lavinia was mean.

she didn’t even try to sugarcoat it, just straight up told you to leave after thoroughly giving her intense backshots that had her crying and creaming onto the drenched sheets underneath you both.

first, let’s rewind—

you were a nerd, or so you’d been told. though you weren’t always nose deep in comics or analysing every panel of your favourite anime. you actually went out, believe it or not.

the gym was where you met lavinia. you went there to stay healthy, get a little muscle— but consistently went there to not-so-subtly ogle the woman you had a crush on as she did squats. one day, you’d followed her into the sauna, despite her very obvious disinterest. you didn’t stop pestering her till you had her number.

you left the gym very satisfied that day.

and now very satisfied every time you were kicked out of lavinia’s apartment after thoroughly coating her insides with hot loads of your cum.

despite spending 2-3 evenings a week in lavinia’s bed, sometimes more and sometimes less, you were still a secret. she was embarrassed to be with you in public, honestly. she voiced those opinions very loudly—her disdain of the anime pins that covered your bags, the merch of shows you liked…

thing is, lavinia wouldn’t mind indulging you properly if you weren’t 21 and your frontal lobe had developed. lavinia was pushing 30 in a few years and fucking someone who could ruin her reputation of only dating older, mature men — and she couldn’t stand for that.

you wished to tell your friends about this hot cougar which you bagged, but your not exactly allowed to tell, which is fine; your more than willing to keep a little secret. that little secret was tucked away in a nice apartment that had a view of the entire city. a tranquil little place when he’s not around, he’s pretty sure— just not when he’s around.

again, the bed’s steadily rocking underneath the uneven weight you created. relentless smacking— skin to skin, hips to ass, the dirty little squelch that comes with it. 

there’s a view, but it’s not the city. 

“arch that back some more— yeaahhh, just like that.”

you pounds into her, balls hitting heavy against her clit as you pull her back to meet each thrust. moans spilled from her lips, taking every single inch you drilled into her. the stretch is insane as you worked your heavy cock in and out of you like it’s nothing. 

if there’s one thing about you, it’s that you can fuck. you can go on for hours, put her in any position, have her begging and crying, dwindle her down to nothing but a babbling mess from how many orgasms you can work out of her. 

you wore her out.

perhaps that was one of the only reasons she kept you around.

yet still, at the end of every night—

“kay’. we’re done here, you can leave now.” 

she was so fucking mean.

the first time you’d heard those words come out of her mouth, you were distraught; her bluntness no longer fragmenting your fragile ego. how dare lavinia throw you out after the backshots you’d given her?! you made her cum so hard she cried! then she just threw you out of her apartment like some useless whore– like you were nothing but a fucking slut! you had more to offer than just your dick, you’ll have her know. 

now your a little less emotional and more… 

“you sure? i could stay longer and help you with chores… or something.”

lavinia looked around her room, which is spotless aside from your t-shirt and jeans scattered on the floor. “sure. why don’t you start by picking up your clothes, putting them on, and then getting out?”

you just pouted, yet listened nonetheless; trying to create a little small talk and compliment how beautiful she was before you were rammed out the door—

the loud slam echoing throughout the complex solidified your departure, mouth hanging open in an unfinished sentence.