trade. I accept, Junior. We’ll make Georgina ours."

—————-this is the end of the first part hope you liked it, comment for part 2—————-

The trip ended, and the team began returning to Riyadh. Cristiano had to leave a day early to handle a business matter in the city.
"Bento, could you come to my room for a moment?" Georgina asked him as they were unloading the luggage at the hotel. "I am struggling with the television. I think the cable came loose, and I cannot reach the plug behind the cabinet."
Bento felt a surge of adrenaline. This was it.
"Of course, Geo. I will be right there."
He followed her to the suite. When she opened the door, Bento stopped in his tracks. Georgina was wearing a sheer, black lace negligee that left nothing to the imagination. Her breasts were barely contained by the lace, the dark circles of her nipples visible through the fabric. The bottom was a tiny strip of lace that disappeared into the deep crevice of her massive rear.
"I didn't want to get dressed yet," she said, her voice sounding slightly nervous. "And Naty... she told me to see if you had attractions for anyone else. She thinks you are unhappy. I told her you are a wonderful man, but I wanted to see for myself if there was a spark."
Bento's heart was hammering so hard he thought it might break his ribs.
"The TV is in the corner," she pointed.
Bento walked over, his eyes locked on her. He spent five minutes pretending to fix the cable, his mind racing. He was hyper-aware of her presence behind him, the scent of her skin filling the room.
"All fixed," he said, turning around.
Georgina was holding a glass of water. As she stepped toward him, she tripped slightly on the edge of the rug. The water splashed forward, soaking the front of her lace negligee. The fabric became transparent instantly, clinging to her tits and highlighting the dark, erect nipples.
"Oh! I am so clumsy!" she cried, looking down at herself.
Without thinking, she reached back and unclipped her bra, letting the lace fall away. She quickly turned her back to him, shielding her breasts from his view, her massive, bare rear now facing him in all its glory.
"I need to dry this off," she said, her voice trembling.
Bento didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, burying his face directly into the plush, warm valley of her backside. He let out a guttural groan, his mouth pressing into the soft flesh.
"What are you doing!" Georgina screamed, though she didn't push him away.
Bento looked up, his eyes wild.
"I cannot take it anymore, Geo. I have dreamed about this every single second. I have looked at your photos, I have smelled your perfume, I have felt you on my back. I need a reward for helping you. I need you."
"I cannot... I cannot cheat on Cristiano," she whispered, her breath hitching.
Bento didn't answer with words. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him. He began to kiss her neck, his tongue tracing the line of her jaw. He reached down, gripping her massive ass with both hands, squeezing the flesh with a raw, desperate hunger.
"He doesn't love you like I would," Bento groaned, his voice a low growl. "He is a legend, but I am a man who is starving for you."
Georgina let out a long, shuddering moan. The tension that had been building in Dubai finally snapped. She turned around in his arms, her bare breasts pressing into his chest. She looked into his eyes and saw a fire that Cristiano's disciplined nature had long since replaced with routine.
"You are so young," she whispered.
"I am exactly the right age to worship you," he replied.
He crashed his lips against hers. It was not a gentle kiss; it was a collision. Their tongues clashed, exchanging saliva in a frantic, wet rhythm. Bento's hands migrated from her ass to her breasts, kneading the heavy globes, his thumbs flicking across her nipples.
He lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist, and carried her to the bed. He laid her down on the silk sheets, the black lace of her negligee now a useless scrap of fabric. He stripped off his own clothes with feverish haste, his cock springing free, thick and pulsing with anticipation.
Georgina gasped, her eyes widening as she looked at him.
"My god, Bento..."
"Do you like it?" he asked, his voice husky.
"Cristiano... he has a much smaller cock than yours," she confessed, her voice a breathy whisper. "I have never seen anything like this."
Bento smirked, the triumph tasting sweeter than any victory on the pitch. He moved between her legs, parting them wide. He looked at her pussy, wet and glistening, the pink lips inviting him in.
"I am going to fill you up, Geo. I am going to make you forget every other man."
He entered her in one slow, deliberate thrust. The sensation was overwhelming; she was tight, hot, and incredibly wet. Georgina arched her back, a loud, piercing scream escaping her lips.
"Oh god! Yes! Right there!"
Bento began to move, his thrusts deep and rhythmic. The sound of their bodies colliding filled the room—a wet, shlicking noise as his cock slid in and out of her. He watched as her massive tits bounced with every impact, the skin flushing a deep pink.
"Tell me," Bento groaned, his sweat dripping onto her chest. "Tell me how it feels."
"It is too much... you are so big... you are hitting my cervix!" she cried out, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "I can feel you everywhere!"
Bento shifted positions, flipping her over onto her hands and knees. He gripped her hips, pulling her backside up high. The view was magnificent—the massive, rounded cheeks of her ass shaking with every movement. He slammed into her from behind, the sound of his balls slapping against her skin echoing like a drum.
"I have wanted to fuck this ass since the first day I saw you," Bento whispered, his voice vulgar and raw. "I wanted to break you open."
"Fuck me, Bento! Harder! Please!"
He complied, his thrusts becoming more violent, more desperate. He reached forward, grabbing her breasts and pulling her back toward him. The friction was intense, the heat between them rising to a boiling point.
"I have never fucked Naty like this," Bento confessed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "She is a child compared to you. You are a woman. You are a goddess."
Georgina let out a series of short, sharp moans, her body beginning to tremble.
"I am... I am coming! Bento, I am coming!"
Her internal muscles clamped down on him in a series of powerful contractions. Bento felt the surge, the overwhelming pressure building at the base of his spine. He let out a roar, thrusting one last time, burying himself as deep as possible. He ejaculated inside her, a hot, thick torrent that filled her womb.
They collapsed together, their skin slick with sweat and fluids. The room fell silent, save for the sound of their heavy breathing.
Bento rolled onto his side, pulling Georgina into his arms. He felt a profound sense of peace, the hunger that had consumed him for months finally sated. He wrapped one arm around her waist and let his hand rest naturally on the massive curve of her rear, squeezing it gently.
"What happens now?" she whispered, her voice exhausted.
"Now," Bento replied, closing his eyes. "We sleep."
As they drifted off, the world outside continued to turn, oblivious to the secret forged in the heat of the Dubai suite. Naty remained convinced that her husband was simply stressed, and the only person who knew the truth was Sadio Mane, who simply smiled to himself, knowing that some games are won off the pitch.

