There’s something freeing about being in public with no makeup on, no effort in making my hair beautiful, no fake smile to give to the male population. In fact, my lack of peripheral color only seems to cloak me in darkness. They see a woman who tries not to be beautiful, a woman who prefers natural comfort to artificial colors, and they cower. They can’t stand looking at any face that doesn’t project friendliness.

I walk around the park at a leisurely stroll, enjoying the feeling of not flirting with anyone. Men and women pass me by and don’t see a sexual object. In fact, they barely acknowledge my existence.

I’m walking Freudo, my Chihuahua, who’s been a little down lately. He’s a bit of an older dog but he still has a lot of fight left in him. He has definitely bonded with me. He won’t go anywhere new unless I first wrap him in a blanket and softly lay him down on the ground. Lucky for me, Freudo is such a vicious little monster he’ll chase off any male suitor that surpasses my non-makeup shield and goes for the kill anyway.

My phone rings and I see a familiar face on the screen. A certain billionaire, an aggressive and possessive stallion who has to fight to control himself. He suppresses his urge to just kidnap me, seat me at his desk, and rant on for hours until he persuades me of how pure his intentions are. Of course, he’s mad. But it’s the kind of madness, of unflinching devotion, every woman wants. Or at least…the kind of attention she desires from a GOOD man. And it’s never been proven to me or anyone that Zander Troy is a good man.

I answer my phone, still eying Zander’s contact profile in suspicion.

“I’m amazed you called first. You know, before you just showed up randomly in my bathroom or something. Stalker.”

“It hasn’t been easy,” he says. “This whole being patient thing is new to me. And not unlike a pepperoncino. Something I have to taste once and hopefully never again.”

“Never again, huh? And what does that mean?”

“I’m not promising we’re going to get married. I wouldn’t lie to you by giving you a promise I don’t know that I can keep.”

“Okay, that’s fair. I respect your obsessive need to claim you’re not a liar. Nothing at all suspicious about that…” I giggle.

“But what I mean is…this odd relationship dynamic between us. Where I honestly try…where I respect you and want to court you the right way. This isn’t for me.”

“Really!”

“This is the first and only time I’ll ever attempt it. I’m not in my element. It’s alien. It’s something that only exists because I like you that much.”

“Well, it’s called being nice. And you should give it a chance. Rather than just dating groupies and escorts all the time. Maybe a girl getting you to try a little harder IS what you like.”

“I like YOU. Not this game. I like you enough to play your game. When can I see you again, Maya?”

“Do you have a dog, Zander?”

“No.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

“Why?”

“No reason.”

“If you’re assuming that I’m incapable of love, like so many people seem to suggest, I think that’s a faulty analogy. Everyone assumes that ‘dog people’ are affectionate, cat people are passive-aggressive. But the truth is that dogs are not affectionate. They’re domesticated. Dogs are slaves, created beings made that way from the naturalness of wild gray wolves. They’re living GMO products. Cats, on the other hand, are carnivorous. If I were judging someone from their cat or dog preferences, I would think I was marrying a controlling bitch or an antisocial sadist. But I don’t judge people according to their pets, do I?”

I finally laugh. “All I meant is that guys with dogs have been shown a lot of love. I know from experience. I have a Chihuahua. It loves me unconditionally. You seem almost…detached from human emotion.”

“I love animals. I own a zoo. I ride horses, I campaign for whales…”

“But you’ve never owned a dog.”

“No. When I was younger I used to collect birds.”

“Birds?”

“Yes. Parrots, cockatiels, doves and finches.”

“So you’re a collector,” I say with a loaded grin which I’m sure he can hear even over the phone.

“I suppose some people would see it that way. But to me, birds are great survivors. They’re descendants of the dinosaurs. Fossil records show us that birds evolved from the maniraptoran therapods family. I never really thought of them as birds. I thought of them as monsters, terrible lizards who had become…kind. Who saw the practicality of coexisting with mammals rather than eating them.”

“Wow. I do believe you’ve talked to me more than any other woman you’ve ever dated. Tell me I’m wrong.”

He laughs. “Well, women don’t date me for my conversation, do they?”

“That’s a shame. Because conversation means everything with me.”

“Do you have good conversation with Billy?”

“Funny you should mention Billy,” I say with a squint. “He hasn’t texted or called all week. What did you do?”

“You assume I have that much control?”

I inhale and exhale. The thought, the idea of Zander Troy chasing me is making my blood rush. The feeling of rejecting him feels just as exciting as a kiss.

“You say you own a zoo?”

“Yes. The Troy-Lindell Western Heights Zoo, my family’s owned it for the last twenty years. It’s the best kept zoo in the state. Huge aviary…for obvious reasons.”

“I want you to take me to that.”

“Oka—”

“With my parents. I want to see you outside of your element. No fancy dinners, no celebrities, no limo rides and make-out sessions in your mansion. Just you, Zander, coexisting with human beings.”

“I thought your parents hated me.”

“No, you actually made a good impression last time they saw you. But just to warn you…two dates might imply to them that we’re a couple.”

He chuckles. “Maya, I’m not buying your parents tickets to my first-class zoo, the best reviewed park in the entire country.”

“Then I’m not going with you.”

“You and your parents are coming with me for a special backstage pass. I want them to see the aviary my family built, and that I maintained, up close and personal. Happy now?”

“Okay…I’m impressed,” I say with a giddy voice. “But can I bring my Chihuahua dog?”

“He won’t attack my birds, will he?”

“I’ll make sure he’s bundled up.”

“Then it’s a date.”

My God, I can’t believe he said yes! No matter how far I push Zander away, he always falls back into my arms, right before joyously spinning me around into a dance. I like the man he becomes whenever I resist him. He becomes more of the on-camera Zander I once fell for…a man who finally feels a purpose in his soulless life. Or at least…that’s the fantasy that’s turning me on.

