Victor held his breath, trying not to surrender too quickly.

As if he could hide anything from me.

I let him feel my breath hovering close, the warmth of my body above his.

No rush.

No direct touches—not yet.

He was already hard.

Pulsing.

I smiled, satisfied.

I reached for the toy.

Victor knew this ritual.

But this—having a thick strap-on entering him—was new.

I slid two fingers inside him first, feeling his body tense around them.

He was sensitive.

I knew.

I leaned over him, trailing my lips along his neck, then moving lower, to the spot where he was already waiting for me.

My tongue circled him slowly before pushing deeper.

I heard his stifled moan, and it set me on fire.I played a little longer, teasing, driving him insane, holding him right on the edge.

Then, I positioned the tip of the toy.

Slowly.

Just a hint of pressure, an initial tease.

He tensed beneath me, trying to hold control.

What a sweet illusion.

I pressed forward gently, inch by inch.

Each new movement brought a fresh shiver, another unsteady breath.

With my other hand, I wrapped around his length, squeezing in perfect rhythm, synchronizing every motion, pushing him to the edge—without letting him fall over.

I told him to hold his cum.

And he tried.

My good boy tried.

But his body had already betrayed any illusion of control.

I knew exactly when the moment was right.

I quickened my pace.

Deeper. Harder.

My touch, my dominance, my pleasure in seeing him like this—completely surrendered to me, in my hands.

Ethan finally left the bathroom, his hands trembling slightly. He stared at Meryl with wide eyes, searching for the right words to explain, stammering, the inexplicable. “Hannah said you, I mean, you both suffer from something called dissociative identity disorder, or something like that.”

“Hannah said? Hannah said? You cheated on me with that bitch. Cheated? You ungrateful bastard. Scoundrel. Men are ‘all the same’, I should have known.” Meryl ranted, leaving the bunker and leaving the door open. Ethan, now calmer, followed her.

Ethan walked to the couch. But when he tried to sit down, Meryl stopped him: “Don’t sit on my couch smelling like that bitch. Go take a shower,” Meryl ordered, completely out of control. She added: “Or better yet, don’t take a shower. Don’t pollute my bathroom with her smell.”

“What smell, Meryl? You can smell me. Calm down, I’ll explain,” Ethan replied calmly, now more confident.

“Explain? I don’t want an explanation. I want to know everything. In the smallest details,” Meryl said as she poured a shot of 18-year-old Chivas whiskey from a bottle that had never been opened. She continued: “Let’s go. Tell the truth. Don’t lie to me. Do you see that butcher knife on the counter? I’ll stab you with it if you lie to me.”

Ethan took a deep breath, gathering all the courage he had, knowing that the truth was his only salvation in that moment. He began to recount the events of that afternoon, each word weighing on his conscience while Meryl stared at him with a mix of disbelief and pain.

“I know it’s hard to believe, Meryl, but Hannah didn’t tell the whole truth. It’s not just dissociative identity disorder, it’s something different and unknown, something I don’t fully understand yet,” Ethan tried to explain, his words sounding more like a plea than a coherent explanation.

Meryl interrupted him, her voice trembling with rage and sadness. “Don’t come at me with excuses, Ethan. You spent the afternoon with another woman. You cheated on me, deceived me… and now you want me to believe it’s some sort of mental disorder? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Tears began to flow down Meryl’s face, her mask of bravery finally falling apart in the face of Ethan’s betrayal. She turned away, unable to look at him any longer, her heart shattered into pieces.

Ethan carefully approached her, his own pain reflected in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Meryl. There’s no excuse for what happened, but please, believe me when I say it wasn’t what it seems. Hannah tricked me. I love you, more than anything, and I’d do anything to fix this.”

Meryl turned to face him, her eyes red and swollen, a mix of sadness and anger etched on her face. “I don’t know if I can forgive you, Ethan. You broke my trust, my faith in us… and now I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get it back.”