Combat Boots & Cumshots Ch. 01

By C. A. Tryst (sobrattycatlady). Copyright 2025. All rights reserved. Do not use without permission.

--

Some of this is not true. I do lie for drama. How much? I'll never tell.

I'm lonely in my marriage. Well, correction--I wasn't getting fucked. Which, for me, was devastatingly lonely. I crave the kind of attention you only get from being good and properly fucked. I want to be called a "good little girl" despite clearly being very bad. I want all my holes stretched and filled with cum just to feel worthy. I hadn't felt worthwhile in a long while--but let me back up so you understand more about my slutty, romantic-loving ass.

One Christmas, my ex-boyfriend Chuck contacted me. We hadn't been in touch since I got married almost 16 years ago. We were in a picture-perfect romantic relationship for two years--the kind you only read about in stories. Soulmates, true love, the whole damn deal. Then Jax happened. And with him, the rave wave of the 2000s hit our tiny town like a neon tsunami. You know the phrase "sex, drugs, and rock and roll"? Well, the early 2000s were sex, drugs, and techno.

That chaos led to our breakup while I was on vacation with my parents. We eventually got back together, but this time in an open relationship that lasted another two years. So, he was mine again... well, not just mine--but that didn't bother me. At the same time, I was also in a poly BDSM relationship with an older couple, including Jax. Those years were full of threesomes, underground sex parties, manipulation, lying, cheating, and ultimately, heartbreak. It couldn't be avoided. But oh, the sex was wild. Worth it. I've never talked about it until now.

I'm the one who secretly craves submission but is a brat at heart, so I have to test your every move. I cuss too much. I'm snarky. I'm wildly unladylike but can still pass as a lady. I prefer tight jeans and combat boots but can rock a dress and heels and look sexy as hell. Chuck brought out a challenge in me like no one else ever had. He also brought out the lady in me, too. Later on he became a pleasure dom to others, but in a way, he was always that--it just didn't have a label back then.

And the thing about pleasure doms? They're so intoxicating. They're good at orgasms--clearly--and you get hooked like it's heroin. Chuck was more than that to me, though. And it scared the shit out of me because I thought I was just another notch on his well-worn bedpost. I challenged him on a daily fucking basis, mostly to curb my own addiction to him. To a fault.

We met at Kung Fu class when I had just turned 19. I was still deep in my 90s grunge punk phase, complete with a massive chip on my shoulder because I had just broken up with the Sifu's son. A Sifu, in case you don't know, is the instructor in Kung Fu. I'd dated his son for a year, and he dumped me to try and go back to his ex--who was, at that point, my friend, and now my best friend, Brittany. We bonded over what an absolute asshole Christian was and started calling ourselves the ABCs: Abused By Christian.

That night, I was already in a shitty mood. Brittany had just told me that Christian asked her out again--again--right before class started. And then Chuck walked in. It was like he brought an electrical storm with him. He stood in the doorway and scanned the room like he owned the goddamn place. I was in the middle of taking off my combat boots, doing my best not to stare at the fresh meat--I mean, new guy.

Brittany was already on the mat, stretching with the other "dojo ding-dongs"--yeah, I know dojo is a Japanese term, not Chinese, but it still fit. Chuck sat down right next to me. Out of ten empty chairs, he chose that one? I went completely rigid. It was like a wolf had just walked out of the woods and plopped itself beside me.

Brittany clocked it immediately and smirked at me from the mat just as Sifu barked for us to begin. I jumped up, bent over to shove my boots under the seat--my ass absolutely in Chuck's face--and at that exact moment, he said "Hi." Basically, to my butt. I didn't even bother to stand up straight. I twisted around and looked at him upside down between my legs, giving him a full once-over. He just grinned, probably catching the scent of my arousal. I could smell it, so I'm sure he could too.

We both walked to the mat and took our places. Since he was new, he was placed off to the side, and I ended up next to Brittany. In this class, we always start by standing in silence until Sifu greets us with the Bao Quan Li--a fist salute. Brittany leaned over, hip-checked me, and nodded toward Chuck. I rolled my eyes.

After our warmups, we broke into smaller groups to work on katas--a series of choreographed offensive and defensive moves that are honestly kind of beautiful when done right. Chuck was put in my group, working on the first belt. He looked at me and said, "Did you just start this class too?"

I shot back, "Um, no, silly. I wasn't standing with you, was I?" Like I said--I was in a mood.