To my surprise, Zander is “performing” beautifully. He’s showing my parents around the zoo, backstage, telling them stories of how his family bought a small zoo and continually improved it, eventually making it the largest zoo in the south. It was his idea to build onto the aviary, welcoming exotic new species and ensuring they had plenty of room to fly freely. As Zander told my mother, “a caged animal has no choice but to become a monster.” He does seem legitimately fascinated with how birds have evolved over millions of years. From brutality to grace and sophistication. Speaking of his own damaged soul, perhaps?

“This was very sweet, Zander,” my mom says, for the first time speaking to him with compassion. “The way you talk about your birds is very interesting.”

“I suppose it’s more of a quirk than a hobby. I had them growing up. But over time, I realized that an aviary is the only place they can thrive. There simply wasn’t enough room in my childhood playroom. Even little things need to be free.”

“Did they ever poop on you?” Dad says.

“You’re so terrible!” Mom says, slapping him on the shoulder.

“I’m just asking. That’s why I gave away my parakeet. I felt that was disrespectful. Of course, I was only twelve but it was the principle of the thing.”

“Well, maybe he was acting out,” Zander says with a smile. “In the little bird’s mind, maybe his defiant droppings were a social revolution.”

“You’re too smart for me, kid!”

I hug my bundled Chihuahua dog, giving its little growling face some TLC…but I have to admit, I’m distracted by the conversation Zander is holding down with my parents. No, he’s anything but comfortable. To Zander, I’m sure being social and friendly—and talking like an EQUAL—is new and revolting. Sort of like how a normal person feels about binge drinking the first time she does it. But it gets easier, Zander…it does get easier.

It was actually my parents’ idea to get an Uber ride home—paid for by Zander, at his insistence. They felt their presence was interfering with Zander and I’s “quality time” together. They even took Freudo home, just so I could spend an hour or two getting to know the Renegade Prince.

Little did they know, I didn’t actually want Zander alone. Zander alone is where he is most comfortable. Where all his deals and all his womanizing takes place. He’s the lone wolf, not the domesticated dog, in his own words. So my plan was to see him challenged. Out of his “cage”, so to speak.

He didn’t disappoint. He proved today he could be very charming when he puts his mind to it. Whether or not he was “really” having fun is irrelevant. The fact that this whole charade was all a gift to me is what made it amazing.

Once a man walks a mile for you, you start to realize it’s not just to get into your pants anymore. Zander doesn’t need to wait for anyone. Maybe it’s not a completely “wholesome” interest in me, but whatever his real attraction is, is still an engrossing mystery I can’t wait to solve.

“Thank you for showing my family a good time. I spoil my parents. They were good to me, I try to pay it back. With everyone.”

I wore something homely today. Just bayside pants and a white blouse. Free, easy to travel in. Nothing that sends Zander the message: I want you because you’re trying soooo hard.

“My mother died when I was young,” he admits as we walk around the aviary at dusk. “And my father’s final words to me were, ‘Don’t you dare ruin the legacy of this family. Your name is more important than your life.’”

“Oh my God, he really said that?”

“He wanted me to know how the world saw me. That’s what mattered. Not what ‘is’, but what should be. That was the secret to business.”

“Did you love him?”

“I think so. I didn’t cry at his funeral. But I did remember some of the good times we had.”

“There’s something about you that’s very sad. This is the side you hide from the press, isn’t it?”

“Well…to put it in avian terms. Whenever a bird is injured they try very hard to hide all signs of that injury. Showing weakness to a predator or even an equal is just asking for a greater injury. My family always believed in hiding our moments of vulnerability. It wasn’t good for business.”

I look into his eyes and find his true self. Behind his arrogance, behind his passive hostility that buys its way out of conflict, there is only a boy. A boy who’s too afraid to let other fierce creatures see his burden of doubt.

We both feel a spark. A tingling of our lips and a chill. I want him to kiss me. To just reach over and take me into his arms. He feels the same sensation. He almost starts to move forward, looking into my eyes and opening his mouth. He smiles.

“I just want you to know. I think you look beautiful, Maya. There is something so glowing, so angelic about you, I can’t resist taking you into my arms. I can’t resist kissing you. And I would have…if we were not in a zoo and there wasn’t the faint smell of monkey shit in the air.”

I crack up laughing and he smiles.

“Agreed.”

“Would you like to go out for coffee?”

“I’d love to.”

We decided to step out for coffee and donuts at an all-night diner in MY neighborhood. A suburb that leads to a patch of malls and stores, a place the great Zander Troy has probably never even set foot in, let alone open his heart in. But that’s been my one objective, to see his heart, and see whether he has a heart at all. For all I know, this Zander may be “performing”. Maybe men just work harder to stick their dicks in a hard-to-get woman. Maybe once the sex is over, they realize the horrible mistake they made. All the promises they can’t keep. How much more interesting life is when they’re playing to WIN rather than just coexisting in relationship hell.

Hell, I understand how guys feel sometimes. I relate to their commitment-phobic minds. Everything seems better in concept than in reality.

Of course, as I stare stupidly at Zander from across the table, I can’t help but think fewer intellectual thoughts and instead ponder over more primal, animalistic urges.

Like how I want to ride his cock and experience the soreness of first-time, cherry-popping sex. How I want him to kiss me, not just my lips, but every inch of my body.

Most men don’t understand the difference between romantic sex and drunk fucking. It’s all in the obsession. A drunk stunt cock will only work so hard. He can barely muster up the effort, barely put any investment into seduction.

