⚠️ Warning: ⚠️
This chapter includes sexual content. Reader discretion is highly advised.

UNUSUAL VOCAB
Ja – 'Yes' in Afrikaans
Bien sûr, ma petite poupée. – 'Of course, my small doll' in French; it's an affectionate expression.

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⌞M I N D E L Y N⌝
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⌞♥⌝ Chester Nel was a phenomenal kisser, and to think he was willing to waste this God-given talent should be illegal.

Being a whorish teen back in the day, I had several hookups and plenty of lip action, but, hands down, he was sitting at the top! That impressive skill, his alluring labyrinthine personality, top-tier physique, godly visuals, and those fucken magical hands of his turned me on so much that I moaned into his mouth.

That made him chuckle in mine for a moment before pulling away. His face was bright red, and his eyes had dilated so much that I could see myself in them. Panting slightly, he licked his lips, then said, "Come on, Minnie. That was cute, but I'm sure I make you louder than that."

"Minnie?" My heart skipped a beat as I also tried to catch my breath. My blush intensified as I asked him, "Like the Disney rat? Is that your little nickname for me?"

"First and foremost, she's a cute mouse, and secondly, you're rather vertically challenged, so..." He planted a small kiss on my lips. "Ja. You don't like it?"

"No, it's not like I dislike it. It's just that no one's called me that before," I admitted, pecking back.

"If that's the case, it's officially trademarked for my usage only."

That made me laugh. "And what if I start asking everyone to call me that too?"

"Then I'll just have to punish you," he whispered in my ear before taking a playful nip at my earlobe.

His sexy voice was like fine wine. It got smoother with age and gave me goosebumps. Our conversation ended when he resumed feeling me up and kissing me.

"Ah. Wait. Wait!" I groaned with each word between each of his delicious kisses.

Before he got too far as we explored each other's mouths, I lightly pushed his torso away from me a little to allow enough room for me to unbuckle his belt. Once I had accomplished that, I unzipped his pants and let his hungry beast out of its cage.

His underwear was still barricading it enough that it wasn't aimed at my face, but at least it could breathe much better. On top of that, I knew it would feel glorious pushing against my lace panties and rubbing my pussy's lips, all while pressing my very sensitive love button. However, before my hands left his pelvic region, I dipped them through his briefs and grabbed his golf balls. Squeezing them tenderly, I hit a hole-in-one when he started shivering and groaned, "Fok!"

Seeing him tremble from pleasure for a change made me proud and happy. He tried to suppress his expressions to be more neutral but struggled to keep a straight face. It was the cutest thing.

"You're not the only one with magical hands," I hissed playfully. Before slipping my hands out and clipping them on his waist, I rubbed his long shaft and squished its throbbing dome. I thought it would be rude if I hadn't formally greeted his little friend before he rocked my world.

We simultaneously pulled each other into a suffocating hug and passionately made out. We were already on each other, but I wanted him closer. So, I slid my arms under his armpits and allowed my hands to hook onto his broad shoulders as we ardently ground against each other. Personal space didn't exist between us at this moment, and I loved it more than anything else. All this and the intense make-out session had me whimpering like a puppy and my pussy thumping for more.

"Babe, if you're ready, I'm ready to take your order," he teased, referring to my 'menu' comment.

Screw the sample and the menu! I want the whole damn restaurant!

Since he never shut up, he continued in a husky voice, "Someone's as wet as a swamp down there. You're that thirsty, huh?"

"Says the one who's as hard as a rock," I retorted, earning a quick smooch and an equally delightful and sexy chuckle from him.

His laughter — slight or on full blast — was an orgasmic melody to my ears. Our foreheads touched as we both decided to take a moment to catch our breath.

Being more in shape, he recovered faster and hummed, "Touché, ma chérie."

My brow rose. "Jesus, you can speak French too?"

"Bien sûr, ma petite poupée. Oh, I can do many things," said my gorgeous man of the night. The tips of our warm noses kissed as we got lost in each other's eyes for a bit.

"Mindelyn, I have something important to address before we continue," he announced, not breaking eye contact.

