When I woke up, I felt like I was floating in an ocean of warmth, softness, and sweat.
Why does it feel so good?
Rays were already shining on my bare shoulders, warming them tenderly as I reconnected with the world.
What day was it?
Why hadn't my alarm gone off?
Wait, where am I?
At first I didn’t understand where I was — just the press of a heavy arm across my ribs, the slow, steady rhythm of someone breathing under me. Then the smell of wood, sweat, and dried cum reached me, and it all came back.
Bastien.
I just slept with the sexiest beast in existence and I blew him to completion. I drank his man juice and I was loving how strong and thick his baby batter was.
I still feel his sour taste in my throat and mouth. Shit, I remember him blasting everywhere.
He was holding me tight, tighter than I expected, his forearm like a band of iron around my chest. I could barely move, my face on his left pec. My heart was a mess of panic and calm, of guilt and something dangerously close to bliss.
“Hey,” he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep. “You awake?”
I managed a small nod. He shifted, loosening his hold just enough so I could breathe a little easier, though he didn’t let go. His chin grazed my skull.
“Thanks you for staying last night…” he said quietly, almost to himself. “It’s been the best one I’ve had in a long time.”
I froze, waiting.
"Sleeping with you. It reminds how we used to do it." He cleared his throat, making me bounce on his pec. He truly sounded like a bear emerging from a deep slumber. "So thanks for staying over hon'."
I coun't find the right words. I felt kinda stupid at the moment, not sure if he wanted me to keep being Luc, or if he wanted something more out of me.
He went on, his tone soft but certain. “I’d forgotten what it was lik. You know. To feel this... close to someone. You're so good to hold.”
I turned slightly in his arms, just enough to see his face in the dim light. His eyes were open, calm, and lost in the ceiling. The kind of look that tells some introspection is happening.
He brushed a thumb along my jaw, absentmindedly, and then the words came — slow, careful, but deliberate:
“Luc… if you stay a little longer… would it be alright if I treated you like I did Amanda?”
Something inside me twisted, a pull between shame and longing. I wanted to say no. To tell him it wasn’t right, that I wasn’t her, that I couldn’t fill that hole. But his touch was so gentle, his eyes so lost.
“I don’t mean anything bad,” he added quickly, seeing the look on my face. “I just… miss taking care of someone. Miss having someone close.”
The bed creaked as he pulled me against him again, his chest against mine, his warmth swallowing the cool morning air.
I didn’t answer. My throat was too tight. But I didn’t move away either.
And when his hand found mine under the blanket, strong and patient, I let him hold it — knowing I was stepping deeper into something I might never get out of.
“I… I think I’d like that,” I said finally. My voice came out small, shaky. “I just—no one’s ever cared about me like you do.”
He didn’t answer right away; he just held me tighter, like he was afraid I might disappear if he let go. And that warmth—the steady, protective weight of it—made something in my chest give way.
My mind drifted back to the city, to that other bastard. To the endless waiting by the phone, the sharp messages, the nights spent wondering what I’d done wrong.
I saw again the smirk, the careless shrug, the way he’d twist my words until I felt stupid for needing anything. All his calls, his anger issues, his nasty words.
And the night I remember ending our relationship. By phone. Yeah, I know, it's bad, but I couln't handle the situation anymore. It was for the best. He deserved it, honestly.
Oh that bastard was not getting me back. That's for sure.
I don't care anymore if Bastien is viewing Amanda in me.
I don't care anymore his sexuality.
All that matters right now, it's the happyness we share, being in this bed together.
And now here was Bastien—rough, clumsy with emotions, calling me the wrong name, maybe even loving a ghost—but still treating me like I mattered. Like I was something worth holding onto.
I felt his breath on my neck, slow and deep. I closed my eyes and let it sink in.
“Okay Bastien,” I whispered. “You can. Call me however your want.”
His hand tightened around mine, just slightly, as if promising not to let go.
For the first time in a long time, the thought of being needed didn’t hurt.
"Will you be my sweet little wife again?"
Shit, every question he asked made me melt deeper into his arms and stomach cramps wracked my stomach.
"Yeah, I would love to. Baby."
As I said that last word, I felt his huge cock harden even more and come to touch my navel, bouncing. It clearly still had the vigor of a whole regiment despite the enormous amount of cum it had released last night.
"Welp, seems you just woke up to the beast. Sorry about that!" Bastien scratched his sweaty neck while pulling me away from his massive bulge.
"It's okay, I've seen it closer already."
"Hey, mind if I take a quicky?" His rusty finger pointed at the bathroom. "Bet I'm must stink right now, sorry hon'."