But the romantic guy, he is committed to his dirty fantasy, isn’t he? He can take anything a woman throws at him, whether it’s her very unromantic parents, or a dozen rejections, or even a nationally embarrassing interview. Nothing softens his hard dick. He’s willing to recite poetry, write poetry, dress well and charm the whole world just for the chance to get you naked.

To me, that’s erotic. That’s maddening attraction that you can barely understand, barely resist. I feel the same urge to open my clothes, my body to him that all the other women felt. Because you feel this connection, this heat, that’s wholly original. You’ve awoken something in him that’s brand new, never been touched. He loved many women…but he’s never been in love.

“What is love to you, Zander?”

“What is love to anybody? It’s a word we use when we WANT something from someone else.”

“Interesting perspective there.”

“Do you want the emotional answer? Love is something beautiful. Love is the energy of humankind, what makes our world spin. We have love among sex partners, love with friends, love with family, love with our coworkers, our business associates. Everyone loves. But then again, everyone wants to put special rules and terms and conditions on their one true love.”

“And do you, too?”

“Maybe I don’t want to think of love as a list of rules and demands. Maybe I like this ‘love’ thing better if it’s just free. No rules.”

“So you resent the rules? You’re a bad boy who hates being told what to do?”

“I DO everything people want me to do. The reason I’m the Devil is because I play that role that everyone secretly needs to exist. But everyone wants me to act a certain way. Why else do you think the press talks about me and gossips so maliciously about what I do in my spare time?”

“I want you to experience love, Zander. The corny, touchy-feely way everyone else has experienced it.”

“Well, who doesn’t want that?” he says with a halfhearted smile. “Everyone just needs everyone else to see the world from their perspective. Maybe that’s the kind of love we really do need more of in this world. Empathy.”

“See, you say something awesome like that and then you around and insult people who are trying to like you.”

“Hmm, you have a valid criticism. And by the way, is that what you do, Maya? Analyze people’s flaws and explain to them in great detail what they need to change to be likable?”

“Touché! But see, you just insulted me again, so double-touché to you.”

I laugh softly and then look upwards, thinking back to so many forgotten life lessons. The stuff I “learned” before I replaced it all with business acumen.

“My whole life I’ve only told people what they wanted to hear. My family. The media. Business people. And of course, the women. Most of the women I knew told me what they wanted. They made suggestions. For most of my teens and early twenties I played the grinning fool. The man who lived only to make women smile. Buy them things. Take them to Paris. Make love in an airplane because no stewardess would dare interrupt ME. They wanted a taste of power. I never knew what love tasted like.”

“I can let you taste me, Zander,” I tease. “Kind of salty.”

He laughs. “Don’t tempt me.”

“And so you resent me because I know the truth about you. That you’re a really neat guy and very sexy.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“But that I’m smart enough to realize this will only be for one night. And that I’ll never hear from you again. I’m okay with that, you’re okay with that. But there’s this strange awkward dynamic between us now, because you can’t accept that someone sees through you.”

“You want the truth?”

“Always. You’re not a liar, are you? That’s why I like you Zander. You tell people what they want to hear. But you don’t lie.”

“The truth is, I bribed Billy, your boyfriend, to stay away from you.”

I open my mouth in subdued shock, realizing the mystery of Billy’s disappearance has been solved. You asshole. That’s what I should say. Instead, I stay silent, thinking it over.

“I want to kiss you. I want to give you your Valentine’s Day present. But I won’t keep secrets from you.”

“You bribed him?” I snicker to myself. “How much?”

“Uhh…” He laughs. “Several, several, several dollar bills.”

“Uh huh. How much? No, really. I want to know how much I was worth to him.”

“Maybe it was just twenty bucks.”

“I doubt it.”

“The point is, he took the bribe. Love has a price…at least, most guys have a price. I think that’s the point here.”

“Hmmm.” I stare at him, feeling both angry and flattered at the same time. “And here I thought Billy’s love was incorruptible. But he sold me out for a bribe.”

“A grant. He’s a business man first, I knew that about him the moment I saw his stupid picture on a website.”

“You are the Devil. You know that?”

“Maybe. But that’s not what you’re thinking. You’re not outraged, nor offended. Definitely feeling something. So tell me how you feel.”

“I feel…aroused,” I say with a smirk.

“Do tell.”

“The idea that you met Billy and just clobbered him. Completely destroyed him and all without any violence or threats. All because he was your competition. You saw his weakness and you exploited it. That’s a very predatory thing to do.”

“And it turns you on?”

“Means you’re dangerous,” I say with a sexy head bob. “There’s something very sexy about a man who destroys the competition without breaking a sweat.”

“Big deal. Business is predatory. Life is predatory.”

“But see, it’s not about money. Because if Billy had just kicked your ass instead of taking the bribe, maybe he would have won.”

“But he didn’t. I’m a gambling man, I knew I was going to win. Or else I wouldn’t have risked it. You know, in bird life, the male hawk has to go out and kill and exploit other animals just to keep him and his mate alive. She also hunts, and in some cases two hawks will mate for life. They love each other and kill lesser birds and mammals. So maybe there is hope for all of us finding love.”

“But some birds are very non-monogamous. Pretty sure I read that somewhere.”

“Yes and some girls like to think they’re the victim when they’re actually the predator.”

“Oh?” I say, grinning. “What are you implying, Mister Troy?”

“That maybe we’re both attracted to each other for a good reason. Maybe we don’t get along so well with other people. Maybe we’re both heartless but we find solace in each other’s antisocial behavior.”

“Speak for yourself, Zander. I’m a nice girl.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m attracted you. Because you’re not a nice girl. And I’m not such a nice man. But together we actually form one decent human being.”

“Damn, dude, you’re really jumping ahead. Not even a ring on my finger and already talking about babies?”

He laughs. “That didn’t come out right.”