Turns out, I'd never be able to talk to this man without being sarcastic. Ever.

He chuckled. "My name's Chuck. What's yours?"

"I'm Cindy."

We shook hands, and when his grip met mine, it felt like electricity and a hug at the same time. I started showing him the moves alongside the others, and he asked, "How long have you been here?"

"A year. Off and on."

He looked around, then opened his mouth to say some asshole thing I knew was coming, so I cut him off. "Yeah, yeah--I know what you're thinking. I should be farther along than the first belt, and you'd be right. I missed a few weeks of class, and I'm being punished."

He smirked. "Sounds like something you're used to."

"Excuse me?" I snapped.

"Being punished," he said casually. "Now show me the kata again."

I stared up at him, incredulous. "Um, you could say please."

His eyes lit up at my irritation. "I could... but I didn't."

ASSHOLE.

We were practically nose to nose, just glaring at each other when Sifu called for sparring. We all gathered into a large circle in the center of the room. I moved beside Brittany, making sure I was directly opposite Chuck, still giving him my death glare. He was just smiling like a smug fucker.

Free sparring is how we ended every class--one-on-one fights in the middle of the circle, with Sifu jumping in to correct technique or offer better moves. If you "won," you stayed in to face the next person. I never won. Like, ever.

A few students had their turns--punches, sweeps, kicks. Then it was Christian in the ring, and Sifu called my name. Great. Public punishment it is. I was furious, so this was perfect.

I stormed in and immediately went for a chokehold. Christian grabbed my arm and threw me to the floor. I broke the fall and whipped my legs around to sweep him--and I actually succeeded. That made him mad. Just as we were about to full-on wrestle, Sifu stopped us and told Christian to get back in the circle. Apparently, I "won." What?

Everyone was holding their breath. It was clear we were about to actually fight, not just spar. I stood up, adjusted my gi, my jacket pulling open to reveal a bright red bra under my tight white tank top. And then Sifu called Chuck.

Fuuuuuck.

Smirking, he stepped into the ring and said, in a drawn-out Southern drawl, "Whatcha gonna do, darlin'?"

I growled and punched at his face. He casually slapped it away and sidestepped.

"Come on, you can do better than that."

I closed the distance and went straight for a knee to the balls. But before I knew it, he had me turned around, pressed against him, his forearm tight across my neck. My pussy was drenched. I started breathing hard, and he whispered in my ear, "You're supposed to tap out."

I hissed, "No. This isn't good enough."

So he tightened his hold, cutting off my air for real, and took me all the way to the ground--behind me, his legs wrapped around mine so I couldn't move. My vision started to fuzz around the edges, and then Sifu called, "That's enough for tonight. Let's line up."

I felt like I had just had sex in front of the whole class.

Chuck unwrapped himself from me, and I stayed on the mat for a second, gulping in cold air, stars blinking in my eyes. He backflipped--yes, backflipped--to standing because of course he's a goddamn show-off. He turned, offered me a hand, and said, "Red's my favorite color," nodding not-so-subtly to the bra he'd seen earlier.

My cheeks flushed. And I'm not the type to get embarrassed.

After class, I headed straight for the bathroom. In the stall, I pulled off my uniform pants, and the cool air hit my soaked panties. Fuck. My pussy was throbbing so bad, I knew I could cum in under a minute. So I sat down on the toilet, leaned back--the metal of the commercial flusher digging into my spine like a gun to my back, somehow making it hotter. One hand slid into my panties, rubbing my slick clit up and down with one finger as fast as possible. The other hand slipped into my bra to pinch and roll my nipple, hard. I came in less than thirty seconds, quietly, in case someone else came in.

I finished changing into tight black jeans, tied a flannel around my waist, and left on the white tank top and red bra. I licked the taste of myself off my finger, washed my hands, and walked out, scanning for Chuck--but he was gone. Thank god. He'd probably know exactly what I'd done and I wouldn't have a clue what to say.

Most of the adults were still inside talking to Sifu about boring shit--competitions, bedtimes, whatever parents talk about. So I went outside, where I found Brittany chatting with a couple other dojo ding-dongs. Christian came outside and said, "It's my two favorite bitches."

I snapped, "Oh fuck you and the horse dick you rode in on."