"Why do you look so serious?" I shrugged, nuzzling him a little. That doesn't do anything. If at all, it made him more serious. A hefty block of uneasiness settled in my gut. "Chess, what is it? Is it about that text from earlier?

"No," he seemed surprised before shaking his head with a slight scowl. "It's not that."

"Okay. Then what is it?"

I was scared. I didn't want this to end. We were too close to stop.

Amid my panic, I spotted a shiny pink smudge on his cheek. I recognized it as my lip gloss and wiped it off gently using my thumb. It shocked me when he pecked at it, then, with the sigh mingling with his words, exclaimed softly, "Woman, why are you like this?"

"Like what?" I asked, hoping my voice sounded steadier than I felt inside.

"Perfect," murmured Chess. His tone softened like butter spread on freshly baked bread.

Each syllable dripped with such sweetness that my heart almost caught diabetes. As my face turned into a furnace, I retracted my finger and quipped, "You are so cheesy at the worst times that I wish I were lactose intolerant just to teach you a lesson."

Instead of laughing, he gave me a questioning look, deep in thought. And I had no clue of what. All I knew was, unlike the message he received in the car, I was part of it. The only thing I could do was hope that it was in a positive light.

"Thinking about the meaning of life or just trying to remember where you put your keys?" I joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Mindelyn, from hookups to board meetings, I hardly give a fuck about the other person in the room," he stated matter-of-factly, startling me with how detached and stern he sounded. However, his cold and harsh tone melted away in an instant, giving way to the buttery tenderness from before when he continued, "However, as the night progresses, I want you to always be open with me, from how you feel, what your preferences are and — most importantly — what you desire."

Dumbfounded, I felt nothing at first. I was as good as a black hole, sucking everything in without knowing where anything would end up. However, as my mind finally absorbed Chess's words, voice, and mannerisms, I fell into the rapturous Garden of Eden.

Like Johan, he was one of the forbidden fruits from the Tree of Good and Evil, while Blake — I still love the guy — was the serpent of temptation. However, unlike his friend, the man in front of me had unlocked a part of me that would demolish my sanity if things went sour.

Should I stop then, resist the fruit, and spare myself from hurt? Or should I feast on the whole thing and wait for the cruel consequences, hailing from God's wrath?

This infuriatingly egotistical and surprisingly sweet stud had given me a once-in-a-lifetime ticket to free unconditional sex, but, like all things in life, there was an expiration date. He was the hottest person I'd gone on a date with, besides Mr. Pretorius — if you even consider that a date.

Clouded by raging hormones and crazy high dopamine levels, this was the worst time to think about whether I wanted to be intimate with this man or not, and I was racking my brain over it. This may have appeared to be an overreaction and overthinking on my part. However, I was starting to feel similar emotions — though not nearly as strong — toward him as I had for Ray, and, God forbid, I went down that rabbit hole again.

"O-okay," I stammered, unsure of what else to say. Though shaky, my short answer appeared to suffice him.

"Good. Now, what's your first wish?" inquired the beautiful specimen of a human with his hot breath caressing my lips.

As a hardcore K-pop fan, the first song that came to me was Genie by a girl band called Girls' Generation. That made me giggle like an idiot because I pictured him singing and dancing for me.

It was a good thing I was quick to compose myself before commenting, "So, you're a genie now, huh?"

"Well, yes, especially since you rubbed my lamp the right way," he said with a coy smirk while going in for another round of lip-to-lip action.

Ignoring the war in my head, I indulged in his company for a bit. I loved kissing him so much that -- if I am being transparent here -- I could do it forever if he wanted me to. That act with the intense dry humping was the cherry on top.

Before things got too hot for logic, I brought my hands back to his chest and allowed my fingers to venture down his white shirt, unbuttoning it at the speed of light. As tempting as it was, I was conscious not to rip the damn piece of clothing off, especially knowing it probably cost more than any paycheck I'd receive in my lifetime.