“Uh huh…”

“All I know, Maya, is that I don’t know what this is for sure. But neither do you. And all I feel in my heart is that I want you. I want you in my life somehow. I want to experience something with you. I want you, however you’ll have me. Your terms, your rules. We both want to see this experiment through and want to learn what THIS is.”

“That’s all very sweet, but…”

“But nothing. Someone has to carry the fire, isn’t that right?”

“What did you say?”

“That quote that you gave me. For some reason it stayed with me. I have to carry the fire. I remembered that and so I looked it up. Cormac McCarthy’s The Road.”

I open my eyes in surprise. “I can’t believe you looked it up.”

“I read the whole book. I figured there was some significance behind the line since you spoke it to me as some fading afterthought. I want to be nowhere else but inside your head. What better way to know your mind than to spend time with some of your favorite writers?”

“You really did that?”

“Yes.”

“Then explain it. Explain why I said that to you.”

He sighs.

“Busted! You didn’t even read it…”

“Well, in the book, the father and son talk about ‘carrying the fire’. I took this to mean he was teaching his son to be cautious but to stay hopeful, always believing there are still good people in the world. So when he dies, he tells his son to carry the fire. He said the fire was ‘inside you.’”

“And so what did it mean? Why did I say it, Zander?”

“Well, I know why you said it. Some convoluted reasoning you have about the world being a good place and I should find the hope in my life. Keep believing in people. Yada yada.”

I glare back at him. He didn’t get the point—

“But that wasn’t as interesting to me as what inspired you to say it. This is how you want people to see you. As an angel, as a messenger of the divine. You are the fire, Maya. You’re the hope, you’re the silver lining. You are what every man wants. The innocence, the voice of optimism. The unbridled, unquenchable spirit of womankind. You make life beautiful, people like you who remind us all what fun it is to have a soul.”

I giggle and hide my head. “I don’t give myself that much credit.”

“Did you want to be a writer?”

“Yes,” I admit shyly. “When I was in high school I wanted to change the world. Write something brilliant that would change people.”

“And have you given up? Did the cynicism and cold-hearted treachery of people like me slow you down?”

“Haven’t given up,” I reply. “Just…less concerned about others lately, more concerned about my own happiness.”

“What a strange hedonistic attitude I can’t possibly relate to.”

I laugh. “I loved that book, too. The writing was amazing. I told myself I want to write like that someday.”

“You can do anything you set your mind to do.”

“Yeah, well…maybe not. I just don’t seem to have the motivation anymore.”

“Maybe you just need to go home and find that inspiration.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I mean it. Go home, Maya. Go home.”

A curious thing to say, which makes me immediately suspect Mr. Troy is up to some chicanery.

“No, really. What?”

“Maybe it’s time you go home.”

He keeps taunting me with more esoteric sentences. Hiding something, but piquing my curiosity. A man of mystery, a man of riddles…and he knows just the way to torture me in ways I find amusing.

“Then I simply demand you take me home. So I can solve this riddle. I want to know what inspiration is waiting for me at home.”

“Let me guess,” I say with a smile as Zander leads me to my front door step, covering my eyes. “Two men? Is that the inspiration I need?”

“Of course not. What kind of perv do you think I am?”

He uncovers my eyes and lets me find a package sitting on my porch.

“What is it?” I scream. “Tell me!”

“Look and see. I bought it for you.”

“Got just the thing! Pocket knife.”

I smile and pull out my pocket knife, proving to be a survivalist till the very end.

“Sexy, a woman who knows her way around knives.”

“That’s right, so don’t piss me off or else I’ll cut you.”

“Not into bloodletting. At least, not on the first date.”

“Second date.”

“The first time was an actual date?”

“Yes and you blew it, Zander,” I say, right before grinning and letting him off the hook.

I tear the box open and behold something out of this world!

“Is this…what is…”

“Look at it.”

I stare at the light blue manual typewriter. The inscription reads Lettera 32 Olivetti. A collector’s item, no doubt.

“I knew you would not be so easily impressed by shameless displays of wealth, I knew I would have to outthink you and make this gift ABOUT something. Read what’s on the paper.”

I take the paper out and start reading aloud. “My darling, this is the same typewriter I used to write The Road so many years ago. My advice to you is that you do what my teacher once told to me. Don’t give up. Don’t lose the fire. There is nothing average or everyday about you. Some people are destined for greatness. Someday, I believe you will be great too. Because I know you will always believe in the goodness of people. That alone, is what makes people reach out for the stars.”

I smile exuberantly, clutching the typewriter as if it were my own child.

“You wrote that, didn’t you?” I ask, setting the typewriter down on the rocking chair.

“Maybe. Or maybe the author wrote it to a friend or a lover. Maybe it’s a mystery that will never be solved. What matters, though, is what you make of it.”

I can’t resist any longer! I grab him in a hug and don’t let go. “I love it!” I sing to him. “I can’t believe you remembered. I love it, it’s so awesomely sentimental. So unlike you…I just never imagined you would actually remember!”

“Really didn’t cost that much either,” he says with a cunning smile.

“Do you really, you know, believe in me?”

“Of course, Maya. Why do you think I follow you so loyally? I’m not attracted to you because I secretly crave normality. I’m falling for you because I know you’re like me. You’re capable of so much more. From the first time I saw you…well, the second time…” I laugh. “From then, after you so boldly got my attention, I knew this one was going to be something special. I felt electricity in the air. The making of a superstar. At first I thought I could you mold into somebody great. But the more I got to know you, the more I realized you already are magnificent. If only arrogant schmucks like me would listen to you once in a while. Humble ourselves…and listen to the wisdom of idealists.”

“And you do listen, don’t you?” I say, staring into his eyes and softly caressing his soul. My voice becomes soft and my body tenses in his presence. My heart melts and I feel myself leaning into him, tilting my head, desiring his essence.