Brittany and I both got into it with him, cussing back and forth, until I started throwing punches. None of them landed, of course. So I kicked him in the shin with my combat boot. The other guys dragged him off, trying to calm things down. I was crying angry tears, turning to Brittany when Christian came back and said, "Hey--we weren't done."

I spun around, and he landed a roundhouse kick straight to the side of my face.

I went out like a light.

When I came to, I hadn't opened my eyes yet. I had no clue what had happened, but my head was pounding. Someone was touching the side of my face--gently--massaging my temple. The smell of him was intoxicating: Cool Water cologne and something else... something primal. Home. Lust. "You need to open your eyes for me. You've got a concussion," a soft, low voice said. Concerned. Caring.

I opened my eyes and met Chuck's blue ones, staring into my green. "There she is," he said with a small smile. "Welcome back, darlin'."

I tore my gaze away, glancing around the room. Most of the students were gone. Brittany was still there, biting her nails. I looked at her. "What happened?"

"That motherfucker kicked you in the fucking face. I guess you win the ABC Award of the Year," she said.

I started to get up, but Chuck placed his hand on my chest and gently pushed me back down. "Stay. I'll get him."

He stood, turned, and walked away--calm and deadly. I watched Sifu across the room with Christian. Chuck walked straight up, said a few quiet words, then grabbed Christian by the shirt collar like a misbehaving child and marched him back over to me and Brittany. My eyes went wide. He really just did that. In front of Sifu. To Sifu's son.

Christian had a fine bruise forming under one eye.

"Did I do that?" I asked.

Chuck said, "Yes, you did."

Brittany grinned. "No, he did." She looked at Chuck meaningfully.

Still wide-eyed, I just stared at them both.

"Now apologize to the lady," Chuck said, tightening his grip on Christian's collar.

Christian breathed in, started to argue, but Chuck pulled harder--the fabric beginning to rip.

"Alright, alright, dammit. I'm sorry. Are you satisfied?" Christian huffed.

"Not in the least. Do better," Chuck snapped, letting go of his shirt and gesturing for Brittany to follow him as he turned to talk to Sifu.

I sat there dazed. Pissed. And sad. A tear rolled down my cheek as I realized... I really did win the abuse award tonight.

Christian sat beside me. "Hey."

I didn't look at him. I stared at the ground, trying not to cry.

"Hey, look. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to kick you. I thought you'd block it. I'm sorry. And... I'm sorry about asking Brittany out too. I'm being kicked out of class for a while. Probably won't come back anyway--I'm starting a new job, okay? You won't have to deal with me anymore."

I didn't lift my head. Ever the romantic, and refusing to say goodbye, I said, "I only ever wanted to deal with you."

He didn't respond. He got up and walked out. Forever.

I kept staring at the ground until a pair of black cowboy boots stepped into view.

"Darlin'? Can I take you home, make sure you're safe tonight?"

I looked up, about to say I rode with Brittany, but she was behind him nodding like a proud big sister. She's always been my compass. I looked to her any time a boy asked me out--even if this didn't feel like that. But maybe it did.

I didn't want to talk. I just nodded. Chuck helped me up by the elbow like a gentleman from another time.

"Call me when you get home," Brittany said as she opened the door.

Chuck walked me--no rush--to his truck and opened the door. Before I could step in, he scooped me up and lifted me onto the seat. It wasn't even that high. Show-off.

I turned to face the front and he leaned in, close--too close. The tingling in my skin was electric. He looked into my eyes, reached around me, and buckled my seatbelt.

"I had it," I muttered.

He just smiled. "Let me take care of you tonight."

How the hell do you say no to that?

He shut the door, walked around to the driver's side, and slid in. I followed every movement--his light jeans, his tucked-in black tee, the silver belt buckle, the black boots. His blonde hair--long on top, short on the sides--was straight out of every 90s teen magazine I used to have in my bedroom.

Fuck. I hated to admit it, but the hair, the manners, the cowboy charm--it was all really, really hot.

He started the truck, and the country station blasted on cue. He immediately began singing along:

"Hey pretty lady, won't you give me a sign?

I'd give anything to make you mine o' mine..."

I couldn't help it. I smiled. He was so damn cute.

Then he glanced at me, serious. "Darlin', I need you to do me a favor tonight, okay?"

"What is it? I'm not agreeing to shit until I know what it is."

"You've got a concussion. You can't fall asleep for a few hours. Brittany said you can stay on the phone with her. Whatever you gotta do, just stay up. I'll call and check on you later. If you're still on the phone, it won't wake anyone up."