Revealing his moderately hairy chest was like opening an unusually shaped Christmas present; I could guess what it was, but there was always an element of surprise. As expected, after hugging him for so long, every muscle of his was well-defined and toned. His athletic physique wasn't near that of a bodybuilder and was far from that of a stickman; it was like that of an Olympian swimmer. I had struck gold.

A good fraction of women would probably gush over his stone-hard abs, but his pecs had all my attention. Behind the wisps of raven hair was a constellation of little sepia freckles. It reminded me of a starry night, and, like a toddler who had just received a new toy, I started playing dot-to-dot with him as my canvas.

As my fingers traced his bare chest, he grabbed my attention, asking, "Like what you see? Because it's all yours for the rest of the evening."

"Mhm, I love it." I nodded, blushing, before he returned to kissing the life out of me.

As our groins rubbed against each other, the small party in my basement had turned into a full-blown water festival, and I was more than ready for his water gun to join in on the fun.

"Ah – shit! Chess!" My body was trembling from the stimulation. I drew my head back while he began sucking on my neck and admitted in a breathy groan, "Dear God, I can't wait to feel you inside of me."

"Your wish is my command," he said, pecking me on my bottom lip and then instructing me to hold on. So I did, and he lifted and carried me to the long, marbled counter with the sinks and my skincare stuff. After he sat me on it, he gently peeled me off of him and then began undressing himself.

He would sneak in a smile every few seconds, and I would return the gesture while silently watching him in awe. His toned muscular legs, his thick beefy thighs, and those gorgeously sculpted arms were so erotically enthralling that I wanted to lick every part of him. On an ego high, he was fully aware I was watching him intently as he took his time slipping off his briefs to showcase his cute, juicy, and round ass and his bubblegum-pink, lengthy, thick cock. He turned me on even more when he folded his clothes into a neat pile and put them on a nearby wooden stool.

Oh God, I'm in heaven. A man who folds clothes? Yes, sir! Sign me up!

Biting my thumb's French tip, I brought my legs to my chest and slipped my free hand into my G-string to play with myself for a bit while my eyes feasted on this deliciously naked hunk strolling towards me. He stood tall, proud, and hungry as he placed himself between my legs. I slipped my wet, sticky fingers out of my thong and was about to wipe the gunk off on the towel next to me when he grabbed my wrist, brought my hand to his lips, and then sucked on my fingers.

That made me feel a million things at once and sexed me up in a way I didn't know was possible. It was like I was dreaming; I never wanted to wake up.

With a low, husky voice, he leaned in close, his arms resting on either side of me, and murmured, "Turn around for me, beautiful."

As instructed and choosing to be his obedient lady, I got on my knees, turned around, and faced the mirror to be startled by my reflection.

Despite being a black woman, my skin was sickly pale, an annoying byproduct of my mother's French roots. So, when I got flushed, the whole universe knew. Glowing honey-yellow under the overhead light, my face was fuchsia pink, and I had a few purple-red bruises around my collarbone. My eyes closed as I needed to meditate for a few seconds and recover from his electric touch.

But, of course, that didn't last long because when his steamy breath tickled my nape and prodded my eyes to snap open. He started licking and nibbling different parts of my neck. Using the fingers of one hand, he took his sweet time tracing down my spine as his other hand slowly unzipped my dress. His fingers were cold metal against my warm skin. I tensed in the beginning but eventually relaxed. It was like an icy shower after a long, hot day — shocking at first but soothing after a while.

Once the zip hit the metallic bottom, he unclipped my bra and then whispered, oh so, enticingly, "Lift your arms for me, sweetheart."

I didn't say anything and obliged, allowing him to cautiously and quickly slide off my bra and dress. He then folded them and put the materials alongside my golden jewelry set from Blake. Seeing that necklace got my mind thinking.

Where did Rhy go?

He promised he'd be around. I knew he needed to meet up with another social media influencer, but that was later during the week. The most likely situation was that Mr. Pretorius may have taken him out as he had done with me.

Before I pondered over my BFF's whereabouts too much, Chess encased me in a warm, loving embrace and gave me a little kiss on my nose. I found that so cute and innocent and returned his tender gesture with a peck on his cheek. Holding onto his arms, I examined myself again.