“I want you to know that I resisted kissing you a dozen times tonight.”

“Mmm. Really?” I say with a smile, still feeling my heart flutter like a butterfly.

“Yes. But each time it felt too strategic, too clever. Now I want you to know, as I take you into my arms and kiss you, this time it feels right. Because I can hear your heartbeat. It’s aligned with mine.”

He takes me into his arms and puts his hand on my neck to feel my pulse. I smile back at him in surrendering, fawning love. I eye his lips hungrily, desiring his very soul, craving our essences to mingle. I take his hand so politely positioned on my neck and put it on my breast—letting him feel my heartbeat.

He takes his time, looking me in the eyes, then down at the lips he’s going to penetrate. He lets me have this moment, of expectation, of fruition. He smiles and I smile back at him. I beg him with my eyes. And finally, he takes me into his hands and kisses my lips like fire.

He sucks in my lips and I lose my breath just being in his presence. I want all of him, to feel everything he has inside. I hum softly as he kisses me for long juicy moments on end, never enough. Never enough. He’s waited so long to taste me and now he savors it.

I break the kiss reluctantly, patting his lips. “Come inside,” I mutter.

We laugh all the way to the bedroom, racing to the spot where I’m going to let him take me. Give him my flower. Give him my virgin sacrifice and let the Devil corrupt me however he wants to.

Ever since I fell for Zander I’ve been secretly dressing for him, carefully choosing the right clothes that make me feel resistant to his charms. I never quite knew when our romance would bloom or if it would, ever. But today he’s going to get the fantasy he’s always wanted. Because today he seduced me. And he’s earned seeing my secret dress code that I wore just for him, always thinking in the back of my mind, maybe this will be the day he undresses me.

I lay back on the bed and lift my blouse off, showing him a cotton white bra, something cutesy and virginal, carefully selected just for him. Not too sexy, because he’s the sexy one. He wants to please me. Just natural. Real.

We kiss on the bed, already immersed in each other’s breath. I love the way he touches my chest, so eager to fondle my body, but so patient. He doesn’t want to rush things…he wants me to slow boil until the desire consumes me. He pulls my black pants off and sees the matching white panties I selected just for him. Wherever we were, whenever we decided…I wanted him to see me in white. Like the dirty version of a white wedding dress…so immaculately white, the stains of sex and bleeding would make it look so wicked.

I spread my legs for him and feel him reach over with his hand to feel my warm thighs. He teases me, tapping his fingers forward until he just barely grazes my pelvis, then switches to the other side, not giving me the satisfaction of a full stroke. He crawls on top of me and kisses me again, his warm lips pushing down gently until he begins tasting my neck.

I coo softly as he plants hot kisses all along my shoulders and upper chest.

“Yes…kiss me…”

“Kiss you where?” he says, lowering his lips down to my breasts, gently pushing them together. His soft, burning lips meander all over my cleavage, making my body tense.

“Right th-there…” I mumble, shutting my eyes as he pulls my bra cups out so he can see my nipples. I breathe deeply, my body shivering from the excitement of exposing myself to him. “Yeeesss…” I sing as he kisses my sensitive nipple, sending a shock through my body. He moves over and kisses the other one, as I cheer him on with little sighs.

“Take this off,” he whispers before lowering his face and kissing my stomach. Just as I sit up and reach around for my bra strap, he comes up to meet me, placing more greedy kisses all over my breasts, and tummy, and ribs…

Oh God, he turns me over on my side and sinks his mouth into my back, tickling my lower back with humid heat. I can only shudder as he kisses the small of my back while taking the bra off himself. He unhooks it and gives me a line of steamy smooches up and down all over my back down to my butt.

“Ohhh my God…” I sigh as he puts his fervid, ravenous mouth all over my ass, kissing the flesh and grabbing my cheeks with his strong hands. “Kiss me there…yeah…oh God…”

“You’re so beautiful,” he says softly as he puts his hot mouth right over the back of my panties while rubbing my back.

“Yes…keep talking to me…”

“I want you…I’ve never wanted anyone so bad…”

“How excited are you?” I say with a naughty smile.

“You tell me,” he says, slowly stabbing the space in between my thighs with his big…very big…erect cock.

“Ohhhh my God!” I scream out, forgetting all manners. The feeling of his manhood grazing my ass, barely rubbing against my aching womanhood, takes my breath away.

“You want to see it?”

“Yes…”

“Say it.”

“I w-want to see your…cock…” I feel a chill as I say the word, so naughty, so raw and primal.

I moan softly, lowering my head in horny shame. He’s already too much man for me. He kisses my ass from cheek to cheek as he slowly…slowly…pulls my panties down, exposing everything to him.

I sigh loudly, barely able to control my quivering voice. I’m so fucking wet and he hasn’t even started making love to me yet.

He pulls back up into a kneeling position. I excitedly turn over and spread for him. I spread my legs just so he can see my hairy triangle—untouched, pure for him.

He looks down at me and smiles. He takes great joy in taking his designer shirt off, exposing his big pecks and tight abs—a perfect physical specimen. Seeing his shirtless body makes me gulp. I can barely wait to suck on his nipples, to rub his perfectly chiseled muscles…

I erupt into shy little giggles when he looks at me in that sexy gaze while unfastening his pants. My body is so hot for him…I can barely sit still…

He steps out of his pants, leaving his gorgeously sculpted body in just his dark underwear. Barely, oh, just barely hiding his growing penis behind a thin polyester layer.

“L-Lemme see it…” I mutter, already out of breath, already just a few strokes away from an orgasm.

“All for you,” he says, pulling his drawers down slowly…reveling in the anticipation. My jaw drops in virginal triumph as he shows me just a small streak of pubic hair.

