Duty Calls

In the dim haze of a fractured night, tears streak the face of young Carmen (Ember Snow), an 18-year-old beauty shattered by betrayal. Brett (Johnny Goodluck), her boyfriend's sly older brother, slinks through the door, his eyes narrowing like a wolf scenting blood in the vulnerability she bleeds. He pries out the sordid tale: a blistering row over her gnawing jealousy of other women, her man bolting in rage, leaving her sobbing alone. Brett's grin twists wicked—chaos calls, and he's answering. He slides close, voice a velvet snare, murmuring sympathies, branding his brother a heartless prick. Probing her age, he smirks at eighteen, claiming his years grant sharper instincts in love's dirty games. 'Ditch him,' he urges, fabricating a breakup to twist the knife deeper, her fresh anguish a delicious spark. Now the real hunt: he pushes her toward revenge-fueled fucking, a raw thrust against her ex's ego. She resists, clinging to illusions of devotion, but Brett strikes her soft spots—how can she swear he hasn't been pounding other sluts? Doubt creeps in, a venomous itch. He amps the heat: imagine his brother's rage if you spread for me, right here, hard and unforgiving? Her fury boils over—betrayal, rage, raw need—and she surges forward, lips crashing into his in a forbidden, seething kiss, the fuse lit for darker sins.