I stood in front of my college dorm in a summer floral dress, waiting for my boyfriend, David. A white VW Passat roared up, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw David behind the wheel, flashing a big smile. Once inside the car, I leaned in to kiss him, but he glared.

"Don't slam the door so hard. My car is sensitive," he snapped. 

I pulled back, fuming, crossing my arms tightly as he drove off.

His car was his life, and I got it—he worked hard to buy it. But sometimes, it felt like he cared more about those four wheels than he did about me. Sure, we didn't have tons in common outside the bedroom, but at 20, I thought being in love was enough. And, well, his impressive size definitely made up for the emotional distance between us.

As usual, we drove past various parking lots, searching for one that was empty enough for us to have sex in his car, but every spot seemed packed. After an hour of cruising around, David turned onto an unfamiliar street.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Back to my place," he replied.

When I realized he was taking me to his house for the first time, I couldn't help but beam. Meeting his dad felt like a big step.

"Dad should be at work for a few more hours, so we'll have enough time," David added.

My smile faded, realizing he wasn't taking me seriously after all.

He parked in the garage, led me up the stairs, and brought me straight to his room without even offering a quick tour of the place.

Oblivious to my now-muted excitement, David started undressing, so I went along and did the same. As I climbed onto the bed, he opened the drawer, pulled out a condom, and started tearing it open.

"David, how about we don't use it this time?" I asked, wanting to feel him bare. The idea of him finishing inside me was a thrill I couldn't shake.

"No," he said firmly. "I don't want to knock you up."

"But I'm on the pill!"

"It's not a hundred percent effective," he replied, "and I'm not repeating my parents' mistakes."

I knew David was the result of teenage parents, and his childhood had been filled with arguments and chaos. His mom had never been ready to be a parent, and when she left him at two, never to return, it left a mark on him. I understood why he was cautious, but still, we'd been together for weeks, and I wanted to feel him—really feel him—without any barriers.

"But David—"

"Stop it, Anna," he cut me off. "This is about fun and experimenting. I'm not ready for anything serious, and I definitely don't want to risk getting you pregnant."

His words stung. I didn't want to get pregnant either, but after weeks of being together, I'd assumed we were more than just a casual fling. Guess not.

I lost any desire to have sex, but to avoid an argument, I kept my mouth shut as he climbed on top of me. His movements were quick and relentless, more like impatient thrusting than anything thoughtful or intimate. It felt mechanical, leaving me feeling disconnected and uncomfortable. David seemed focused only on his own pleasure, not noticing how I was tensing beneath him. About two minutes later, he was done and got up, heading to the bathroom to remove the condom.

I sat up in bed, weighing whether I should ask him to drive me home or just call a taxi. When he returned, I took a breath and said, "I should probably go."

He shrugged. "Just crash here. I'll sneak you out in the morning before my dad gets up and drive you back to the dorm."

I hesitated, nodding after a moment. The idea of being "snuck out" didn't sit right with me, but I wasn't in the mood for a fight. So, I lay back down, turning away as he slid into bed and fell asleep almost instantly, leaving me staring at the wall.

Was this really what I wanted? Was this what being with men was supposed to feel like? Just hoping they'd see you as more than just something to pass the time with? Was this all sex was supposed to be?

With David, I rarely came. The rush of getting caught when we had sex in his car in a random parking lot—the danger—that was what pushed me over the edge. But every other time? I couldn't reach that release. I just couldn't get there with him, no matter how hard I tried. Was this it? Was this all there was?

Feeling the need to clear my head, I slipped on my dress without bothering to find my underwear and quietly headed downstairs. As I stepped into the hallway, the sensor lights blinked on one by one, casting a faint glow that followed me down the hall. I remembered spotting the kitchen on our way up, so I wandered in that direction, hoping a glass of water might help calm my thoughts.

I walked barefoot across the cold tiles, feeling the chill under my feet as I approached the kitchen. The room was sleek and modern, with glossy black countertops and stainless steel appliances that reflected the low lighting. I turned on a pendant light above the island, which cast a soft glow across the marble backsplash.

After a few tries, I found the cabinet with neatly stacked glasses, grabbed one, and poured water from a glass pitcher on the counter. I took a sip, hoping the cold water might settle my thoughts.

"You must be my son's friend," a husky voice came from the hall.

I nearly choked on my water and turned to see a tall, dark-haired man standing in the doorway. He wore only pajama pants, his defined chest bare, and a faint stubble lined his face. He looked a lot like David, but with an effortless charm that age had only added to.

"Didn't mean to startle you," he said, his tone warm. "I'm David's dad."

"I'm Anna," I replied, still catching my breath.

He walked over, extending a hand with a smile. I shook his hand, feeling a slight warmth in his grip.

"I got thirsty too," he said, reaching for a glass and filling it with water.