I nervously chuckle, glancing around…right before he whips out his big, fucking huge, giant dick.

“Oh my God…” I say, leaning backwards in loving, fearful respect of that massive boner. He scoots closer to me, aching for me to touch his cock.

“It’s finally happening,” I said.

“Shhh…just concentrate on the feeling.”

“Mmmm-hmm!” I cry out, flinching and feeling my heart pound away. I stare at his erect penis and my blood is almost cold upon seeing it. The head is circumcised and he has to measure at least ten inches long. I feel hot in the head and all of my insides flutter.

“Lie down,” he says in a commanding yet tender voice.

“Uh huh…” I exhale back to him.

I pull him in close as he lay on top of me, resting his dick on my pubic bone. We kiss again, soft, lingering, so wet and humid.

“I’m going to make to love to you now,” he whispers softly in my ear.

“Yes…yes…” I gasp back, as brain-fried as a zombie, but feeling orgasmically numb from every single pore. He grabs my breasts as he pushes himself forward, looking for my tight opening.

“Mmmmmm…” I mutter as I feel his warmth enter me. Ohhhh God, he’s so big. I can barely make a sound as he pushes himself in just an inch further.

I can feel my cherry pop with a slight tingling, a barely painful little tear…

He takes it very slow, very gentle as he pushes himself against me, just a little bit more of an inch as I’m ready to take it.

“Tell me if it hurts.”

“Okay…”

I tense up and groan as more of his huge cock enters my tight wet hole for the first time. The first time I’ve ever been penetrated. I feel a different tingling around my vaginal wall, a very different feeling from a clitoral orgasm. A swelling, an urgency that I can barely push back.

“Ohhh God…Stop.”

“What’s wrong?” he says pulling back slowly.

“Too much…too much…”

I felt a strange combination of orgasm and extreme pain, topped with anxiety. I didn’t know how else to describe it but to say STOP.

He listens and holds me in his arms as I slow down my breathing.

“We can try again.”

“Okay…but I’m a little nervous.”

“Just lie back,” he says with a smile. “Trust me.”

I nod, as he kisses his way from my face down to my breasts and belly button…and then to my trimmed pussy hair. He lingers there, rubbing his nose in it, right before going down and finding my clit.

My eyes open up and I smile in agony as he begins tonguing my sensitive clit. The little spot is accustomed to vibrators but not such smooth, unrelenting lips and that fiery tongue. He drags his tongue up and along my pussy lips, his steaming breath warming and moistening my intimacy. The feeling is so intense I wrap my legs around his back, barely able to contain myself. My wetness only increases and I shut my eyes in embarrassment. But he only seems to like it.

I moan softly as I watch him putting a finger inside my pussy and gently exploring the tight opening.

“Yes…that feels good.”

He explores with his finger just as his tongue circles my throbbing clit. He grabs my thighs and pushes himself closer, deeper into my pussy.

“I’m bleeding, aren’t I?”

“Relax…just surrender to the feeling,” he says right before going back to my swelling clit.

“Yes…yes…it feels so good.”

“Focus on how wonderful it feels. Trust me…” he says, right before putting his wet finger on my clit and rubbing it even faster.

“Ohhh God!”

“Shhhh…just surrender to me. Embrace the unknown.”

“Yesss!” I grunt back, as he begins licking my wet cunt, tasting everything dirty and sinful inside of me. My pussy gets so wet, now feeling pressure from both points. His breath falls all over my lips, even while his fingers so masterfully stroke my clit with a circular rhythm.

“Aahhhh…Ohhhh Zander…”

He takes his second hand and pulls back the hood of my clit just so I can feel even more clitoral torture. I tense up and my pussy juices trickle down into his hungry mouth.

“Yesss, oh Zander…ohhhh, you’re eating me so good…so good…”

“Mmmm,” he hums, loving the taste of my pussy so much he seems to be rocking back and forth in preorgasmic bliss. He pulls his fingers out and greedily storms my clitoris again, tugging at it with his lips and sucking it in. He grabs my tits and squeezes my nipples at the same time, causing me to shudder. My pussy throbbing, my wetness embarrassingly flooding the bed, I feel my pussy hole expand.

“Now,” he whispers, as he grabs his fully erect cock and guides it to my slit.

“Yes! Fuck me!” I sing out as he crawls into position. He pushes into me again and this time, the pain is gone. It still tingles, still feels a bit irritating to the skin, but this time I can take him. I’m so wet and widened, fully excited, that I easily accommodate his full girth.

I muffle my load groan as he pushes more inches inside of what he probably knows is the tightest cunt he’s ever been in before. He begins slowly increasing the strokes. He’s not completely inside but damn well getting there. He’s so deep, so throbbing—god, I can feel his pulse through his rock-hard erection, I can literally feel his blood rushing as he thrusts into me so tenderly.

“Yeah…ohh yeah, that feels good…”

“I’m going to go faster now,” he warns me softly. “If it hurts, you tell me.”

“It won’t hurt…I want to feel you…hard…deep…”

I cry out as I stare into his gazing eyes. He thrusts into me with his hard cock, finally getting a rhythm going that I can take. Each stroke in feels long and teasing, stimulating my whole body. When he pulls out my pussy contracts, wanting more, begging for him to come back.

He penetrates me again, this time taking my wrists with his hands and holding them above my head.

“Yes! Ffffuck…fffffuck me!” I grunt, losing myself in the moment. I forget who I am and how ladylike I should act, when in the throes of impending orgasm. The new feeling of a big, giant dick filling my pussy up leaves my mind in a fog. I am only pure emotion, pure energy, desiring release. The release of this built-up tension. I begin panting as I feel my first vaginal orgasm coming on. The nerve endings near the front are over-stimulated from his huge cock head as well as his balls smacking against my swollen lips.

