Stefano ditches her, a night out with his estranged milf sister Patrizia!

The Debt Collector’s Bargain

The air inside Monica’s Café was thick with the scent of espresso and sugar, the low hum of conversation drowned out by the rhythmic click-clack of Patrizia’s manicured nails against the marble tabletop.

"Ah, their Sex on the bitch are perfect! Ah, beach? Sowwy, engrish isn't my first lingua chico!! Can we have an expresso Monica? Wait, your name is Elena? Then why the hell is this place called, n-nevermind..."

The voluptuous milf sat across from Stefano, her knee bouncing with restless energy, his elder sister's too-tight boho dress straining against the swell of her fat tits every time she leaned forward.

"Damn..."

Stefano watched her with lazy amusement, swirling his bourbon in slow circles, the ice clinking like the chime of a distant bell. His incubus senses flared, peeling back the layers of her desperation like the petals of a dying flower.

Mortgage payments. Gambling debts. A lie about Nora’s "cram school."

And beneath it all—the truth.

Nora wasn’t at cram school.

She was at the Casino Liegi, waiting in a backroom with her skirt hiked up, his niece's tight asshole promised to a high roller to cover Patrizia’s latest losses.

"I would have never thought... this is insane, yet strangely arousing."

The thought sent a dark thrill through Stefano’s veins. Nora's perverted mother was unaware the incubus had seen through her facade.

"What ever happened to us?" Patrizia sighed, twirling a strand of honey-blonde hair around her finger. "We used to be so close. Now it’s like we just argue all the time."

Stefano smirked. "When we were still in high school, you just seemed too hot to be my 'cool' friend anymore." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a velvet purr. "If I’m being honest, it actually hurt for a while."

Patrizia’s breath hitched. Her lithe fingers tightened around her espresso cup.

"I miss watching movies with you," she admitted, her voice softer now, almost fragile. "Just talking about things. No bullshit."

Stefano’s incubus instincts hummed. He could see the memories flickering behind her eyes—late-night horror marathons, stolen sips of their father’s wine, the way she used to curl into his side when she got scared.

"Ugh, I miss that too," she groaned, rubbing her temples. "I was such a bitch in high school. Always chasing after popularity, barely learning anything. And look where all of that got me..."

Her gaze flicked to the Casino Liegi across the street, its neon sign glowing like a predator’s eye in the dark.

Stefano’s fat cock stirred.

"Well, we’re in the same boat, you and I," he murmured, watching her closely.

Patrizia’s luscious red lips parted, then closed. "I think we just ended up tearing each other apart," she whispered. "And I don’t really blame you. After dad remarried, I..."

She trailed off, her gaze dropping to his lap.

"O-Ohmygod, he is huge... where did he hide that monster?"

Stefano didn’t need to read her mind to know what she was thinking, yeah besides his sister's perverted comments. Their father’s remarriage had been the final fracture in their bond—Patrizia, the rebellious wild child, shipped off to boarding school, while Stefano, the golden boy, stayed behind.

"..."

Silence stretched between them, thick with unsaid words.

Then—

Patrizia gravitated closer, her curvy thigh brushing his under the table.

"Yeah," she breathed, her smoky contraltto barely audible over the café’s jazz music. "We both could have handled it better."

Her hand twitched toward his—reached—then fell back to her side, as if she couldn’t quite bridge the gap.

Stefano’s incubus instincts flared.

"Here it comes..."

He knew the drill...

"Anyways," Patrizia said suddenly, forcing a bright smile, "we should really hang out more often. I don’t remember you being so cool."

Stefano chuckled, swirling his bourbon. "Is that so?"

"Plus," she added, her erotic contralto dropping to a hushed, almost intimate tone, "I really miss having you around to talk to."

There it was.

"How predictable."

The hook.

Stefano’s incubus senses peeled back the layers of her performance.

3000 euros. That’s what she was after. A "loan" for her "emergency bills."

And yet, beneath the desperation, the scheming—

She missed him.

"I-I can't keep doing this to him... Nora must hate me to the bone already, now even my brother... I'm so fucked up..." A soul fragment, oozing with regret, it seemed she still had a shred of integrity buried in there...

Really missed him.

Stefano leaned back, his smirk widening. "I’d like that," he said smoothly. "Maybe we can watch some movies? Like we used to?"

Patrizia’s cheeks flushed. "A-anytime, Stefano." She glanced at her phone, biting her lip. "Sorry, but I gotta go. Nora’s—"

"Nora?" Stefano arched a brow.

Patrizia’s thoughts screamed with panic—Nora was at the casino, Nora was waiting for the high roller, Nora’s tight little asshole was—

"Cram school," she blurted. "She’s, uh, staying late tonight."

Stefano laughed, deep and rich, his incubus charm oozing into the air between them. "Of course. Cram school."

He reached into his jacket, pulling out a thick envelope—3000 euros, exactly what she needed—and slid it across the table.

"H-How did he already... nevermind, I really need this." A mental echo, it was kinda scary how she just went along... no questions at all, his sister must be really ****.

Patrizia’s breath caught.

"For your... emergency," he murmured, his fingers lingering against hers. "No need to pay me back."

Her eyes widened.

She knew he knew.

And yet—

"T-thank you," she stammered, clutching the envelope like a lifeline.

Stefano stood, his shadow looming over her as he leaned down, his lips brushing her ear.

"Tell me, Patri," he purred, his voice laced with dark promise, "what’s really happening at 'cram school' tonight?"

Patrizia shivered, her curvy thighs pressing together.

"N-nothing," she whispered.

Stefano’s hand slid down her back, cupping her huge ass through the thin fabric of her dress.

"Liar," he growled.

Patrizia moaned, the gambling addict sister's voluptuous body arching into his touch.

"S-Stefano—"

He silenced her with a stare.

"You’re whoring out your own daughter," he hissed, the incubus' claws digging into her supple flesh. "Selling her tight asshole to pay your debts."

Patrizia whimpered, her hungry pussy dripping at the accusation.

"I—I had to—"

Stefano yanked her up, pinning his sinful sister against the café wall, the sex demon's fat cock grinding against her stomach.

"No," he snarled. "You didn’t. There is always a choice, slut."

Patrizia sobbed, her manicured nails scraping at his chest.

"P-please—"

"Beg," he ordered, his deep baritone laced with hypnotic compulsion.

Patrizia broke.

"F-fuck me instead!" she wailed, his sister's wide childbearing hips jerking against him. "Use me! I’ll—I’ll do anything—just don’t let them touch her—!"

Stefano growled, his demonic claws tearing through her dress, exposing her fat dripping pussy to the cool air.

"On your knees," he commanded.

Patrizia dropped, her luscious cocksucking pillow lips parting automatically, the curvy slut's submission complete.

Stefano fisted her hair, slapping his cock against her tongue.

"Suck," he ordered. "And then you’re calling Nora. Canceling her appointment."

Patrizia nodded frantically, his siter's mouth stretching around the middle-aged man's girth, her shame fueling his dominance.

*GLOCK!*

*GLOCK!!*

*GLOCK!*

Stefano groaned, the incubus' manly hips jerking forward, his fat cock plunging down her throat.

"Good girl," he praised, his free hand groping her fat mommy milkers. "Now swallow."

Patrizia obeyed, the voluptuous milf's throatpussy fluttering around her own brother's dick, her tears mixing with her arousal.

And as Stefano filled her mouth, his seed dripping down her chin, he knew—

Tonight, he wouldn’t just save Nora.

He’d claim them both.