I was tiny in comparison to him. My thighs were fat as I kneeled on the counter, and my love handles made my hips wider than they were — and I already had massive hips. The only decent things were my full breasts, tiny waist, and flattish stomach. I say flattish because I hadn't been doing sit-ups for a few months and had started to grow a little late-night-snacker belly.

I know a girl can't have everything, but my generalized anxiety disorder and chronic depression often overfed my body dysmorphia to the point of self-explosion. Nevertheless, it would be nice to have at least enough confidence to truly love me one day because even my good traits weren't enough to stop me from obsessing about my insecurities. All this negative thinking made my body break into another tremble.

I felt nothing but guilt for Chess. There was no doubt I was an ugly mutt compared to any other girl he'd been with before. This service was charity work for him. Well, that was my deduction until he expressed his thoughts.

"Minnie, you're so cute and sexy," he announced with such heavy fondness before planting his lips on my shoulder and saying, "And you're all mine for the night. Or trip. It's really up to you."

My already large eyes widened in disbelief as they found his lustful ones in the reflection. I stated the obvious: "I thought you only did one-time hookups."

He shrugged. "I mean, we're technically meeting up on Saturday too, and, as your master for the day, let me be upfront with you. I don't plan on sleeping that night when a fine-ass woman has to obey my every command."

"Yeah, I figured that much," I said, blushing harder. "But you said you only do one-night stands..."

"Okay. Let's consider this a one-night standish, then."

His comment came with a raspy, deep grunt as he grabbed my breasts and fondled them. I loved the way his fingers pinched and twisted my brown nipples. It left me drunk on oxytocin. My girls sat comfortably in his massive hands as if they were crafted precisely for his embrace.

One of his hands strayed away and found itself massaging my inner thighs as he commanded, "Do me a favor and play with your lovely boobs for a little bit."

"Mhm," I nodded, releasing my grip on his arms to feel my burning chest.

As I did so, his hands each grabbed a thigh of mine and slowly yanked them apart. One stayed to massage my inner thigh while the other ventured south into my little heart-shaped bush. I thought he'd immediately go for my cherry, but instead, he parted his fingers and deeply rubbed down the sensitive area around it first.

Turned on to the max, I melted in his arms and let him know it: "Mr. Nel. I love your hands so much."

"Just you wait, I've got more ammunition than that, and one of them is locked and loaded," he said as his fingers began rubbing my clit into an overwhelming throb.

The powerful sensation made me roll my eyes back for a few seconds, and I started moaning like a little bitch. In the wise words of Cardi B, he played with my kitty like an electric guitar. Sometimes, he gently strummed my sugar bean for my softer moans, and other times he would hammer-on it to induce my persistent begging and screams of joy.

When he was strumming, I looked into his gorgeous eyes for a moment and kissed him ardently before breaking away and purring, "Baby, please bring out your big gun."

Chess stifled a laugh, and as we watched ourselves in the mirror, his rock-hard, warm shaft snuggled itself between my ass cheeks, and I gasped. Feeling it dig into my ass, I realized it was considerably larger and stiffer than I initially thought it was. He was a grower.

I had confidence that I had Chester Nel collared. Although he did bark, bite, and snarl my way at times this evening, he did show his loyalty to me, and that deserved a little treat in my book. So, as his little naughty girl of the night, I twerked a little and allowed my butt to strenuously slide up and down his junk like a stripper's pole.

As I watched from the mirror, his hungry eyes were fixed on my juicy butt, hypnotized by its libidinously erotic motion. I leaned forward, with breasts pressed on the counter and head rested on my chin, and bounced harder until I could hear the friction and feel the heat from it. His sword was steely, sharpened, and ready for battle, and beyond my pulsating little forest was its battlefield.

"Impressive. You've got some lekker moves," he husked with a velvety undertone. His eyes locked on my vibrating backside, a slow lick of his lips betraying his admiration.