I sighed like a brat. "Fine."

We chatted the whole ride to my parents' house about random shit--growing up, favorite foods, family. We developed this cute, chaotic way of bickering where we both started talking fast at the same time, but somehow still understood each other. Even though my head was pounding from the concussion, I thought it was adorable.

He told me about all the martial arts styles he'd studied and what belts he had.

I raised an eyebrow. "Dude. Why do you even need this class then? You basically know everything."

"I wanted to try something new," he said with a little smile, glancing at me. "And I'm glad I did."

He pulled into my driveway. We sat in the truck a minute saying goodbyes. He made me promise--again--to stay on the phone with Brittany and said he'd call later to check in. I headed straight down to my basement room and called Brittany.

She answered immediately. "So? How'd it go? Did you fuck him yet?"

"Girl, damn. I know I'm slutty, but I'm not that slutty. Jesus."

She laughed. "He is really cute though."

I sighed. "Yeah. I might actually have to start coming to class more often."

We talked for a few more minutes, then I told her I was going to shower and I'd call her right back.

Upstairs, I avoided the parents, headed to the bathroom, and stepped into the shower, my head spinning--but not from the injury. I kept thinking about Chuck. What was he like in bed? Was his cock big? Was he a good kisser? Did he eat pussy? God, I hoped so.

I grabbed the handheld shower wand, adjusted the water a little warmer--imagining it was his mouth--and brought it to my clit. I gasped when the stream hit just right. Leaning back against the wall, I lifted one leg up onto the tub lip and ran the water up and down like a tongue. My orgasm built fast. I exploded with the water pulsing against my clit and slipped two fingers inside to extend the high. Panting, I stood there, letting the shower wash over me.

After drying off, I grabbed a snack in the kitchen, still wrapped in just a towel, my wet hair clinging to my skin, and made my way back down to my room.

"What the fuck!" I yelled.

Chuck was sitting on my bed.

"You broke your promise. And so soon," he said, voice low and deadly calm. "Do you have any discipline at all, darlin'?"

He sounded pissed. It was really fucking hot.

I became very aware that I was standing there in nothing but a towel. We hadn't even kissed yet, and here he was, in my bedroom, seeing me practically naked. Oh my god--Brittany was right. I am a total fucking slut.

He raised one eyebrow, tilted his head. "What are you thinking right now?"

I flushed. Oh no. He knew. He could tell I'd just been thinking about fucking him.

His eyes widened, waiting for an answer.

I swallowed. "Um. Well. I was thinking about what you were like in bed..."

I looked down at the floor, crossing my arms across my stomach, humiliated.

"Well, darlin', I am on your bed, so..." He laughed at his own dad joke.

I laughed, but not at the joke. "You laugh like Eddie Murphy, you big nerd. I better call Brittany back."

"No need," he said. "I already talked to her."

"What?! Did you tell her you were coming here? She's going to think I'm a super huge slut now. Great."

He raised his eyebrows again and smirked, amused. "Are you?"

That motherfucker. He probably does fuck mothers.

I glared, tapping my foot, waiting for him to apologize.

"What?" he said, hands out like he was innocent. But then something shifted in his expression--primal and nurturing all at once. "Come here. Let's get you in bed."

"Oh my god. We just--" I started, but he cut me off.

"I can smell your pussy from here, and I want to taste it. Don't make me ask again. Come. Here."

Oh. No. He. Didn't.

"What are you gonna do, make me, Mr. Murphy Laugh?"

He wasn't amused.

Oh shit.

He stood up and had me pinned against the door by my throat in one fluid motion. My towel dropped to the floor. He didn't squeeze hard, just held me there, locking eyes.

"You have the most beautiful green eyes I've ever seen," he whispered, his breath hot and minty, laced with Cool Water and something wild. Just his scent made my mouth and pussy salivate.

He paused, glanced down, then back up with a wicked grin. "You seem to have dropped your towel."

I couldn't even speak. He was staring at me like I was his favorite fucking meal. I could feel my wetness dripping down my legs. He growled, low and husky.

"I smell you."

Fuck. That's hot.

"You know you have a concussion, and we shouldn't raise your blood pressure too high," he whispered in my ear, voice like sex and smoke. "You need to calm down."

I shuddered, quivering as his words brushed warm breath across my neck. He sucked on my earlobe, and I let out a long sigh.