My whole body starts to shake back and forth and I feel the orgasm being wrenched out of me. He senses my resistance and starts hard-pounding me at an even faster pace. I spread my legs farther apart so he can fill my cunt up with even more manhood.

“YES! Fuck me! Fuck me, please!”

My tightening pussy lips are too much for him! He sits up and breaks the pose…but his cock is so huge he’s still deep inside of me, even when he pulls out halfway.

“Ohhhhh!” I say with a smile. “Uh-uh. You’re not going to stop now. Keep fucking me. I don’t care where you come.”

He blinks at me and inhales, right before hard-fucking me a second time, this time seated on his knees. The position allows him to free his hands and so he takes vicious advantage of this—grabbing my tits and holding on tight while he fucks me hard again.

“Aaah-aaah!” I scream, out-powered by his hard thrusting. “Yes! Don’t stop!”

He grabs my nipples with his fingers and squeezes down, matching the tempo of his thrusts.

“Yes! Squeeze my tits! Keep going!”

He’s thrusting hard, slowly…erratically. I eye him wickedly, realizing my stallion of a man is having a hard time keeping up his thrusting in a pussy this tight and virginal. Just as I realize he’s resisting a big drop, I decide to make it even more difficult for him. I start caressing his body with my silky wet fingers—his abs, his belly button, and that sensitive little spot just underneath his belly where he’s so soft.

I smile at him and enjoy trying to break his concentration. I hold my breasts together and start bouncing harder, matching his thrusts.

“Ohhh God,” he grunts, staring down at me with wild eyes. “I can’t resist you. You’re so beautiful…so…”

“Uh huh?” I say, putting my hands over my head just so he can enjoy another view of my jiggling breasts.

“I can’t…”

He shakes his head in frustration and starts thrusting shallow, faster strokes instead of going deep. The feeling is intense and makes me holler in spine-tingling surrender.

“YES! YES! Ohhhh, you’re making me cum!” I scream out, feeling my pelvis shaking and my body writhe in every direction at the same time.

“Let it out, let it out…” he says, thinking he’s dirty-talking me, when in fact he’s only making it harder on himself! He’s trying so hard to “stay hard”, he’s just barely a few wet strokes away from a monstrous spurt himself.

“Ohhhhhh!” I scream looking deep into his eyes and letting him know I’m creaming his cock with all the juice I have left.

The deluge is too much for him to take. I feel his shaft tighten and begin to spasm. It’s all he has left in him to pull out of me, cock in hand, and to aim it at the first acceptable cum location he can reach. He stares at my spasming body and shoves his prick head to my belly button.

“Ohhh fuck!” I scream, cumming hard right as I see him baste me with his sperm. “Ohhh, let me see! Let me see!”

I make myself look—I want to see his semen drench my belly. I watch him spurt just as I finish orgasming, the excitement of his cumshot eliciting ever louder screams and bed-rocking.

I chant mindlessly, thoroughly fucked and recovering from orgasm. I rub his semen all over my belly, scandalized at the filth, mesmerized by how earthy real romantic sex can be.

I stare at his cum as it drips down my belly. I also take pleasure in watching his massive manhood go soft and decrease in size to something closer to normal. His penis is so beautiful. It glistens from all my wetness.

He exhales hard, deliberately, staring straight into my bed sheet.

I laugh…but he only half-smiles back.

“What’s wrong?”

“I came too soon,” he says, a little proudly, a little wounded. “You were just so…”

“What?”

“So tight…amazingly good. The best I’ve ever felt.”

“And you couldn’t hold out?”

“Give me just a few minutes. I’ll be twice as hard for twice as long,” he says in warning. “You just caught me off guard.”

“You came at just the right time!” I reply. “I don’t want you to make me orgasm for an hour straight! I need to take a break some.”

“Come here,” he says, wrapping me up in his arms and lying with me on the bed. “This is your punishment for being so good,” he says as he runs his fingers through my hair.

I smile and then kiss his lips.

“What did it feel like?” he says.

“Really good…tight, intense…really easy-going the second penetration. Just a little sore. But in a good way.”

“You were spectacular,” he says, still fawning over my after-sex face, the love hormones all around, swishing through our bodies.

“You’re much more…romantic than I thought you would be,” I admit.

“Why wouldn’t I be? Did you think I sacrifice the blood of virgins or something?”

“I don’t know,” I say with a giggle. “You’re just really sweet, so gentle and affectionate with your lips, your hands, your eyes…I just didn’t expect it. I thought you’d be more…”

“What?”

“I don’t know. Just something less than you were. You never cease to amaze me, Mister Troy.”

“You never cease to amaze me,” he corrects me, giving me another dreamy kiss.

“I guess I always figured sex was dirty, you know?”

“Why so?”

“I don’t know. Guilt…or maybe just the fact that it’s really fun to lose control and just swear and scream. I never understood why people thought sex would be so…romantic. What’s so romantic about banging each other and screaming for mercy?”

“Sex isn’t romantic,” he says, touching my face and demanding my attention. “Sex is biological. It’s instinctive. But making love is romantic. Because it’s about the bond that exists between lovers. The slow moments, the confessions…the afterglow and the conversation…”

He caresses my naked breasts, enjoying the sensation of my bare nipple in between his fingers. “The way the man describes the aesthetic beauty of your nude body. Like a statue, like a perfect painting of womanhood. Every inch of you is a work of art. Every sigh you make upon my neck is a musical score. And of course, the romantic feeling that comes when he caresses your face and kisses you…”

He kisses me and holds his gaze.

“Letting you know this was a memory you’ll never forget. This was something real.”

He kisses me again and cracks a smile. “See? It’s all about the interpretation. Romance is alive and well wherever you find it.”

I smile back at him and notice his cock is hard for round two. That was quick!