He didn't even blink, and that made me feel so empowered that it hauled me out of my crippling self-doubt. Blushing like an idiot and not paying attention, I was stunned when he suddenly grabbed my waist, pulled me closer to him, and then asked smugly, "Now, are you ready for the private tour of heaven that I told you about, my lady?"

"Of course," I purred with immense gratitude and pure excitement.

It's happening! Soldiers, be ready! It's finally happening--

"Shit. Wait." He interjected, eyes wide and panicked like he had just realized he had left the oven on in a burning house.

"Huh? Why?" Shocked, I stopped moving with a frown. "What is it now?"

"Don't sound so disappointed. I need to grab a condom, but I've got some in my jacket pocket." His voice was solemn, yet playful, as he kneaded my ass. "And do you have lube? I don't want to hurt you too much."

"Um... Chess." My pause stretched out, reminiscent of a deer caught in headlights, as I grappled with how to broach the subject. It was a blend of lewd and disdainful -- a cocktail best served with a side of nerves. After a few quick rounds of an internal debate, I blurted out, "Can I have you... raw?" The words hung in the air, sounding far more audacious out loud than in my head.

"I'm sorry... What?"

"Can I have you raw? I mean, not like sushi, but... you know what I mean, right?"

Eyes wide, his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, but no words came out.so I seized the opportunity to pitch my idea.

"And I'm pretty squeaky clean down there. My STD test results are in my handbag if you don't believe me. Plus, I also brought a Plan B pill, so I should be okay if you don't pull out on time," or at all.

"Yoh!" The man blinked, rubbing his face, then blasted in full lecture mode, "Eh, Minnie! Don't go fucking around without protection here. South Africa is the HIV and AIDS capital."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I know. Mr. Wikipedia."

"So, you have this knowledge. Yet you don't want me wrapped up?" he reiterated at a slower pace, like a lagging Sim character.

"Mhm. I like my candy without the plastic," I quipped before continuing, "and keeping my sex life 100% environmentally friendly."

He sighed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Uh, this isn't a candy store..."

"And last time I checked, this isn't Judgement Day. Sheesh, it was just a request – no one said you'll die if you decline. So, spare me the scolding, cover it up, and let's get this show on the road," I retorted, trying to move the conversation along.

He shrugged, his expression turning serious. "Well, just so we are on the same page, I am the only one you can fuck without protection on this trip because I genuinely get checked every few weeks, unlike 94.7% of the general population."

It was like he shot me in the foot when he struck me with his sanctimony. I laughed out of disbelief before stating, "Wow. You're an unbelievably lewd hypocrite."

He lifted both his hands in mock surrender. "Look, I'm not the one who sleeps around without protection, and -- as your unofficial tourist guide -- I am obligated to warn you of the consequences."

"Chess?" I started, sitting upright and pressing my bare back against his warm, solid body.

Even with me on the counter and my back straight, he still surpassed me in the height department. His bare skin on mine was rousingly fiery, but I did my best to ignore how much it was exciting me by focusing on a nearby faucet.

Darker than a moonless night, his brow rose as he asked, "Yes, babe?"

With the way he enunciated 'babe' with that heart-stopping accent of his, he gave me the hots. The temptation was too strong for my restraint, so I angled my head so that I could make out with him for a bit. He got the message loud and clear and put his lips to mine.

We tasted each other briefly before I drew away and smacked his chest, exclaiming, "I'm too horny for your lectures right now," then scanned the counter for the damn lubricant. When I saw the translucent lime-green glass tube, I pointed at it and said, "Grab the Aloe Vera gel in the green bottle."

"Got it. Thanks, Minnie," he said, pecking my temple. The level of happiness he exuded reminded me of Layla's husband when he finally got his way with her.

I just sighed and got back onto my arms and knees. With my legs parted a little for a lower center of gravity, I quickly learned from past hookups that it was the best position for deeper penetration for me, especially in cases where the peg pal of the day and his lackluster plug didn't stimulate me at all. The bonus was that I would have better access to play with myself. It was a lazy Doggy-style pose with less strain on my arms. Nonetheless, let me not bore you with my elaborative treatise on sex positions for lazy bitches like me.