"Shhh, darlin', or this will all be over before we get started."

I took a jagged inhale, tried to still myself.

"That's a good girl," he whispered.

Then his hand trailed lazily from my hip to my stomach, up between my breasts, stopping at one nipple. He circled it with his fingertips until it stood at attention--both of them did. I was trembling, barely able to stand. If he weren't holding my throat, I'd have melted to the floor.

He pinched and tugged the other nipple.

"You're so beautiful, darlin'. My dick's about to cut its way out of these jeans."

"You should let it out then," I said, breathless.

"Not tonight."

"What?! No!" I whined. "Please, I want you."

He chuckled. "Well, that didn't take long. Already begging."

Dammit. Where the hell did my dignity go?

Before I could argue, he kissed me--slow, deep, aching.

Our kiss deepened, breath quickening. I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth and nipped it lightly. He growled, kissed me harder, and sucked on my tongue. No one had ever done that before, and I squirmed with pleasure. His hand slid down and cupped the apex of my legs--like he was about to lift me by my pussy.

His other hand dropped from my throat, and he leaned back, eyes wide with surprise. "Damn, gorgeous. You're soaked."

I moaned and nodded, unable to speak.

He picked me up effortlessly, cradling me like a baby. He turned his face toward my pussy and inhaled deeply as he carried me across the room, laying me gently on the bed. His hands roamed up and down my curves. The warmth and energy of his touch made my back arch.

"Mmm, you're sensitive, aren't you, darlin'?"

"Mhm," I managed, watching him watch me.

"Let's make this fun, then. I gotta keep you awake, after all." He grabbed a shirt from the floor, pulled both of my arms above my head, and tied them together. Yep. Wide awake now.

Then he grabbed another shirt and placed it over my eyes. "Now stay still and pay attention to my touch."

The absence of sight made every other sense explode. I could feel the cool air prickling my skin. I felt the bed shift as he got on his knees between my legs. He lifted one of them, placed it on his shoulder, and slowly ran his hands down my feet to my thigh. He massaged up toward the crease where my leg met my hip, adding pressure, then circled back again.

I was panting, back arching, desperate for him to touch me where I needed it most.

He spread that leg wide and repeated the same delicious torture on the other side. His hands moved slow and methodical. I could barely breathe. My orgasm was already building--just from the anticipation.

Then he lowered my leg and pushed both knees wide apart, fully exposing my pussy.

"Beautiful," he muttered.

He leaned over me, hands sliding up to my breasts. He pinched both nipples hard enough to make my spine lift off the bed, my breath catching in my throat. My pussy throbbed. I was so close.

His hands drifted back down to my hips, then under to grab my ass and lift my pelvis to his mouth like it was a sacred offering. I planted my feet, keeping my hips up while he wrapped his forearms under my thighs to hold me still.

Strong. So fucking strong.

He exhaled softly--his hot breath dancing over my wetness--and I moaned, "Oh fuck."

"Mmm, dirty mouth, darlin'." The vibration of the words thrummed through my clit.

I squirmed. He paused, teasing.

"Ah, ah, ah... stay still."

"Oh god, please," I begged.

And just like Wesley in The Princess Bride, he replied, "As you wish."

His hot tongue ran from the base of my slit all the way up to my clit, and I nearly choked on my own breath. He swirled around my swollen bean, careful not to touch it directly, then plunged his tongue deep inside me, slow and steady, tongue-fucking me.

I moaned too loud. He stopped and gently shushed me.

Then he devoured me.

Mouth wide, lips wrapping around my pussy like he was making out with it. His tongue lapped my lips, his head moving like he was feasting--because he was. He sucked, slurped, and buried his face in me like he wanted to extract my soul through my cunt.

My wetness mixed with his spit, dripping down my ass and soaking the sheets. The glorious, filthy mess he was making of my clean skin and freshly laundered bed.

He pulled back for a second. "Do you want to cum for me?"

I couldn't breathe. I just nodded rapidly.

"I want to hear you beg."

I thrust my hips forward. "Please, Chuck. I want to cum for you so bad. You already made me cum in class. Please, please..."

He chuckled. "Did I now?"

Then he hummed in approval and finally--finally--wrapped his lips around my clit and sucked.

I opened my mouth in a silent scream as he lowered my ass back to the bed and unwrapped his arms. His fingers--holy shit--slid inside me. Just one at first, deep and firm.