He sipped, his gaze fixed on me, brown eyes intense and unblinking. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks as his eyes drifted lower, catching the faint outline of my nipples through the thin fabric of my dress.

"I should probably get back to bed," I murmured, suddenly feeling the need to escape the kitchen.

He didn't respond right away, just set his glass down and leaned back slightly. "I can't sleep either," he said finally. "Was thinking of watching a movie. You're welcome to join me, if you'd like."

I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep, so I nodded, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and caution welling up inside me.

"Sure," I said quietly, following him into the living room, where he flicked on a lamp, adjusting it so the light dimmed just enough to create a warm, intimate glow over the space.

He selected a movie, took a seat at one end of the couch, leaving a comfortable space for me beside him. I settled in, and he handed me a blanket, which I pulled over my legs.

The movie started, showing a stylish couple living it up in a fancy New York apartment. The chemistry between them was obvious, but there was this weird tension hanging in the air as they moved through parties and more private moments.

I tried to focus on the film, but my attention kept drifting. Every subtle shift he made on the couch, every casual glance he cast in my direction, sent a flicker of heat through me. His arm rested along the back of the couch, his fingers tapping lightly, just a few inches from my shoulder.

"Comfortable?" he asked after a few minutes, his voice low, laced with an edge I couldn't quite read.

"Yeah," I murmured, eyes fixed on the screen as the air between us felt more charged with each passing second.

The scene switched to a massive mansion, full of masked guests moving like they were in a trance. Soft, eerie music played in the background as people in fancy outfits mingled under the soft candlelight. In the middle of the room, something intense was happening—guests stood in a circle, watching quietly as women undressed. My breath caught as they revealed their curves, completely bare.

I bit my lower lip as the women on the screen leaned in, their lips meeting in a slow, lingering kiss. The intensity of it caught my attention, stirring something inside me I hadn't been ready for. I felt him shift beside me, the warmth of his body so close suddenly making the air feel heavier.

I glanced over and caught him watching me, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I see you like girls too," he said, not asking but stating it like he already knew. He wasn't wrong, though I hadn't been with a girl before.

"I prefer men," I blurted, feeling my cheeks go hot.

"Really? Men? Not boys like my son?" he said, a slow, sexy smile spreading across his lips as his gaze locked onto mine. The air between us seemed to pulse with tension.

"Erm…" I stammered, searching for words, but my mind was blank.

He shifted closer, propping his head on his hand as he stared at me. His scent—a mix of spice and musk—wrapped around me. I realized David sometimes smelled like this too; he must have borrowed his father's cologne.

"How many men have you been with, Anna? Hmm?" he asked.

"David's my first boyfriend," I muttered, hoping he'd drop it and look back at the movie.

But he didn't. He just kept watching me, his eyes tracing my face with that knowing smile, a look that felt almost amused, like he knew something I didn't. The silence felt heavy and thick, making my skin prickle.

Under the tension, I felt compelled to say something. "Actually… no, David's not my boyfriend. He doesn't want anything serious."

Admitting it out loud stung, but before I could dwell on it, he let out a low chuckle.

"I didn't know my son was an idiot," he murmured, shaking his head with a small smile. "Not wanting to hold on to a pretty girl like you?"

If my cheeks were hot before, they were scorching now. I dropped my gaze, a shy smile tugging at my lips. He reached out, his fingers curling gently around my chin, lifting it until my eyes met his. The touch was tender, but there was something in his gaze that made my heart race. Why did he have this effect on me?

I knew, rationally, that I should pull away, that I needed space. But I didn't want to. My breath caught in my throat as he tilted his head slightly, and I thought he was going to kiss me. I knew I would let him.

"Do you know how beautiful you are, Anna?" he asked softly, his thumb brushing my jaw.

His intense gaze pulled me in as if he'd reeled me in by a string. The space between us felt electric, and my pulse was racing as his fingers drifted lower, settling at the base of my neck.

"Do I make you nervous, Anna?" he murmured, his gaze flickering to my mouth.

I swallowed, feeling my lips part instinctively. "No," I lied, barely getting the word out.

A smirk danced at the corner of his lips. "Not even when…" he paused, letting his fingers trace my collarbone before casually sliding the strap of my dress off my shoulder. "… I do this?" he finished, his touch burning my skin. He leaned in, his breath brushing my lips, voice dropping to a whisper. "You're a terrible liar, Anna."

He was so close that the warmth of his skin practically sparked against mine. His fingers trailed down my arm, and he tugged the blanket away, letting it fall to the floor. His hand settled on my knee, making my pulse throb in my throat as the quiet hum of the movie played in the background.

"Tell me, Anna," he said, his voice low, almost daring, "if I kissed you right now… would you stop me?"

