The Last Cold Night

Chapter 1: The Last Cold Night

Rebecca lay on her back in the dark bedroom. Her husband Johnson moved on top of her with quick grunts. His body felt heavy and selfish. She tried to feel something. Anything. But there was only the usual emptiness. He pushed into her hard and fast. No kisses. No touches that made her wet or excited. Just rough thrusts that left her sore and dry.

"Come on, move with me," he muttered. His breath smelled of whiskey. "Stop acting like a dead fish."

She tried to shift her hips. She wanted to please him. She always did. But her body would not respond. Three years of marriage and she still felt nothing. She was a virgin on their wedding night. She knew nothing about sex then. Johnson never taught her. He only complained.

"Fuck, you are so stiff," he said. He closed his eyes and thrust faster. "Rebecca? No. Sarah. Yes, like that, Sarah."

The name hit her like a slap. Sarah. One of the women from his office. He always called other names when he was close. Never hers. Tears burned in her eyes but she blinked them away. She lay still and waited for it to end.

Johnson groaned loudly. His body shook once, twice. Then he pulled out and rolled off her. He did not hold her. He did not ask if she was okay. He just reached for his phone on the nightstand.

Rebecca pulled the sheet over her naked body. Her skin felt cold. Her heart felt heavy. "Johnson," she said softly. "Why do you always say other names?"

He laughed without looking at her. "Because you do not do it for me, Rebecca. You are boring in bed. If you moved more or got wet like a real woman, maybe I would say your name."

The words cut deep. She had heard them many times before. But tonight they hurt more. "I want to make you happy. Tell me what to do. I can learn."

He sat up and pulled on his boxers. "Learn? You had three years. A real wife would know how to fuck. I am tired of this."

He stood and walked to the bathroom. The door closed hard. Rebecca stayed in bed. She stared at the ceiling. Pain filled her chest. She loved him once. Or she thought she did. Now she felt trapped. Worthless.

The shower ran for a long time. When Johnson came back, he smelled of soap. He threw some clothes into a suitcase on the chair.

"I am leaving tomorrow morning," he said. "Business trip for thirty days. Big deal in another city."

Rebecca sat up. She held the sheet to her chest. "Thirty days? That is long. I will miss you."

He zipped the suitcase. His face looked cold. "Do not miss me too much. When I come back, I am filing for divorce."

The room spun. Rebecca could not breathe. "Divorce? What are you saying?"

"You heard me." He turned to face her. "I cannot stay with a stiff woman like you. Sex is boring. I need excitement. A woman who knows how to ride me and scream my name. Not someone who just lies there."

"But I can change," she said. Her voice shook. "Give me a chance. I will do better."

Johnson laughed again. "Too late. I already found someone who is good in bed. Do not wait up for me tomorrow. I leave early."

He climbed into bed and turned his back to her. Soon he was snoring. Rebecca could not sleep. She cried quietly into her pillow. The pain was sharp. Three years of trying. Three years of blame. Now this.

Morning came too fast. Johnson left without a kiss. He did not even say goodbye properly. Rebecca stood at the window and watched his car drive away. The house felt empty. She felt empty.

She made coffee but could not drink it. Instead she sat at the kitchen table with her laptop. Her hands shook as she typed. "How to become good at sex." "Sex lessons for wives." "Fix bad sex in marriage."

Many links came up. Some were videos. Some were books. But one caught her eye. It was an ad for the Institute of Sensual Arts. "Private 30-day program. Unlock your pleasure. Professional trainers. Discreet."

Rebecca clicked on it. The website looked clean and expensive. It promised results. Real transformation. Women who went there learned to enjoy their bodies. They learned to drive their partners wild.

"This could work," she whispered. "I can become the wife he wants. Then he will stay."

She filled out the form fast. She wrote about her situation without too many details. She paid the high f*e with her savings. A message popped up. "Welcome, Rebecca. Your trainer will contact you today. The session starts tomorrow."

Hope rose in her chest for the first time in months. She would learn everything. Touching. Kissing. Dirty talk. Positions. She would make Johnson regret his words.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. She cleaned the house. She tried to eat but the food tasted like paper. At night she lay in bed alone. Her body still ached from last night. But now she had a plan.

She touched herself under the sheets. Her fingers moved between her legs. Nothing happened. No spark. No wetness. Just the same old nothing. Tears came again.

"Tomorrow," she told herself. "Everything changes tomorrow."

The next morning her phone rang. The voice on the other end was deep and smooth.

"Rebecca Carter? This is Liam Jakes. I will be your personal trainer at the Institute. Can you come in at ten?"

Her heart beat fast. "Yes. I will be there."

"Good. Wear something comfortable. We have a lot of work to do in thirty days."

She hung up and dressed quickly. A simple dress and flats. She drove to the address in the city. The building looked normal from outside. Tall glass windows. No big signs. Inside it felt warm and private.

A woman at the front desk smiled. "Rebecca? Liam is waiting in room three."

Rebecca walked down the quiet hall. Her hands were sweaty. She knocked on the door.

"Come in."

She stepped inside. The room was soft and inviting. Big couch. Dim lights. Mats on the floor. And there stood Liam Jakes.

He was tall. Broad shoulders. Dark hair and sharp eyes. His shirt hugged his chest. He looked strong but calm. Professional.

"Rebecca," he said with a small smile. "I am glad you came. Please sit."

She sat on the couch. Her legs felt weak. Liam took a chair across from her. Not too close.

"Tell me why you are here," he said gently.

She took a deep breath. "My husband is leaving me because I am bad in bed. I know nothing about sex. He says I am stiff and boring. I want to learn how to be good. Really good. So he will take me back when he returns."

Liam listened without judgment. His eyes were kind but intense. "I understand. Many women come here with similar stories. Our program is strict. Thirty days. We start with no touching. Only lessons on your body. Your mind. Breathing. Sensuality. Then we build from there."

"No touching?" she asked.

"At first. Yes. I am trained to control myself. You will learn to feel pleasure on your own terms."

Rebecca nodded. But already she noticed how his voice made her stomach flutter. How his hands looked strong and sure. She pushed the thought away. This was for Johnson. Only for Johnson.

"Today we begin with basic awareness," Liam said. He handed her a notebook. "Write what you feel when you think about sex. No shame. Be honest."

She wrote slowly. The room felt warm. Liam watched her with quiet focus. Tension hung in the air. Something unspoken. Something new.

Hours passed with questions and exercises. Breathing deep. Touching her own arms and neck to wake up her senses. Liam explained everything in a calm voice. But his eyes sometimes lingered. Rebecca felt her skin heat up.

By the end of the session she was tired but excited. "Thank you," she said. "I think this will help."

Liam stood. "Tomorrow we will go deeper. Rest tonight. And Rebecca? You are not broken. You just need the right guidance."

She left the institute with new hope. But as she drove home, her mind kept returning to Liam. His smell. His voice. The way he looked at her.

No. She shook her head. This was training. Nothing more.

That night she tried the breathing exercises alone. She touched her breasts lightly like Liam suggested. A small spark came. Not much. But something. For the first time she imagined a man who took his time. A man who made her wet. And a man who makes her think.

She fell asleep with a small smile. Thirty days. She had thirty days to become the perfect fucker.

The next sessions would test her. She did not know it yet. But her whole world was about to change.