————this is the final part of my story hope you like it and let me know what story of geo should i make next————

The following week at the training facility, the tension was palpable, though only a few noticed. Sadio Mane stood by the water station, his sharp eyes tracking Bento as the goalkeeper laughed a bit too loudly at something Georgina said near the sidelines.
"You are playing a dangerous game, Bento," Mane said quietly as Bento walked past.
Bento stopped, blinking.
"What do you mean, Sadio?"
"I see how you look at her. I see how you position yourself whenever she enters the room. It is not the look of a teammate's friend. It is the look of a predator."
Bento laughed, though it sounded forced.
"You are imagining things, Mane. She is just friendly."
"Friendliness does not make a man forget to breathe when a woman walks by," Mane replied, his voice calm and warning. "Be careful. Cristiano is a professional on the pitch, but he is a lion with what belongs to him."
Bento shrugged him off and headed toward the gym, where Joao Felix was waiting.
"Mane is onto you," Felix said, grinning as he spotted Bento's expression.
"He is just being a killjoy," Bento replied, dropping his gear.
"He is being observant. But that just makes it more exciting, doesn't it? The thrill of the heist."
Bento sat on the weight bench, staring at the ceiling.
"Naty asked Georgina to spend more time with me. Can you believe that? She actually thinks I am cheating and wants Geo to find out."
Felix burst out laughing, nearly dropping a dumbbell.
"That is the best news I have heard all year! The door is not just open, Bento, it is swinging wide. Naty just gave you a golden ticket."
"Do you really think it will work?"
"Listen," Felix said, leaning in. "I told you before, she is older, more mature. That is exactly why she will be intrigued if you play it right. Stop acting like a fanboy and start acting like a man who knows what he wants. She is used to Ronaldo's intensity. Give her something different. Give her a raw, youthful hunger."
"She is so much more than the photos," Bento whispered.
"Then go get her. Just make sure you do not get caught until the deed is done."

