I dress the trout with herbs and spices.

I don’t like cooking fancy, because food is usually the last thing on my mind when I’m working. Plus I grew up poor, and I had to make do with few ingredients.

I wonder what Marcus thinks of this…me cooking for him, my sparse apartment, everything.

Compared to his elegant apartment, my place must seem like a very bland box. While he has art adorning every wall, tasteful furniture from the likes of Pottery Barn and Crate and Barrel, and even a full set of dishware...my place is decidedly less designed.

I have two plates, one for me and one for a guest. I have virtually never had another person over, so Marcus is actually the first person I can consider to be a guest.

My place is sparsely decorated because I’m always ready to run, ready to move, just in case my identity is ever discovered.

Hacking is no easy job. It’s highly illegal. Especially since I’m stealing millions of dollars from huge corporations. There’s no point in dressing up my apartment or in leaving more clues that need to be had as to my existence.

I’m used to living as a ghost. I’m naturally invisible to society, and that’s the way I like it.

Growing up on the streets taught me about how important it is to remain invisible. The cops came down hard on the poor neighborhoods. I learned at a very early age to just keep to myself and remain under the radar.

It’s a good thing I don’t care about pretenses, otherwise I might feel embarrassed about my place. As it is, I don’t mind.

I could be a multimillionaire by now if I kept all the money that I stole, or even just some of it. But money doesn’t impress me.

“Do you like your fish well done?” I ask him.

“Whatever you’re having.”

“I would apologize for the state of my apartment, but I really don’t care,” I say.

“I can see that.”

He doesn’t seem totally surprised by my living situation. Activism doesn’t pay well, after all.

He gets up and comes to stand behind me in the kitchen. I’m trying to concentrate on frying his fish, but when he buries his face in my neck from behind, the thrill of having him touch me like that sends waves of shivers down my body.

He turns off the stove, leaving the fish to fend for itself, and pulls me towards the bed. I’m at least glad that I make it a rule to have nice bedding.

He pulls me down on the soft duvet and kisses me. We make out for a long time, and I find that I’m even more attracted to him after having seen how he did today.

The fact that he has a sense of compassion for other people is such a turn-on. It’s my life’s work to help those people, so having seen Marcus be so natural in that setting made me want him more.

He pulls my hands up above my head and says, “Keep them there.”

He proceeds to undress me with his teeth. He pulls layer upon layer of clothing off of my body so that I’m spread eagle before him wearing absolutely nothing.

“Wow,” he marvels. “You’re absolutely fucking gorgeous.”

I’m naked and vulnerable, subject to his touch and his every whim and desire.

I’m his to take. And one look into his explosive eyes that are alight with lust makes me understand that this is going to be an experience I won’t ever forget.

He takes off his shirt, and I admire the view of his rippling abs and chiselled muscles that are carved and defined in every which way. He’s so handsome, and I can tell there’s also a fire burning within him that I also feel.

He brings one leg of mine up to his shoulder and proceeds to trickle small kisses down my ankle, down my leg, until his face is between my thighs and I’m quaking with need.

I move my hands down and so I can grip the sheets in pure expectation, but he pulls up and says, “Don’t do that. I want your arms above your head. Keep them there.”

I reluctantly do as he says, and I try to grip the headboard instead. There’s a certain satisfaction that comes with obeying him. I would never obey anybody else that wasn’t him. He has this power over me, and somehow it feels right to follow his lead, because I know that ultimately, he’ll lead me to having a wild orgasm.

I hold the headboard and arch my back as he goes to town on my pussy. I’m wet―and getting wetter by the second as his tongue plunges in and out.

He expertly licks my clit, and I swoon in pleasure. He keeps up a steady beat, and the intoxicating vibration is what I need to release.

I come hard into his mouth, and he licks up my juices as though it’s some kind of nectar. He’s ravenous for me, spurred on by my hot desire, which he just witnessed and pulled from my body.

Every time he makes me come, I know that I venture a little deeper into unsafe territory because it allows him to know how very badly I want him to consume me.

In these moments, there’s no façade or trickery that I can keep up. He sees all my truth, and there’s no hiding from him the fact that he’s the focus of all my arousal.

I am especially vulnerable in this position being spread out so wide before his hungry mouth.

He plunges two fingers inside of me, and I feel another wave of climax start to rise. He has me beholden to him, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. In this moment, I would do anything to ensure this next orgasm goes off without a hitch.

So when he says, “Tell me you’re mine. Say it.” I don’t hesitate or stumble on my words. I just give him what he wants.

“Yes. Fuck yes! I’m yours,” I cry.

Once he’s satisfied with my answer, he circles his two big fingers around the walls of my cunt making me cry out in glorious agony for more.

Then he smiles darkly while pressing those perfect fingers over my G-spot―and I’m toast.

I come fiercely and explode all over his hand. My pussy tightens, and yet he keeps on pleasuring me, forcing my G-spot to erupt again in another round of mini-orgasms that roll one into another.

No man has made me come like this. It’s an experience I’ll never forget. My body is convulsing, and I never knew it was possible to have this deep and vigorous of an orgasm.

My whole body is peaking with arousal. I feel like I could continue to come for an eternity. Waves upon waves of pleasure force me to shut my eyes tight and try to take in the reality of being so thoroughly fucked…

I feel like I could pass out―and I nearly do.

At last, he removes his expert fingers from inside of me. Then he traces them on my lips, forcing me to taste myself. I suck at his fingers and want for more.

Even though my body is still wavering in silent delight of having a delightful climax, I find myself always thinking of his giant cock and how badly I want it inside of me.

That’s the thing about a huge cock: it’s easy to become slave to the feeling of it torturing your tight pussy.

Even having come so hard, and even though I feel like I could pass out right here and sleep for 12 hours, I also know that my craving is not yet satisfied.

I shut my eyes and imagine his cock entering me right after I’ve come so hard. It’s a feeling that’s matched by no other.

And to my delight and greatest fantasy, he makes my dreams come true by unzipping and pulling off his pants to reveal that huge cock.

He doesn’t hold back or force me to suck it, but he instead slides it into my aching, dripping pussy that’s still vibrating.

He enters me at the perfect time, and I feel the ridge of the tip of his cock slide against my now engorged G-spot and that’s it...I’m done for.