Jolts of pleasure shoot up and down my body as an explosive orgasm rushes over me. Before I can stop myself, I grind against Jacqueline’s tight pussy, squeezing out every last drop of cum.

Slowly, I return to reality. My pulse slows down as I regulate my breathing.

“Are you okay?” I tuck Jacqueline’s hair away from her damp forehead. “I didn’t mean to get carried away.”

“Yeah,” she says as she looks up at me with a big smile on her beautiful face.

This is not the first time I’m taken aback by the way she looks at me. It’s not just satisfaction in her big doe eyes. Deep in those pools of blue, something lurks.

It scares the shit out of me, but at the same time it sucks me in deeper and deeper. Like a sailor who’s heard the mythical siren song and succumbed, I’m probably fucked and I don’t care.

“Did it live up to your expectations?” I ask.

“No. It was better.” There’s sincerity in her voice, and again I try to tell myself that I’m being crazy.

There’s nothing sinister about Jacqueline. She’s just a beautiful girl who happens to be a virgin and, for some reason, I’m the lucky bastard she chooses to give her V-card to.

Just enjoy the tight pussy and don’t overthink.

Her muscles suddenly clench around my cock and she shudders deliciously in the aftershocks of her powerful orgasm. Still hard, I thrust into her. She moans and bites her bottom lip, then she begs me with her eyes for more.

“What is it, angel? You want me to keep fucking you?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I want you to keep fucking me.”

“Say please.”

“Please keep fucking me.”

Jesus, this girl is going to be the death of me. I’m already getting hard again from that look of pure lust on her face, and it’s been years since the last time I had the appetite for twice in a row.

If she’s going to milk me dry, I’ll die a happy man. So who cares? I’ll fuck her again and again until it’s time to go back to work again if she wants me to.

* * *

“Why do you live here, Gabriel?” Jacqueline’s laying on her side with an elbow on the bed, propping up her head with her hand.

The way her tits hang seems infinitely interesting to me. I can’t stop staring at her soft, creamy skin and her hardened pink nipples.

After hours of intense fucking, we’re finally tired enough to stop and order room service.

So, why do I live here?

“Because room service,” I say.

Jacqueline laughs, a melodic sound that pulls out childhood memories from the recesses of my mind, for some reason.

“No, I mean, your dad lives here in San Francisco, right? I hear he has a big mansion.”

“Yeah, he can be overbearing so I’d rather not live with him.”

I surprise myself with my answer.

I usually dismiss personal questions with jokes. Normally, I’d answer by saying I’ve grown tired of living in mansions and I want to slum it for a change—I’d probably get a laugh out of that, and it would give me the opportunity to change the subject.

“I know what you mean,” Jacqueline says with a sigh. “My family’s super overbearing, too.”

“Yeah. I got out of it by telling my dad I’m trying to see what it’s really going to be like, to live here again on my own.”

“Oh, you’re thinking of coming back for good?” she asks.

“Well, the whole reason I’m back here is because my dad wants me to work here where the pay and the living conditions are better.” I pause when I realize Jacqueline wouldn’t know what I’m talking about, so I add, “Eight years ago, I joined the Peace Corps and went to Africa. I ended up staying there to work for various NGOs and hospitals.”

She nods, as if she already knows about my background. I’ve always felt like Jacqueline knows a lot more about me than she lets on, but that’s probably just a paranoid thought.

I mean, anybody can find out all that stuff with a quick Google search. Lots of people Google the people they date, right?

Maybe I’m just looking for her flaws, searching for excuses to burn whatever we have to the ground.

The truth is, she makes it hard for me to leave, when it used to be a simple, clear-cut decision. And it terrifies me that I feel that way after spending such a short time with her.

I mean, what was I even thinking, luring Jacqueline into a hospital room with me so we could fuck? I was already risking my reputation for her. I can’t trust myself with these feelings.

Jacqueline asks me more questions about my family, and I tell her about my mom and dad. In turn, I ask her to tell me about her family.

Her dad’s not around, and she lives with her mom and her brother, but that’s about all she’s willing to tell me. She gets evasive when we get into details. It sounds like she’s the only one in the house who works, so she might be embarrassed about that.

The food comes, and we have a lively conversation about work and life. I feel like I can tell her anything, and I do.

I don’t usually let my guard down with my fuck buddies, but that’s not all Jacqueline is. I have a feeling I’m going to hate myself if I let her go. I’ve never felt such magic in my life.

We get closer over the next few days, and the magic only grows stronger.

We fuck a lot, and we go on real dates too. Short, intense dates limited by our long work hours and peppered with interruptions from our pagers.

The long absences only make things better when we do meet. Neither one of us sleeps much when she visits me at the hotel. (She never takes me to her place.)

Whatever time we have outside of work together, we spend fucking and talking. The days blur together as infatuation and sleep deprivation dominate my mind. I stop paying attention to the changing days.

But all that talking has barely scratched the surface. It’s like both of us are scared of probing too deep, terrified we’re going to find something that destroys the magic.

But it’s time to talk.

She needs to know what kind of a person I am.

I hurt the people who get close to me. I’ve even killed someone.

Maybe there’s darkness inside me. The same darkness that compels me to treat her like a whore in the bedroom. She needs to know I’m damaged. Dangerous.

It terrifies me that I keep pushing and pushing her boundaries. She seems to like it, but it would be wrong for her to place so much trust in me, because I don’t deserve it.

At the same time, out of my own selfishness, I don’t want to lose the control over her body that she offers up to me every time we meet.

But I need to say something now. We need to come clean.

She hid the fact that she was a virgin from me and I almost hurt her. What if our secrets implode and ruin what we have when we’re already too intertwined?

No. Now is the time for a serious conversation.