The Al Nassr squad had traveled to Dubai for a mid-season break. The hotel was an architectural marvel, an open-air sanctuary with white marble floors, cascading waterfalls, and palm trees that swayed in the warm Gulf breeze.
The first evening, the team hosted a gala dinner under the stars. Soft music drifted through the air, mixing with the scent of oud and roasting meats. Bento watched Georgina from across the patio. She wore a dress of shimmering emerald silk that clung to her curves like a second skin. The neckline plunged low, teasing the tops of her breasts, and the fabric stretched precariously over her massive rear.
Bento waited until Ronaldo was deep in conversation with the team manager before he made his move. He walked up to her, his heart thumping.
"You look incredible, Georgina," he said, his voice steady.
"Thank you, Bento. You look very sharp yourself."
"Would you honor me with a dance?"
Georgina looked toward Cristiano, who smiled and nodded, encouraging her.
"I would love to," she said.
As they stepped onto the dance floor, Bento placed his hand on the small of her back. The silk was thin, and he could feel the heat of her skin beneath. As the music slowed, he pulled her closer, eliminating the gap between them. He felt the soft press of her breasts against his chest.
As they swayed, Bento let his hand slide down. He didn't stop at her waist. His palm descended, molding itself to the curve of her hip and then landing firmly on the swell of her backside. He squeezed, just a light, rhythmic pressure that timed with the music.
Georgina didn't pull away. She leaned her head on his shoulder, her eyes closing.
"You are a very good dancer, Bento," she whispered.
"I just follow the lead," he replied, his fingers digging slightly deeper into the plush flesh of her rear. He moved his hand in a slow, circular motion, feeling the incredible mass of her. He was certain she felt it, but she remained relaxed, attributing it to the closeness of the dance.
The next morning, the team headed into the desert for a camel trek. The sun was a golden disc in a cloudless sky, and the sand stretched out in infinite ripples of orange.
"I want to ride with Bento!" Georgina announced, laughing as she climbed onto a large, decorated camel.
Bento climbed up behind her, his legs straddling the animal's hump. He was pressed firmly against her back. Every time the camel stepped, Georgina's body jolted, pushing her massive rear directly into his groin. Bento groaned softly, the friction sending sparks through his nerves.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tight. He didn't just hold her; he let his hands wander. While she looked out at the dunes, Bento's palms slid upward. He brushed his thumbs across the underside of her breasts, feeling the firmness of her tits through her light linen shirt.
"The view is breathtaking, isn't it?" Georgina asked, leaning back into him.
"Absolutely breathtaking," Bento whispered, his face buried in the crook of her neck. He inhaled her scent, a mixture of sun-warmed skin and expensive lotion. He let one hand slip down again, gripping her butt cheek and kneading it like dough.
"Bento, you are so affectionate today," she giggled, not moving his hand. "Are you always this cuddly with your friends?"
"I just appreciate beauty when I see it, Geo," he replied, his voice thick with desire.
Later that afternoon, the team organized a series of games on the beach to keep the mood light. One game involved tying balloons to the backs of the players. The goal was to pop the most balloons using only your backside in thirty seconds.
"This is ridiculous!" Ronaldo laughed, though he was competitive as ever.
"I bet I can beat all of you," Georgina challenged, her eyes sparkling.
The whistle blew. The beach erupted into chaos. Georgina moved with a surprising agility, twisting and backing into the balloons with powerful, rhythmic thrusts of her hips. Her massive rear acted like a hammer, popping balloon after balloon. The other players watched in awe as she dominated the game, her hips swaying with a natural, sensual grace.
"I win!" she shouted, throwing her arms up.
"I think we all won just by watching," Felix joked, nudging Bento.
Bento couldn't speak. He was staring at the way her dress had ridden up, exposing the bottom curve of her cheeks. He felt like he was starving and she was a feast.
The festivities moved to the hotel pool. The water was a sparkling turquoise, reflecting the midday sun. Bento was swimming laps when he saw Georgina sitting on the edge, dangling her feet in the water.
"I don't want to get my hair wet," she said, pouting.
"I have a better idea," Bento said, swimming over to her. "Jump on my back."
Georgina laughed but complied, wrapping her arms around his neck. As Bento lifted her, he felt the full weight of her breasts pressing against his shoulders and the immense curve of her ass resting against his lower back. He swam through the pool with her on his back, the water creating a slick lubricant between their bodies. He could feel her heart beating against him, and he knew she felt the hardness of his cock pressing into her thigh.
"You are so strong, Bento," she whispered in his ear.
"I have been training hard," he replied, his voice strained.
Throughout the trip, the atmosphere remained one of playful friendship. Ronaldo treated Bento like a younger brother, completely unaware of the war being waged in the goalkeeper's mind. Sadio Mane, however, remained silent, watching from the periphery with a knowing, skeptical look.