"Sure, go ahead."
"It's saturday, we kinda have a free time anyway. Let's go for a walk and have some lunch together."
The prospect of spending quality time with this man immediately got me excited, so I nodded to him and strated dressing up while he was cleaning.
He led me up a narrow path between the trees until we reached a small clearing overlooking the lake. The grass was pressed flat where people must have sat before—him and Amanda, I guessed. The thought stung for a heartbeat, then softened into something quieter.
He spread out a worn blanket and unpacked the food he’d made: still warm bread, a jar of greenish soup, a few slices of home-made pie he’d clearly tried too hard to make look perfect.
Yummy!
“Here we are, honey,” he said, setting the bowl in front of me.
We ate mostly in silence at first. The soup was thick, full of herbs and whatever vegetables he’d found at the market. It was acutally pretty good and I complimented him on the recieped.
"Thanks sweety."
Every few minutes, another nickname slipped out—“Amanda, can you pass me that?” or “You like the pie wifey?” Each time, I flinched less. I didn’t know if I was getting used to it or if part of me wanted to believe I could fill the space she’d left.
“You always come here?” I asked, glancing toward the water.
“Used to,” he said softly. “When things were good. She liked it quiet.”
I watched him stare at the lake, the reflection of the trees trembling in the surface. For the first time, I saw how lonely he looked, like the past was sitting right beside him.
“I can see why,” I said. “It’s so peaceful here.”
He turned to me and smiled again, gentler this time. “Yeah. Peaceful suits you, Amanda.”
Without thinking, I almost corrected him. But instead, I just smiled back, feeling the strange warmth of it—the affection behind the mistake, the way his voice softened when he said it.
For a moment, the world felt still. Maybe this was what he needed. Maybe, somehow, it was what I needed too.
After we’d finished eating, Bastien leaned back on his elbows, watching the water. The afternoon had turned warm, and the air buzzed faintly with the sound of crickets.
“So,” he said, his voice breaking the silence, “never told me much about yourself hon. What do you do, when you’re not here pretending to be some lumberjack?”
I smiled faintly. “Office job. Mostly communication in a small townhall. Nothing too exciting honestly. But I do love the workplace and my colleagues.”
"Good to hear." He chuckled. "It's true though. You don’t have the hands of someone who swings an axe for a living.”
I looked down at my palms — soft, small, nicked only recently from the class. “Guess I wanted to do something more concreate this time. Something that actually leaves marks.”
Bastien nodded slowly, like he understood exactly what I meant:
“Good choice, then. Wood doesn’t lie. You can see every mistake, every line of effort. It’s honest work.”
He took a sip from his flask, then passed it to me. I hesitated before drinking — something herbal and smoky burned down my throat.
What that his famous coffee reciepe?
“What about you?” I asked. “Always did this?”
He shook his head, eyes narrowing a little against the sunlight:
“Nah. Used to work construction. Heavy stuff. Bridges, houses, you name it. But the older I got, the less I liked the noise. The shouting. The rush to get things done cheap and fast, for annoying clients even! Out here… it’s quiet. I can work at my own rythm, without the nuiance. Been liking the teaching part more and more too.”
There was pride in his voice, but also something heavier — like he’d left more behind than just a job.
"You're a good teacher Bastien."
"Thank you." He said calmly, his eyes glowing. It was like he was directly speaking to my soul.
He went quiet for a moment. “Can I hug you again?”
I felt heat rise in my face. I didn’t know what to say, so I just looked away toward the lake. The ripples shimmered in the sunlight, and for a strange, fleeting moment, I felt… calm.
"Of course,” I said. "Don't need to ask me every time you know."
In a flash he was already standing, sporting a magnificent, frank smile, while looking me over, he was so reassuring and manly.
“I just couln't supress the urge. Need to hug you again wifey."
He grabbed me by the pelvis, lifted me into the air as if I weighed nothing at all, and held me tight against him.
Oh, Bastien, you always have the perfect trick for making me melt.
Every single fucking time.
Soon, his big palms hugged my cheeks firmly, while my legs found their natural place around his waist. With my head digging into his neck, I could already feel the intense aromas escaping from his armpits, invading my nostrils.
I feel so good. So loved and safe.
Keep loving me Bastien.
I cried.
I couln't hold it anymore. I was shaking in his arms, unable to control the streams. I cried and cried, thinking about all the time I had lost with my stupid-ass ex. And now... now I was with Bastien. Everything was so simple and heartwarming.
I was living again.
"I love you Bastien!" I finally said, between two sobs. "I love you so much."
"Love you sweety." He simply replied.
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