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eiflawriting · 2 years

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︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵۵ 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 @maydayaisha 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘣. 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯!𝘴𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘹 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳! 𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘭𝘶𝘴 𝘖𝘕𝘓𝘠. 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘋𝘕𝘐. 𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘰3.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ summary: 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸. 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘warnings! 𝘴𝘩𝘦/𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘴. 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 (𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭, 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭, 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘦𝘵𝘤.) 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘥, 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭 . 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘤𝘰𝘸𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺. 𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺. 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘦. 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘺𝘶𝘬𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘨𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺. 𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 3.8𝘬

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘author's notes 𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘺'𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪'𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬, 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘫𝘫𝘬 𝘴𝘬𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘪'𝘮 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘫𝘬 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥(𝘰𝘧𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦…𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘺). 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺, 𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘴𝘬𝘴𝘬. 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘺𝘦, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥. 𝘪 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴.

𝘱.𝘴: 𝘪'𝘮 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵? 𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨. ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

Tonight felt lonelier than others. Your body wouldn't allow you to sleep, finding yourself on the balcony of your high-rise condo smoking a joint with a glass of whiskey in your hand. The cool air tickled your flesh as the moonlight kept you company, beaming at the ochre of your complexion to keep its presence known. Your chestnut eyes, slightly reddened from the joint, stared blankly at the sky. All you could think about was him. The man you were in love with, who you knew as, SP. A mysterious love it was, but you didn't care. There was something about him that your heart couldn't resist.

You were on your way home from work the night you met. Two unknown men were following you, causing you to take unnecessary detours. As you hit the corner, you ran into SP. He saw how frightened you looked, allowing his eyes to wander behind you. He took notice of the situation in which he pretended to be your friend. The meeting wasn't ideal. However, it established the relationship you currently had. Since that night, you've remained somewhat in contact. Although you didn't see him as often as you wished, the moments spent felt as if you had known him for an eternity. He was kind beyond words. His naturally relaxed demeanor kept you at ease every time you were together. Though, you couldn't help but get worried.

SP was an assassin. This was one of the first things he told you as your relationship began to grow intimate. It took you back some, but honestly, it was nothing that would cause you to cut ties with him. If anything, you were concerned for his well-being. SP assured you that he was good at what he does, so you kept your worries to yourself because you couldn't do anything but trust him. If only you could see him more. However, you knew his line of work always kept him on the go. What he did for a living was fucked up, but the person he is and how he treated you was all that mattered. And let's just say he cared for you well—especially in the bedroom.

On a few occasions, SP would come over to your condo (which he brought, by the way), and would fuck you passionately in those satin sheets as if it was his last. Every vein on his dick would pleasurably graze your walls, constantly kissing your cushion to perfection. Your voices would intertwine in beautiful harmony, creating a playlist of your moans and sounds of pleasure. It was foolish of him to tell you to keep your options open. Why would you? It was silly, but you'd rather keep your occasional intimate moments than waste time with someone else. No other man would compare even if you tried.

You missed him so much that it hurts. It's been three months since you last saw SP. The last you heard from him was through a pay phone stationed in Kyoto. Your face grew warm just from the timbre of his voice. Smooth and raspy, you thought. The call lasted five minutes, but every minute used was him telling you how he couldn't wait to have you in his embrace once more. As you, too, felt the same. You needed him with you badly. Your favorites were those nights when you would smoke a J and down a whiskey bottle together. SP wasn't much of a talker, but you knew, based on the soft smile on his face, you would always have his undivided attention. Just thinking about him caused a lone tear to escape your eye as you attempted to take a puff at the near burnt-out joint.

You grew frustrated from the lighter not sparking a flame, delaying you from finishing the rolled cannabis. But your frustration soon turned into relief, more so shocked, from the presence behind you.

There he was, resting his hand on your hip as the other used his lighter to light the joint held eagerly between your lips. You turn around to meet with those chocolate-colored eyes, having a doe-eyed expression yourself. It's like you were staring at a ghost. Three months you haven't seen this man, and here he was, standing on your balcony with you. You were happy yet angry. How could he leave for so long? All he gave you was a five-minute phone call. You parted your lips to argue, but the tears rapidly decorating your cheeks caused you to look away, forming a thick lump in your throat.

Although you weren't looking at SP, you could feel his expression soften as he continued to survey your features. Your beauty was everything to him. Something he's never seen before. SP felt guilty. Regardless of him telling you to keep your options open, he should've known that wouldn't have happened. You haven't told him, but he knew you felt strongly for him. It was more than just sex. Those conversations while being under the influence felt like once-in-a-lifetime moments. At times, he couldn't believe you allowed a stranger into your home, knowing only his age and profession. You didn't even know his real name, but there was something about his company that made you feel safe.