“Wow. Already feeling more romantic, I see.”

“What can I say? You do amazing things to my body.”

“But now I’m feeling shy,” I say with a blush across my face. “We’re both just naked and…”

“I’ll show you what to do.”

“Okay…”

“Get up and sit on top of me.”

I grin as he gets into position and sits up, eagerly awaiting me to straddle him.

“Okay…how do I do this?”

“Sit with your knees spread across my lap. But as you lean forward and lower yourself down, guide yourself on carefully…”

“Okay…”

“Tell me how it feels,” he says as I feel his cock enter me a second time, this time from a brand new angle and subtle new sensation.

“Ohhh I like that,” I say, shutting my eyes and concentrating on the feeling of getting filled up, with no inches to breathe. “You’re so big…”

“Doesn’t that feel good?” he asks, putting his hands on my hips. His strong hands help me to balance as I slowly ride him back and forth.

“Yes…” I whisper, loving the sensation of his penis slipping in and out, growing harder and thicker even while I feel it penetrating me deeper. “Yes…it feels really good.”

“Now when you’re ready, ride just a little bit faster. Lift your whole pelvis and then bear back down, straddling instead of rocking. Don’t worry about breaking my dick…rarely ever happens.” He sends me a naughty grin.

“Okay…” I say, riding his cock harder, feeling the deep push of his bulging head running against my upper wall. The vibrations let me indirectly stimulate my G-spot, giving me an all new contracting sensation. “Oh yeah…I feel it…”

My smile turns into a frown as I feel a powerful wave of orgasm come over my lower half. “Ohhh, here it comes…”

“Keep going, keep the rhythm up,” he says, as he lowers his hand.

“Oooohhh…” I moan, completely immersed in the experience of my G-spot slowly, achingly, starting to swell. Just as I start to take back control…he plays my body like an orchestra conductor, taking his finger to my exposed clit and rubbing it in sync with my movements.

“Ohhh wow…oh, that feels so good!”

“Keep riding that cock. Use your pelvis, rotate it. Put your leg muscles into it.”

“Shut up,” I say with a laugh. “This is…oh my god…this is too much.”

“You can do it. I’m holding you. It’ll be okay.”

He continues fingering my clit while I ride him harder. Even the way he rests his palm on my pubic bone, right along the extra-sensitive area of my pussy hair.

I groan like an animal as he begins slowly pushing me forward, forcing our bodies to gyrate together in opposite directions, creating a strong push and pull sensation that goes in sync with the way my pussy is pushing out. It’s a strange coincidence of perfectly timed patterns…and it’s making me fly around like a rag doll.

“YES! Oh God, Zander…yes...yes! Let’s come together.”

“No. This time it’s all for you.”

He steadies himself and relaxes his muscle. He breathes in deeply and lets it out, releasing all the tension. My breathing is only escalating. Within seconds of my G-spot being tickled into spasming orgasming, I’m panting and grabbing my neck for comfort. The shooting orgasmic pangs are almost too intense. I can feel my pussy engorging, gushing all over his cock, and just a few strokes away from another climax.

Just as I start spiraling out of control, he takes his free hand off my already painfully throbbing clit and puts it on my breast—right against my heart. The feeling of connection intensifies as I feel the energy pass from my spinning head to my thumping heart, to my pussy and even down to my curling toes. In the throes of orgasm, I grab his hair and yank him forwards, shoving his face between my tits and filling his mouth with my hard nipples.

“Ohhh, I’m cumming again!”

“Cum!” he says loudly, “Cum!” – programming me to be an obedient little fuck slave and why would I resist? I look up at the ceiling and pound his face against my breasts, holding on for dear life as an even more intense full-body orgasm ignites my soul and destroys all my senses.

In between screams and moments of pulling his hair, I try my damndest to break him. To ride his cock harder and make him cum with me.

But he won’t. He’s rock solid, this time, holding it in and controlling his breathing and posture perfectly.

I unleash a terrifying scream and then fall back to my side of the bed, my juices still dripping all over his cock and his legs.

I take a deep breath in, but I push out air rapidly through my aching lungs. Bright, heavenly lights seem to appear out of nowhere and make the whole room glow with pleasure. I start giggling and spacing out, my brain now officially jelly from all those wonderful, trippy love drugs.

I can barely breathe…but it’s all I have left in me to crawl on top of my sexy date and grab his still rock hard cock, now smothered in my wetness. Our bodies are sweating, our heads are damp with mad passion. But I have to use all the fight left in me to give him one last handjob to remember. To summon up that angry, rebellious and poisonous sperm and to shoot it all over the fucking bed like he’s my own personal fountain.

I yank his slippery cock hard and get him almost there…frantic by now and downright obsessed with breaking his balls of steel I start sucking the head of his enormous dick while stroking him as fast as I can. I can’t believe I’m tasting myself. Sucking in the same naturalness I just sprayed him with. God, the dirty things he makes me do…the vile things I want to do, just being in his presence.

He finally succumbs to me when I start rubbing his balls with my other hand. Finally, FINALLY, my monstrous lover tenses his whole body and cums in fury, shooting his seed into the air and all over my already soaked hair.

We both laugh as we collapse back onto the bed. More dirty deeds done and no doubt a lot more to go before the night’s over. This is the messy part, the greedy, selfish, erotic fuckfest that every naughty virgin girl dreams about growing up.

But all the sweet romantic stuff, like when he’s going to hold me in the shower and whisper sweet nothings into my ear while the sprinkling water cleanses us…or when he’s going to hold my nude body in his harms and caress me to sleep tucked into the sexy pillow of his rising and falling chest…something tells me there’s going to be a lot of that too.

Mister Troy, the bad boy, the sweet gentleman…the man of a million surprises.