A stranger’s bed

FirstFight

As Lordy sat lost in her thoughts, memories of their first real fight with Augustine flooded her mind. She had betrayed him, and though he had discovered the truth—hacking her phone to see her messages with Jeffery—he had never confronted her directly. Instead, he had given her the chance to confess, always gently reminding her each night during their long phone calls.

“Do you want to say anything?” he would ask.

“Oh no, I’m fine. Nothing to say,” she would reply, forcing a smile into her voice.

But Augustine, patient yet persistent, would press on. “Feel free, love. I want to know. No matter what, I love you.”

Lordy never understood the weight behind his words. She was lost, caught between a sense of guilt and the undeniable desire that had rooted itself in her body for him.

It was a Wednesday afternoon when the tension finally built to its breaking point. She lay naked beside Jeffery, the shallow rhythm of his touch filling her with disgust. Every stroke reminded her why she hated their encounters; he could never ignite her the way Augustine did. Her body ached for the warmth and fire of Augustine’s hands, the rough tenderness, the intensity that made her tremble and moan in ways Jeffery would never understand.

As she drifted in these thoughts, Jeffery pressed further. He spread her legs and began to lick her in a slow, deliberate way, tracing her folds with a tongue that made her feel exposed and degraded. His technique was precise, almost surgical, twisting and rolling until penetration seemed inevitable. But Lordy’s mind was elsewhere. She closed her eyes, imagining Augustine hovering above her, whispering in that deep, teasing voice that made her shiver and her n*****s harden.

The contrast between the two men could not have been starker. Jeffery loved the kind of nasty, almost violent s*x that left her feeling soiled; Augustine, by contrast, made her feel alive, worshiped, and insatiably desired. She endured Jeffery’s ministrations, counting down the minutes until it was over, until she could finally retrieve her phone and see Augustine’s messages. Her heart clenched with longing each time she saw his name flash on the screen, but she could not answer—not yet.

Finally, Jeffery finished, rolling away in satisfaction, leaving her trembling and frustrated. She reached for her phone and saw a string of missed calls from Augustine. Panic surged through her chest, and she dialed him back, careful to sound composed.

“Where have you been?” His voice was calm but sharp, a controlled anger that made her knees weak.

“I… I was busy with housework,” she stammered. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t with my phone. I’m sorry.”

Silence hung in the line. For what felt like an eternity, he said nothing, his presence palpable through the phone. Then, slowly, he whispered, “I have a surprise for you. Can you come to my office right away?”

She hesitated. “Er… I can’t. It’s too far. Can you bring it here?”

A pause, then his voice, low and measured: “Great idea. I’ll be there soon.”

Less than an hour later, he arrived at her apartment, helmet still on his head. “That was fast,” she said, trying to sound casual.

“Sit down,” he commanded, cold and serious. From his bag, he retrieved a laptop and opened it, displaying every conversation she had hidden from him. Lordy froze. Her body felt heavy, her breath caught in her throat.

“Babe, I can explain,” she stammered, tears welling in her eyes.

“You could have explained a long time ago,” he shot back. “I asked you. You pretended nothing was going on. Why hurt me? I broke up with my girlfriend to be with you. I don’t care about her, but you played with two men?” His voice rose, frustration spilling over.

Lordy rose, trembling. “Please, let me explain,” she pleaded, closing the distance between them. “I didn’t know how to break up with him. He’s innocent. I didn’t want to hurt him.”

Augustine shoved her back. “Stay away from me, you…!” But Lordy pressed forward, reaching his lips, kissing him fiercely. “I choose you. I’ll end it now. I can’t lose you.”

Her confession ignited something in him. His eyes darkened with desire, and before she could process it, he had her pressed against the chair, his hand slipping between her thighs. Five fingers sank into her, and she gasped.

“You nasty girl. Do you like it?” he growled.

“Yes… yes, Daddy… I love it,” she moaned, her body arching into his touch.

They lost themselves in a storm of lust. Fingers, lips, tongues, and bodies entwined with raw intensity. For over twenty minutes, they moved together, each thrust, each kiss, each moan a symphony of desire. The room was filled with the sound of their pleasure and the scent of their passion.

Eventually, they collapsed against each other, sweat-slicked and exhausted. Breathless, hearts racing, Lordy reached for her phone to end things with Jeffery. Her fingers trembled as she dialed the number, her voice steady yet tinged with satisfaction as she finally freed herself from the last barrier between her and Augustine.

That night, for the first time in weeks, she slept like a baby, her body and soul finally at peace in Augustine’s embrace. She realized that desire, love, and honesty could coexist in ways she had never imagined—and that Augustine was the one she could never let go.