His hands rested on your cheeks, turning your face to meet his gaze again. His thumb brushed under your eyes to wipe away your tears. Even in distress, you took a puff of your joint, causing SP to softly chuckle. No matter how sad you were, you thought it was nothing cannabis couldn't fix. Your face was to his, but your eyes averted elsewhere. He took the opportunity to place a delicate kiss on your lips, and you instantly melted from the action. You could be mad at him all you want. However, you knew you were just hurt from being without him for this long. Foolish of you to fall in love with a man you didn't know, but your heart made no mistake saying otherwise.

The kiss was meaningful, having varieties of emotions. Longing. Pain. Nostalgia—Love. You set aside your blunt on the ashtray, holding onto his wrists as your tongues danced with one another. SP groaned from the taste of the mixed toxicants and how sweet you were. How plush and cozy those two-toned lips of yours felt against his. The high he felt off you was the best he ever felt. After parting lips, you finally looked at him to take in the features you loved so much. Your fingers would get lost in his dark, messy hair as you straddled his lap. Those warm eyes would burn through your soul. That distinctive scar under his left eye made you question how it got there, ensuring to always kiss it when you made love. It was him. He was here.

"You're here," you breathed.

"I am. I've missed you so much."

Your eyes began to well. "What took you so long? I was okay with weeks, but three months?"

"I know—I'm so sorry. It's just this assassin shit isn't easy."

"I understand," you said doubtfully, lowering your head.

"Hey, look at me. Look at me, [Y/N]." Doing as he says, you meet his gaze, eyes slowly blinking from the substances in your system. "I worked nonstop. No sleep until I came back here to you. I'm sorry. I should've gotten in contact with you to let you know it was going to be a while. I'm here now, okay?"

You gave him a soft smile. "Okay."

"May I?" he asked, referring to taking a puff from your near-done joint. You nodded, causing him to stick the substance between his lips to light. As he did so, his eyes began exploring your appearance. You wore a red silk robe and underneath was a sexy black two-piece lingerie set. SP only got a glimpse of your full thighs and the plushness of your round breasts, immediately getting hard. "You're fucking someone else?"

You gave him a side-eye while pouring a glass of whiskey. "Yeah, and you're interrupting. He should be over any minute."

"Haha, bullshit."

"Hm, that's what you think?"

He inhaled the substance, pulling you by your waist to brush his mouth over yours, "That's what I know," then exhaled in your mouth as he crashed his lips onto yours. This kiss was more heated than the initial one. SP was so desperate for you as you were for him. Without parting from you, he set aside the bite-size joint on the ashtray, tapping at the back of your thighs, signaling you to jump. You cuffed his face to deepen the kiss, flicking your tongue across his lips before sucking the bottom into your mouth. As you continued, he returned inside to sit on the corner of your bed.

As you straddled his lap, you removed your silk robe to reveal that sexy lingerie set. He hissed, seeing how the moonlight instantly gravitated to the umber in your complexion, causing your skin to beam beautifully. SP yearned for this exact moment all three months he has been away from you. Those sexy photos you printed for him helped him fist his cock every night, mewling your name in despair once he reached his climax. He was a hot cumming mess, but it was nothing compared to being deep into your velvet walls. It was good you were on birth control because he always ensured to fill up you perfectly every time he fucked you.

You eagerly took off his shirt, grinding against his hardened erection, pleasurably sighing at the friction. The kisses you left along his neck were sinfully filled with need. You flattened your tongue, taking long and slow strokes, tasting the mixture of his amber-scented cologne and sweat. The actions may not have been much, but they were enough to have him softly moaning. He gripped your waist, aiding you to grind harder on his clothed dick. However, doing that caused an idea to spark in his mind.

"Take these off," he whispered, tugging at the band of your panties. You groaned in frustration from being apart from him, but you did as you were told. While you did so, SP stripped those black fitted jeans to allow his needy friend to breathe, only in his briefs. He had almost forgotten the rolled blunt in his pocket, so he lit it up between his lips. Pulling you back into his embrace, SP placed you on his thigh, cursing from feeling your heated arousal on his bare skin. His hands explored your thick curves, stopping at your ass to firmly grip. You didn't need to be told what to do—you already knew.

You took a rhythmic pace as you massaged your pussy on his thigh. Every motion you made heightened the volume of your moans. "If only you could see how beautiful you look right now," he thought. You were doing such a job using him to cum. A pleasant smirk was placed on his face as he inhaled the substance sharply. Your pussy felt so fucking good against his thigh. So warm and wet. He looked down between you to see how your juices coated his skin, in which his leg hair glistened. Your hunger only became more evident the quicker your motions were. He enjoyed seeing you needy. It only made him more eager to be inside of you.