———- like and comment for part 3 where the atmosphere will reach its final climate———-

The Al Nassr locker room smelled of expensive liniment, stale sweat, and the metallic tang of sports drinks. Bento sat on the wooden bench, his jersey peeled halfway up his torso, staring at his phone. He scrolled through Georgina's Instagram feed, his thumb hovering over a photo of her in a tight gold dress that clung to every curve of her hips. He felt a familiar heat stir in his groin, the fabric of his training shorts suddenly feeling too tight. He shifted his weight, imagining the weight of those breasts in his hands.
The heavy door creaked open. The scent of Chanel and something floral cut through the locker room musk. Bento looked up, his heart hammering against his ribs. Georgina stood there, looking like a goddess who had accidentally wandered into a cave of athletes. She wore a white sundress that skimmed her massive hips and highlighted the deep tan of her skin.
"Hi, Bento," she said, her voice a soft, melodic purr.
Bento stood up quickly, nearly dropping his phone. He tried to keep his eyes on her face, but they kept drifting down to the swell of her chest.
"Hey, Georgina. What brings you here?"
"I am looking for Cristiano. Is he still here? I thought he finished training an hour ago."
Bento stepped closer, the distance between them shrinking. He could smell the sweetness of her perfume.
"He is not here, Geo. He is already in the stands. He is not playing today, so he went up to watch from the VIP box."
Georgina sighed, a small pout forming on her lips.
"Oh, really? He did not tell me. I wanted to give him his vitamins before the match starts."
"He is probably already settled in," Bento said, his voice dropping an octave. "You know how he is about his routine."
"True," she laughed, a light sound that made Bento's skin prickle. "Thank you, Bento. You are very kind."
"Anytime," he replied.
Georgina turned to leave, but she stopped suddenly, glancing down at her foot.
"Oh, my lace is loose. I cannot walk like this."
She leaned over, bending her body at the waist to reach her shoe. The movement was slow and deliberate. The white fabric of her dress stretched taut across her backside, revealing the staggering scale of her rear. It was a massive, rounded landscape that seemed to defy gravity. Bento felt his mouth go dry. He didn't think; he just reacted. He whipped out his phone and snapped a clear, high-resolution photo of the view.
"All done," Georgina said, standing back up and smoothing the dress over her hips. She beamed at him. "See you later!"
As she disappeared through the door, a low whistle echoed from the corner of the room. Joao Felix was leaning against a locker, a smirk plastered on his face.
"You are a dead man if Ronaldo finds out," Felix said, walking over.
Bento looked at the photo on his screen, his chest heaving.
"Look at that, Joao. Just look at it. I cannot sleep thinking about that ass."
Felix glanced at the screen and chuckled.
"It is a masterpiece, I will give you that. But she is out of your league, mate. She is with the King."
"I do not care about the King," Bento whispered, his eyes locked on the image. "I want the Queen."
"She is six years older than you, Bento. A mature woman like that does not look at a kid like you unless you have a plan."
"I have a plan," Bento said, his voice trembling with desire. "I just need a way in."

Later that evening, the city lights of Riyadh shimmered outside a high-end cafe. Georgina sat across from Naty, Bento's wife. The two women sipped chilled fruit juices, the atmosphere relaxed and intimate.
"I just feel like something is off," Naty said, stirring her drink with a straw. Her expression was clouded with worry.
"What do you mean, Naty?" Georgina asked, leaning forward.
"Bento. He is distant. Not in a bad way, but he is not present. When we are in bed, he is there, but it feels like his mind is somewhere else. He spends so much time on his phone, scrolling through social media."
Georgina frowned, her maternal instincts kicking in.
"Maybe it is just the pressure of the season? Being the goalkeeper for a team with Ronaldo is a lot of stress."
"I thought that too," Naty sighed. "But I suspect he has an eye for someone else. He has this look in his eyes sometimes. A hunger. I do not think it is for me anymore."
Georgina reached across the table, squeezing Naty's hand.
"You are beautiful, Naty. Any man would be lucky to have you."
"I know, but he does not seem to see it right now. Geo, you are his friend's partner. You are a woman who knows how to handle men like them. Could you do something for me?"
Georgina looked curious.
"Anything. What is it?"
"Spend more time with him," Naty pleaded. "Not in a weird way, but just... be around him. Talk to him. See if you can figure out if he is hiding something. If he is attracted to someone else, he might let it slip around you because he trusts the circle. I just want to know the truth before I lose my mind."
Georgina hesitated, thinking of her own relationship with Cristiano.
"I do not want to cause trouble, Naty."
"You would not be causing trouble. You would be helping a friend. Please. I cannot keep wondering every time he looks at his phone who he is dreaming about."
Georgina smiled softly, her heart softening for the younger woman.
"Okay. I will keep an eye on him. I will find a way to get him talking. If Bento is hiding a secret, I will find it."
"Thank you, Geo. I owe you so much."

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