His fingertips traced slow, teasing circles across my thigh, pushing the hem of my dress higher. I didn't just allow him; I craved it, wishing he'd go further, needing him to. A kiss wouldn't be enough—I wanted to know what it felt like to be with a man like him.

"No," I whispered, my voice barely audible, but he heard.

His lips met mine in a lingering, featherlight touch, as if he were savoring every second of being with me, making me feel seen, cherished, like I was the only thing that mattered at that moment. His hand slid up my thigh, moving with careful precision, as if testing my reactions, letting every second of contact stretch out between us. I could feel the warmth of his palm seeping into my skin, the pressure building as his fingers inched higher.

He traced my lower lip with the tip of his tongue, just enough to tease, until I couldn't help but part my lips for him, and he deepened the kiss with a confident, unhurried rhythm that took control of every thought I had. There was a quiet dominance in the way he kissed, firm yet impossibly tender, making me feel as if I had no choice but to follow his lead. My body pressed closer to his, instinctively responding to a need I hadn't expected to feel so strongly.

His kiss grew more insistent, his tongue exploring while his fingers brushed against my engorged and sensitive labia, leaving no doubt about what he wanted—and what I wanted too.

As his fingertips continued their maddeningly slow exploration, delicately parting my nether lips, a rush of heat and anticipation flooded through me, making me ache in ways I couldn't bear. Every nerve ending in my body seemed to be on fire, yearning to feel more of him. My cheeks flushed as I was both embarrassed and captivated by how effortlessly he could unravel me with the barest touch.

He pulled his fingers and lips away, leaving me breathless and longing. A frustrated sound escaped me, the fear that he might've changed his mind creeping in. But he only looked at me, his eyes darkening, then slid his hands to the hem of my dress.

"How about we get this off?" he said, his voice low, more of a statement than a question as he began lifting the dress.

I lifted my arms, letting him slide the dress up and over, and as it fell to the floor, his eyes roamed over my bare chest, taking in every detail as if he were memorizing my body. I felt a rush of desire in between my thighs as his gaze lingered on my breasts.

"You're breathtaking," he murmured, his palms gently cupping my breasts. "So soft, so perfect," he added, his voice hoarse. His praise sent a rush of warmth through me, making me feel desired and beautiful.

His skilled fingers gently kneaded my breasts, his touch making my core pulsate with need. As his thumbs brushed over my rosy nipples, they responded eagerly, hardening into taut peaks. The sensation was electric, and I arched my back slightly, pressing my breasts further into his palms, craving the feel of his mouth on my skin.

"Your body is exquisite," he whispered.

His mouth enveloped the sensitive peak, his tongue swirling, licking, and gently sucking, sending jolts of pleasure straight into my belly. The contrast of his warm, wet mouth against my hardened nipple was delicious torture, making me moan.

"Why don't you lie down?" he suggested, and I nodded, settling back against the cold leather, a shiver running through me.

I pulled my knees together, a hint of shyness surfacing despite the heat coursing through me. He placed his hands on my knees, applying slow, deliberate pressure, easing them apart. His gaze stayed locked on mine, unrelenting and steady, as if silently asking me to trust him.

I felt the cool air caress the dampness between my thighs, heightening my awareness of just how exposed—and aroused—I was. Knowing he could see every inch of my exposed flesh fueled my arousal, desire pooling even deeper.

He leaned forward, his warm, wet tongue trailing teasingly along my inner thigh before finding its way to my throbbing button. I gasped as he gently pressed down, his tongue flicking and swirling. With a satisfied hum, he dragged his tongue lower, exploring the length of my slit, dipping into my wetness, his nose nuzzling the small patch of hair above my mound.

David's tongue was aggressive, almost too much to bear. His rough licks against my sensitive clit sent a mix of pleasure and pain coursing through my body. It was intense, bordering on the edge of discomfort, leaving me torn between wanting more and needing a gentler touch.

But his dad... his technique was pure magic. His tongue moved with skill, knowing precisely where and how to lick. It was like he could read my body's responses and cared about my pleasure above all else.

I arched my back, pressing my hips forward, silently begging for more. His tongue delved deeper, tasting my essence, his mouth and nose buried in the most intimate part of me.

He looked up at me, smiling. "Anna, is it possible that I smell latex?"

I felt my cheeks turn pink. "David insists on condoms... even though I'm on the pill.”

His expression didn't change. "I see. So, you were with my son tonight?"

I nodded, feeling a tinge of shame, unsure of what he'd make of it—or what I was feeling myself.

He chuckled softly. "Nothing to be embarrassed about," he said, his tone almost comforting. "Did he… make you cum?"

I shook my head, heat flooding my cheeks, turning them crimson. "No."

He sighed, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and disappointment. "That boy…" he murmured. "Well then, I'll have to make it up to you, won't I?"

TO BE CONTINUED…