"How're you feeling, pretty girl?"

"G-Good. This feels so fucking good, baby," you whimpered.

"Can I help you feel better?" You nodded, causing him to take another puff of the joint before placing it between your lips. He moved his hands to your waist, gliding your hips back and forth in a frantic motion. SP firmly held you down to apply pressure to your throbbing clit. When you reached the peak of his knee, he bounced his leg as he rolled your hips in an infinity shape, immediately making you cry out.

"SP, baby, fuck! Fuck, don't stop doing that." Your mind felt cloudy not only from the weed but because of your near orgasm. Your eyes rolled back, taking another hit at the blunt, then holding it between his lips so he could too. All that circulated in the air was your lewd noises of whimpers and wetness of your soaking cunt, the smell of cannabis, and his curse words of approval. SP was determined to rip this climax out of you, and you knew from how he gripped your waist he was sure to do so. You couldn't help but think bruises would show the following day.

"I know you want to cum, angel. Go ahead and cum for me, yeah?" he cooed.

It's as if his voice was a spell in which you came on cue. Your pussy clenched onto nothing. He continued to grind you on his thighs to ride out your orgasm. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into your lips to transfer your moans into his mouth. Latching onto his tongue, you sucked it vigorously, and he involuntarily jerked his hips. He couldn't be more pleased with how your essences beautifully coated his thigh.

Once you finished your release, he abruptly pulled out his dick to give it a few pumps. He hated rushing while being with you, but he was too desperate to feel your pussy flutter around his length. SP lifted you, hooking his arms under your knees fold to align himself with your entrance. He began teasing your clit with his tip. However, after a few whines from you, he slowly applied pressure to your hole, allowing his dick to disappear into your body. You shared a lingering moan with yours ending in—

"F-Fuck—Oh gosh. S'big, SP," you purred.

"I know, angel, but you can take it. I know you can. Just relax for me. Let me take care of you." Your brows knitted, confused about how big his dick was. That angry mushroom-shaped tip stretched open your entrance. He was barely inside of you, and it already felt like you would cum again. You had sex several times, but you always had to adjust to his size. Though you trusted him, you knew he would fuck you good like all the other times. Thus, you relaxed your body to allow him in. "Yes—just like that, sweetheart. This pussy is so fucking tight. Look how it's already hugging me."

Every time SP raised you, he slammed you on his cock, ensuring to kiss your cushion. Your pussy was stubborn, but he had no issue working open those walls. His warm eyes pierced through your soul, focusing on seeing how pretty you looked while being fucked. Eyes heavy-lidded, slightly redden, filled with lust. Your full two-toned lips parted as soft whimpers aired through. The heat across your cheeks was evident even with the deepness of your complexion. SP enjoyed how you responded to his touch. It stroked his ego more because he knew his effect on you, and he would do anything to further that desperation.

His pace was now brutal. The gushing sound of your wetness echoed the room due to his tempo. You howled, and although he loved hearing your cries, he needed to savor those sweet lips again, eagerly plunging his tongue to the back of your throat. Your dripping cunt clenched, knowing its owner by how it molded around his dick. He stretched you so well. This toe-curling fucking is what you yearned for months. You didn't want to be filled by no one else but him, and how you creamed his cock, your pussy couldn't agree more.

"Yes. Fucking yes, baby. T-This dick is so—oh my gosh," you cried.

He chuckled. "This dick is so what, sweetheart? Talk to me. Tell me how you feel. This pussy is telling me, but I want to hear it from you."

"So—ngh—so fucking g-good. I missed this dick."

"It misses you too. You're doing such a good job taking me, pretty girl," he murmured. After a few more thrusts, he sat on the bed to have you bounce on his cock. He snapped your bra off with just one finger to throw across the room. Your full tits slightly sagged and were beautifully decorated with stretch marks. Those dark brown nipples had him drooling, immediately latching onto one of them in his mouth while he fondled the other. Your back arched as you intertwined your fingers into his dark locks to deepen his embrace. SP returned his warm hands to your ass to begin bouncing you.

"It's too deep. You're too deep—f-fuck."

"Tch, what did I tell you, sweetheart? I'm going to what?"

"You're—shit—you're going to take care of me," you quaked.

"That's right. You don't have to do anything. Let me do all the work, okay?" You nodded, causing him to smirk. "Good girl. Now, light that blunt while I fuck you."

