5 A Gentle Bit of Sadness

I woke up very early, after only a couple of hours of sleep. But that was enough to recharge my body a little after yesterday’s… race. It’s hard to call everything that happened last night just a “first time.” I didn’t expect such madness from myself, or from my first experience, that completely overwhelmed me and knocked sense clean out of my head.

My body felt unbearably hot, wrapped in enormous, strong arms and long, warm legs. Like a helpless insect in a bloodthirsty spider’s cocoon, I was pressed beneath his powerful body, entwined in his limbs.

I reached my phone in the bag on the nightstand and saw it was just past six. Time to go before the rake wakes up.

Quietly, I slipped out of the man’s embrace, though, to be honest, I could have stayed there a little longer. It was so cozy, warm, and… womanly, as if this was my own man, not one of public use. But those thoughts had to go. I needed to leave the room quickly before I could meet the eyes of that perfectly groomed stallion. After everything he’d done to me, and how I’d happily responded, I would literally combust from shame if I stayed.

Thankfully, I had the foresight to grab some comfortable clothes and shoes. Mission accomplished, no need to show off anymore, so I pulled a gray oversized tracksuit and white sneakers from my bag.

Around the bed, I saw scattered used condoms, and my cheeks flushed bright red. Oh my god… how many were there? Four in sight, but I wasn’t about to check the other side of the bed.

Standing in place, I felt a dull ache low in my belly, like sore muscles after a workout. No wonder — my muscles had never been worked like that before, and now they were well exercised and thoroughly pushed. Embarrassingly, I realized I’d happily do it again…

No, stop these sweet thoughts! I didn’t come here to spend all my savings on easily accessible boys.

Quickly changing into my tracksuit and sneakers, I packed my scandalous outfit from last night back into my bag. I tied my hair into a high ponytail through the cap, and glanced once more at the sleeping sexual deity beside me. He lay on his stomach, the sheet outlining his strong, appetizing ass. I had an irresistible urge to spank him, whispering, “Good little slut!” But I resisted, just biting my lower lip and staring.

He’s perfect, no argument there. And he looks so different when he sleeps… almost… familiar. His hair was messy in a sexy way, and his face relaxed and peaceful. My mind immediately went back to his piercing green eyes, watching my every reaction last night with such intensity.

I exhaled deeply. How is it even possible to be this attractive in the morning, so early?

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, shaking off unnecessary thoughts, and reached into my bag for the money. The work had been done thoroughly—more than thoroughly—and now deserved fair compensation. Good thing I brought extra, more than the stated amount.

I counted the crisp bills, adding a little extra for overtime and a “tip.” Yesterday’s performance definitely wasn’t a “compliment from the chef,” so I’d pay in full. Leaving the money on the nightstand with a small note that read simply, “Thanks for the night.”

Well, why not? I truly was grateful. Deep down, a silly little hope flickered that maybe he would remember me among hundreds of other clients and occasionally think of me with a smile. Not everyone dares to give their virginity to a stranger.

I quietly slipped out of the room, closing the door almost silently behind me. Let the brute sleep. The man had really worked all night, without rest.

On the way home, I decided to walk, to clear my head and stretch my sore body. I couldn’t wait for a shower, to wash off the stickiness and tension, especially around my thighs. It felt like a steamroller had passed over me—but no complaints here.

Outside the hotel, I noticed a sleek black sports BMW parked nearby. Some people really live large. Probably some local rich kids entertaining themselves today too, hiring one prostitute after another. And I felt this inexplicable pride—because I wasn’t on the side that gets paid for sex, I was on the side that paid for it, choosing the one I liked. Somehow, I felt a little superiority over these guys. Like, “Hey boys, I didn’t get chosen by him—I chose him! I can afford it! I’m strong and independent!”

But no matter how much I indulged in self-congratulatory thoughts, there was a certain sadness. Not about losing my virginity—that, I had no regrets about. It was just that Nazar—or Kirill, whatever his name was—refused to leave my mind. Every scene replayed vividly, and his sleeping face lingered before my eyes. Maybe it was because he was my first, and I was still riding the emotional high of those unforgettable events, still caught in euphoria.

But damn… where do you even find a male like that for real life?

I wondered if he had a girlfriend—or maybe even a wife. Why not? It wasn’t absurd. Many adult actors are married and accept their spouses’ work. I couldn’t do that myself… just the thought of him being with someone else…

Exactly. I definitely didn’t need to fall for this bastard. And I knew absolutely nothing about him… except his size and his skills. Besides, sex isn’t a reason to start a relationship.

Lost in my thoughts, talking to myself in my usual way, I suddenly heard the roar of tires. I barely had time to turn my head before that sleek black BMW sped past me, exhaust roaring, disappearing around the nearest corner. Clearly, the rich kids’ little party was over… maybe they overslept somewhere…