My arousal was already at its limit; I could feel my cock pulsing. Vanessa, lying on the bed, looked at me with lustful eyes. She had just had an orgasm and wanted to keep going. Without wasting any more time, I aligned the head of my cock with the entrance of her pussy. I didn't rush like an animal. Slowly, I moved my hips forward, entering her little by little. The pleasurable sensation created by the hot, wet tightness of her walls spread across my glans.
As Vanessa was penetrated, she let out a deep sigh. With my cock inside her, I leaned my body forward, resting my elbows on the bed. In the missionary position, with our bodies almost completely pressed together, I began to move my hips. I started slowly, savoring every sensation generated by her pussy. Vanessa was very wet, and if I moved too hastily, I would probably finish faster than I wanted.
So that first moment was about controlling my anxiety and getting used to the sensation. With our bodies pressed together, I took the opportunity to kiss Vanessa. My lips connected with hers while my hips continued to move. Vanessa wrapped her arms around my back, and as time passed, I started moving better. My thrusts became rougher, the sound of flesh slapping together mixed with sighs and moans of pleasure filled the room.
"Aaah, keep going, Luke."
Vanessa whispered in my ear as she moaned. Her pussy tightened even more, and the friction caused an even more delicious sensation around my glans. Since I had managed to control my initial excitement, at that moment I had control over my ejaculation. Because of that, I was able to move faster. My thrusts inside Vanessa soon made her reach another orgasm.
Her nails slid down my back, leaving red marks. She contracted beneath me, and her moans became harder to hold back.
"Fuck… I'm cumming."
Her second orgasm of the night. I got off Vanessa and gestured for us to change positions—I wanted to do doggy style. Vanessa lifted her hips and lowered her upper body; it was a beautiful sight. Her ass raised, her back elegant and exposed. I couldn't control myself. I lined my cock up with the entrance of her pussy again, but unlike before, I didn't start slowly. My cock slid in quickly, diving into that world of pleasure. I began moving my hips, slamming against Vanessa's ass.
With every movement, I felt her insides tightening around me. With every thrust, Vanessa's pale ass shook in a sensual way. It felt so good that even I let out moans of pleasure, most of them saying Vanessa's name.
"Ah… Vanessa… so fucking good."
My movements became more aggressive, with strong, fast thrusts deep inside her. I was close to cumming, and apparently she was too. We both seemed like animals, focused solely on our own pleasure.
"Ah… aaah… I'm going to cum again, Luke."
"Let's do it together."
A shiver ran through my body; I felt my cock fully contract inside her. With a final sigh, I let everything out. Vanessa also reached another orgasm. When I pulled my cock out of her, she collapsed face-down onto the bed, breathing heavily. I climbed over her, kissing her sweaty neck, and whispered:
"That was good."
"It was."
Then I lay down beside her. Vanessa turned her face toward me and smiled. We couldn't sleep in that state, so after recovering a little, we got up to take a shower. I noticed that the door to my bedroom was half open, which I found strange. As far as I remembered, I had closed it. Well, I decided to ignore it. Maybe I had only pushed it shut and it opened on its own. I went to the bathroom with Vanessa.
…
(POV Bianca)
Today I had a date scheduled. This time, the man seemed promising: the son of the owner of a supermarket chain, someone who clearly didn't live counting coins. The simple fact that he came to pick me up instead of suggesting I take a taxi had already earned him a few positive points. I genuinely tried to have expectations. He was attractive, with a body that conveyed strength even under a neatly pressed shirt, and a well-groomed beard that suggested vanity and some level of self-care. Under normal circumstances, I would have been interested.
But nothing about that night was normal.
Luke ruined everything. Or maybe not him directly—maybe the idea of him. The persistent thought that he was at home, at that exact moment, with that woman named Vanessa wouldn't leave my mind. It was like a constant noise, impossible to ignore. From the moment I left the apartment, something inside me was already off. A strange bad mood, with no clear origin, settled in, and no matter how hard I tried to focus on the present, my mind always circled back to the same place.
I was sitting in a sophisticated restaurant, surrounded by warm lighting, expensive cutlery, and the pleasant smell of well-prepared food. Across from me, a handsome man talked, smiled, tried to make a connection. Even so, all I could see was Luke's face overlapping his, accompanied by the irritating smile he was probably wearing as he confirmed, in practice, what I had been trying to deny since earlier. I answered questions on autopilot, forced expressions, nodded at the right moments. I was only there physically.
The urge to go home grew quietly, filling every space inside me. Luckily—or maybe out of discomfort—the man seemed to notice that something was wrong. The date ended earlier than planned. He asked if I was okay; I made up some vague excuse, enough to close the subject. Shortly after, he dropped me off at the front of the building. I got out of the car, thanked him out of politeness, and went inside.
I greeted the doorman as usual, but my voice sounded distant even to myself.
Inside the elevator, something shifted. My heart started beating faster, as if my body knew something my mind still refused to accept. An idea began to take shape—uncomfortable, unsettling—and I did everything I could to push it away. I didn't want it to be that. It couldn't be that.
When I opened the apartment door, silence greeted me along with obvious signs of recent presence: a pizza box on the table, a few beer cans scattered around the living room. The place had that feeling of something that had just happened. I didn't see Luke. I didn't see Vanessa. That didn't bring relief—it brought apprehension.
I went up the stairs slowly. My bedroom was upstairs, like all the others. I still tried to rationalize, telling myself I was imagining things, that Luke might have simply gone out. That thought was crushed the moment I reached the top of the stairs.
Moans.
Coming from his bedroom.
My body reacted before my mind did. I froze, paralyzed, as if any movement would make it even more real. What I had been trying to deny was happening exactly as I feared. Luke—Luke—had someone. Driven by a curiosity mixed with anger, disbelief, and something even uglier, I took a few steps forward. The sounds grew clearer, more intimate, impossible to ignore.
Carefully, I approached the door and looked through the crack. The scene unfolded in a raw, intense way—far too intimate to be seen by an outsider. They were completely given to each other, without restraint, without hesitation. It hit me like a punch.
An avalanche of emotions washed over me all at once. Envy. Frustration. A deep sense of defeat. But above all, the bitter feeling of having lost something that, in some distorted way, I believed belonged to me. I had always said—and believed—that I was indifferent to Luke. That I didn't like him, but didn't dislike him either. We lived together out of convenience. That was all.
But it wasn't that simple.
Him denying me, setting boundaries when I expected control, wounded something inside me. It wasn't pure desire—it was a blow to my ego. Seeing another woman now occupying that space, receiving what I couldn't have, awakened a silent, heavy anger that was hard to swallow.
I stepped away from the door before it was too late. Each step back seemed to carry a new weight. Inside me, a thought began to form—slow and dangerous. The need to regain control. To reverse that dynamic. To make Luke depend on me, somehow.
And that idea, unlike the others, didn't bother me.
It comforted me.