But Jeffery only came home once a week, and even then, he lasted less than a minute.

Every time, he just rushed through it.

Not only did I feel no pleasure, but I also had to manage his feelings—pretending to be satisfied and faking moans—afraid that I might hurt his ego if I didn’t.

—

After popping open the car’s hood, the mechanic went inside to grab some tools.

With nothing to do, I noticed a white coolant tank next to the engine releasing steam, the pressure almost lifting the cap off.

Thinking it might help to cool it down, I walked over and lifted the small cap.

“Watch out!”

In that instant, a dark figure rushed over and pulled me to the ground.

A stream of boiling coolant burst out from the tank, gushing for almost a full minute before it finally subsided.

I was in shock from the sudden incident, and it wasn’t until the mechanic helped me up that I came to my senses.

To protect me, the scalding liquid had sprayed all over his arm.

Seeing his skin turning red and blistered, I choked back tears and apologized, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to… I just saw the steam coming out of the cap…”

But he seemed completely unfazed.

“It’s just a minor burn—no big deal.”

“But I’ll need your help putting on some ointment, okay, Missy?”

He flashed me a playful grin, his tone clearly teasing.

He looked like he was in his early twenties.

Given our age difference, his flirty tone made it clear he was teasing, but not in a disrespectful way.

I followed him up to the second floor.

The room that came into view was neat and well-organized, with a faint, fresh scent of soap lingering in the air. It was clear he liked to keep things clean, which made me warm up to him even more.

But while I wasn’t paying attention, he quietly locked the door behind us.

“Missy, I hurt my arm, so I can’t shower by myself. How about giving me a hand?”

He suddenly leaned in close, backing me up against the bed, his warm breath brushing against my face.

“What... what are you doing?”

I clutched my rapidly beating heart, flustered and unsure of what to do, but there was a small part of me that was curious: Was he really asking me to help him shower? Looking at his strong, muscular build, if I were single, I might actually consider it...

Before I could even think of a response, he started laughing.

“You’re so adorable, Missy. I was just messing with you, and you took it seriously?”

“Besides, why would I trouble you with something like that?”

I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it, but he seemed to put extra emphasis on those last few words.

I let out a breath, unsure if I felt relieved or a little disappointed.

“My name’s Stanley Lewis, but you can just call me Stan.”

As he spoke, Stanley casually pulled off his tank top and walked shirtless into the bathroom.

It wasn’t really a full bathroom—just a small area sectioned off with a semi-transparent curtain.

From where I stood, I could just make out Stanley’s silhouette through the semi-transparent curtain, his body barely visible, adding an unexpected touch of intrigue.

“Hey, I forgot my shorts. Could you pass them to me?”

Blushing, I grabbed a pair of shorts from the bed and handed them over.

Whether it was on purpose or not, Stanley’s fingers brushed against my palm as he took the shorts, sending a jolt of electricity through me. The desire I had just managed to suppress flared up again, and my chest tightened with anticipation.

To ease arousal coursing through my body, I reached behind and discreetly unhooked my bra, hoping to pleasure myself a little before Stanley came back out.

But before I could finish, Stanley stepped out sooner than I expected!

To my shock, he was wearing nothing but the pair of semi-sheer boxer briefs I had handed him earlier.

And to make things worse, I couldn’t help but stare at the obvious bulge in the front.

“Didn’t expect you to be into this kind of style, Missy,” he teased, walking toward me with a playful grin.

“N-no, it’s not like that. I just grabbed something off the bed for you...”

I really hadn’t given it much thought when I picked them up; I definitely didn’t mean anything by it.

“Missy, aren’t you supposed to help me put on some ointment?”

Stanley casually spread his legs and sat down on the lounge chair, looking like some kind of god waiting to be worshipped.

Blushing, I picked up the ointment and walked over to him.

“It might sting a little. Try to bear with it, okay?”

I bent down and used a small spoon to scoop up some of the white ointment, gently applying it to his red, swollen arm.

“The smell is amazing, Missy.”

“Smell good?”

I leaned in to sniff the ointment, but it didn’t have any noticeable scent.

“I meant you, Missy.”

It was only then that I noticed the way Stanley was looking at me—his gaze was anything but innocent. There was an intense, almost predatory look in his eyes, like he wanted to devour me whole.

And to make things even worse, I suddenly remembered I hadn’t fastened my bra back yet.

With the way I was leaning over, his eyes were practically on fire, tracing every inch of me and setting my body ablaze with his gaze.

Flustered and red-faced, I fumbled to fasten the clasp, but the more nervous I got, the harder it became to get it right.

The next moment, Stanley stood up and gently placed his hands on my shoulders, his head buried in the nape of my neck, his breath hot against my skin.

“Missy, let me help you with that.”

His hand slipped under my shirt from behind, smooth and stealthy like an eel.

“Did... did you hook it?”

He didn’t answer, but his hands were definitely not still.

His cool fingertips brushed over my shoulder blades, tracing slow circles around my waist.

“Your skin is so soft, Missy.”

I bit my lip, my back muscles tensed, trying to suppress the moan that was threatening to escape.

Just as I was about to pull away from his hold, he guided my hand down to his hard bulge.

I flinched as if I’d been burned, my body jerking up, but he pressed me back down firmly.

“Are you really going to leave me like this, Missy?” His voice dropped to a low whisper, “And honestly, I think you want this just as much as I do...”

Stanley pushed my dress up to my waist, his fingers skillfully exploring beneath it.

“Don’t…”

My last bit of self-control was slipping away.

“You’re already soaked, Missy.”

He pulled his fingers back and playfully wiggled them, smiling like a fox that had just caught its prey.

A mix of shame and excitement surged through me.

But what really caught me off guard was when Stanley, still holding my gaze, slowly licked his fingers, teasingly.

“Tastes good.”

It felt like a deafening explosion went off in my head.

My vision blurred, clouded with confusion and desire.

As if reading my thoughts, Stanley chuckled softly and removed the last barrier between us.

And my body, finally, found the release it had been craving...