Having rubbed the gel on both his hands, the man massaged his dick with it and got back into position. With a quick slap to my ass, which made me gasp aloud, then quietly giggle to myself, he proceeded to tease me with his cock by pushing down on my bean and sliding between my kitty's lips. At first, I just took it like a champ and challenged myself to stay quiet. He quickly caught on to that, looking at how pink my face was through the mirror and all while feeling the intense pulsation of my pearl.

Just as I was about to give up, surrender to his raunchy rubbing, and feed his ego, he used a few of his long, thick fingers and stuffed them in another area of my body where the sun did not shine.

I winced with a long, sudden whine. I was overwhelmed by the hot throbbing sensation coursing through my body. Like any skilled craftsman dealing with a delicate piece, he thrust in and out of my ass at a relatively high speed and fervently rubbed my pussy.

I begged him, "Dammit, please just go in already! I'll be a good girl."

"Hmm. Let me correct you there: you'll be my good girl. Ja? Yes?" His words came out cocky, low, and suggestive but with a hint of something else I couldn't discern.

Why is he so hung up on me being his? Why does he care what I do? Or the risks I take?

None of them should concern him. With his borderline narcissistic traits and his headstrong and stubborn nature, empathy was the last thing on his mind. I had no idea where his mind was, which filled me with more irritation than puzzlement.

So, why the fretful lecturing and his willingness to push his boundaries, like the kissing thing earlier? It's a one-night thing, so what's there to gain?

It was at that moment that I realized something crucial: I had no idea why this man had agreed to the date.

Yeah, the profile on the app had said a quick fuck without strings attached. However, he didn't explicitly tell me anything himself. He was so determined to prod me for mine that it went over my head to ask him about his. However, I was in an awkward position — quite literally — and we were about to connect in a way that could either lead to simply nothing at all, something miraculously good, or something mistakenly tragic.

Am I willing to take the chance?

I wasn't as risk-taking as Blake, so when would I ever have such an opportunity again? Plus, if things fall through with Chess, God gave me a second chance with his friend, and he finds me interesting. Well, he was the only one who vocalized it.

'But Chester seems to have taken a liking to you though...' my mental cheerleader whispered with a shake of her heart-shaped pom-poms. 'So how about we give him a chance to profess his true feelings? He treats you so well –'

'Yeah, because he is horny... did you forget he's a man?' My logical side reminded me and my inner sucker for love while adjusting her spectacles and flipping through her clipboard. 'Haven't we learned from Ray Dalton's lightning-fast mood shifts when he sniffs out an easy conquest? Or Blake's charming act at the bar when he's on the prowl for a quickie? This naive thinking is why you always end up nursing heartaches.'

As much as I wanted to turn a blind eye, my brain's secretary was right. Lust never meant anything. It was a deceptive parasite that always left its host hollow. A part of me felt crushed, realizing how harsh reality could be.

Of course, there was no place in this universe where a man as powerful and charming as Chester Nel would genuinely consider me as something more than a booty call. It just wouldn't make sense in the Laws of Humanity.

Shit, why do I overthink everything? I flew here to do the same, and yet ...

My heart felt heavy and told me to hold onto a fleck of chance that this was something more than what met the eye.

"Yes." My cheeks flushed as I dropped my head from being overcome by everything and murmured, "Yes, I'll be your girl."

Time stood still as I signed a deal with the devil. A hand grabbed my hair bun and pulled it back, forcing me to look at the reflection of the two of us. A villainous smirk spread across his face as he gently cupped my cheek, his hot breath tickling my forehead.

"I want to see your beautiful face as I state one rule," he said softly but with a subtle hint of threat. "Remember, from this moment until sunrise, all the men from before—Blake and especially Johan—do not exist. You will fuck me like I'm the only and last man in your universe, and I will do the same for you. No one else matters tonight."

He was the only viable remedy for my troubles, even for a moment. My body and part of me deep down yearned for him more than anything else. "Yes. Just do it already." I gave him my consent with a quick nod before whispering my final plea to the Lord, "Please muzzle this idiot so that he can hurry up and put it— AHH!"