It was tricky lighting the joint while he pulled you on his length, but you managed. You held the substance for him to inhale, exhaling on your skin as he left wet kisses along your core. Sweet, he notes. He continued building pleasure in which both your skin burned heat. You took a pull, sensually smooching his rosy pink lips as you lightly caressed the back of his neck. The high you feel now has been the highest you ever felt. A fire of spiraling sensations was now forming in your stomach. Your pussy gripped his cock without having any intentions of letting go.

This was the man you've been craving for months. The man you dreamed of day in and day out. Every time you made love, it felt like the first time. He was your favorite drug. A vision of ecstasy. You were in love—and he needed to know that.

"I love how you fuck me—I love you—I love you so much," you breathed.

His dick twitched. "What?"

"I said I love you, SP."

"Say it again," he rasped.

"I love you, S-"

"Yuka. That’s my name. Fuck, please. Please say that shit again."

"Y-Yuka—ah—I love you," you stammered as he gave you a deep stroke.

"Yes—Yes. You're so perfect. I love you, too, angel." How his given name rolled beautifully off your tongue had him going. However, hearing you say you love him caused a different hunger to unravel. He fucked you, and he fucked you hard. The tip of his dick was more than acquainted with your cushion. "You've been so fucking good to me. Kept this pussy nice and warm for me to come back to. Shit, I'm going to fill you up."

You inhale the joint before wrapping your arms around his neck, connecting your foreheads, and bouncing harder to aid your climax. "Yuka, please don't go. I don't want you to leave me. I need you, baby—I need you." How you were eagerly bouncing on his dick, begging for him to stay with you, made you look desperate—but you didn't give a fuck. Once you declared your love, that was it. Weed couldn't compare to how Yuka makes you feel. He loves you and told you his real name. You have this unorthodox bond that you can't explain, but that's okay. It's understood between you. However, you knew it would be more difficult to let him go after tonight.

"I'm not going anywhere, my love. I'm right here, okay?" he rasped. "Fuck, I'm about to cum."

"Cum inside of me, my love." His thrusts became sloppy to indicate his release. But the way your toes cramped up from curling so hard was the same for you. "Let's cum together, Yuka."

"Of course, pretty girl," he cooed, giving you a soft peck. "I love you, [Y/N]. I'm not letting you go. This pussy is mine—You're mine."

You nodded. "I'm cumming—I'm cumming—I'm fucking cumming. My fucking gosh, baby, I–" he crashed his lips onto yours, rolling tongues to devour each other's moan. A rippling of waves overcame your body as you felt your orgasm tear out. Your juices drenched his cock, feeling like he drowned in your pussy. That warm cum you requested painted your satin walls white. He fucked you through orgasm, causing tears of ecstasy to roll down your face. You dug those manicured nails deep into his flesh from the overstimulation. He wouldn't stop fucking because your pussy wouldn't let go, but once you felt yourself squirting—it was over.

It was the following day. The sunlight permeated your windows, reminding you that it was seven in the morning. Your head felt filled with air as if you were still coming down from your high. Sex with SP has always been amazing, but last night? Words couldn't describe how you felt. He fucked you 'til the crack of dawn. No—he made love to you. You confessed your love for each other. Despite it being in the heat of intimacy, you knew how you felt, and you'd been in love with him for months. Your small interactions were more than enough, but last night solidified your emotions. You even learned his given name—Yuka. It may be simple, but still, it was enough for you. He took care of you like no other.

After making you cum several times, you shared one more joint while he cleansed your body with a hot rag. Delicately leaving kisses on your shoulders and the shell of your ear, whispering how perfect you are. How much he loves you. How your pussy is better than any other drug that's been created. How you're his, and his only. Once Yuka was finished with aftercare, you laid in bed in a comfortable silence as he softly caressed your back with the pads of his fingers until you fell asleep. It was much easier for you to fall asleep. All you needed was his touch. A touch you also needed when you woke up. However, all you were left with was his scent. So much for "I'm not going anywhere."

You left bed to do your morning routine. It was Sunday, so today, you planned on relaxing. You threw on loungewear to sit on the balcony with your daily affirmations book, a rolled joint, and a glass of whiskey. Here you were again, gazing at the sky as you thought about Yuka. He could've at least waited until you were up to say his farewells. But, no. He was gone, and all you had to await was another phone call. Hopefully, it won't be three months this time. It made you sad. You accepted his lifestyle and knew what you were getting yourself into. He told you from the beginning, but sometimes you just wished Yuka was with you more. Just like last night, a lone tear escaped your eye. It's fine. You'll just get drunk and fill your ashtray, enjoying your own silence while reading.

At least that's what you thought….

"Good morning, sweetheart."

𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀. ♡

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