His tongue flicked my clit, and I exploded. My whole body arched into him. I wanted so badly to grab his head, hold him there, smother him with the fucking mess he made of me, but I was still tied up.

Then came two fingers. I felt the pressure rise again--already?!--and I lost all control. My body spasmed. I gushed. The sheets were soaked.

"Oh my god. Did I just pee? Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit..."

"Mmmm," he moaned into my cunt as I kept twitching.

He slowly slid his fingers out, and I arched up at the sudden emptiness. I could feel the puddle cooling under my ass.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, horrified. "Oh my god. I can't believe I just did that."

"What, darlin'?"

I couldn't even say it. I bit my lip, curling in on myself.

He noticed the shift. I felt him move up the bed, his body aligning with mine. He gently pulled the shirt from my eyes, wiped his mouth, and untied my wrists. I couldn't look at him. I kept my eyes shut.

He wrapped one leg around mine, pulled me straight, and started rubbing my side.

"Darlin'? You okay? Look at me. Please."

Please. He said Please.

I looked.

His expression was soft. Concerned. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Oh god, no," I blurted. "That was... amazing. But I--I think I peed the bed."

I buried my face in my hands, humiliated. "You probably don't want to see me again after that."

And then he Eddie Murphy laughed--loud, joyful, deep.

"No, darlin'," he said, chuckling as he wrapped me in his arms. "No, no, no. You were perfect. I made you squirt."

"What the fuck?!"

He grinned, rubbing and squeezing my tits like they were his emotional support stress balls. I could still smell my arousal on his face, mixing with his cologne. It was primal.

"I made you squirt," he said again. "It's when you cum so hard, you... kind of ejaculate."

"That doesn't make it sound better. I came like a dude?! That's not helping!"

He pinned me down when I tried to crawl away, still laughing.

"Trust me," he said, grinning. "It's what I want. It's more than what I want. You're amazing."

That calmed me. A little.

I lay there, curled into him, listening to his heartbeat, my hand on his chest. I looked up into his face and kissed him--slow, grateful, still tasting myself on his tongue. It lit something primal inside me, and we started making out all over again, wild and hungry.

Until he stopped.

"I should let you rest," he said, voice husky. "I'll watch over you if you want to close your eyes."

I curled into him. His hand stroked my back, his fingers threading through my damp hair.

And I fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

Listening. Breathing in my new home.

I woke up a few hours later, still wrapped in Chuck's arms. His fingers were tracing lazy circles on my back, like he'd been doing it the whole time I was asleep.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he whispered. "Still with me?"

I nodded against his chest.

"Good. You scared the hell out of me earlier when Christian kicked you."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

He lifted my chin. "Don't be. You were a badass. Still are. It's him I want to kill."

But then I remembered. "Where were you? I didn't see you after class."

He smirked. "Were you looking for me?"

My cheeks flush again, and I nuzzle into his side.

"I was changing in my truck," he said.

"Is that all?"

I smiled and stretched, my body aching in the best ways--like I'd been wrecked and rebuilt from scratch. "I should probably call Brittany back tonight so she knows you didn't murder me."

He laughed. "I already talked to her. Said to tell you she'll expect all the dirty details tomorrow."

"Oh my god," I groaned, throwing the blanket over my face. "She's the worst."

"She's the best," Chuck corrected. "She looks out for you. I like that."

I peeked at him from under the blanket. "You like me?"

"I think that's obvious," he said, brushing a strand of hair off my face.

My stomach flipped, and I loved it. That soft, squishy feeling? I live for it and I was just starting to wake up sexually.

Chuck kissed me softly, like he could read the love in my eyes.

"No pressure, darlin'. But I'll be around if you want me."

I nodded, unsure what to say.

We got dressed in silence. I only threw on a bra and panties for bed. He helped change the sheets like a gentleman (who does that after making you squirt all over them?!), and we both laughed when we had to stop and just look at the wet spot.

"Legendary," he said, nodding solemnly.

"Shut up."

He walked me to the door, kissed me once more, and left without dragging it out. No awkward goodbyes. No promises he couldn't keep.

Just: "Sleep well, and drink some water, darlin."

And just like that, he was gone.

I stood at the basement door in my underwear, heart racing, sheets in the wash, and the faint taste of my own orgasm still lingering on my lips.

I just got my first real fuck.

And I definitely wasn't ready for what came next.