The 2010s were a chapter of unrestrained decadence and debauchery in my life. After a relationship that ended in spectacular fashion, I was single in New York City—a place that offers everything and asks only that you have the nerve to take what you want. I was decent-looking, Asian, took up boxing at the time, well-mannered, gainfully employed, and just pervy enough to charm women way out of my league. For most of my 30s, I was lucky enough to sleep with more than my fair share of beautiful women who walked the streets of this city.

One of these women was Brenda, a grad student with a boyfriend and a cheating kink.

Brenda was one of those contradictions you stumble upon in the city—a whip-smart PhD student, the type who aced every test without breaking a sweat. A petite Latina with long, dark, flowing hair, no makeup, and a backpack full of books heavier than she was. To the untrained eye, she seemed like the kind of girl you’d spot rushing across campus, all focused on her academic ambitions. But beneath the nerdy exterior, there was something else—an edge, a shadow, a lustful deviance, a desire to be bad after being good for so long.

She was smart enough to keep it hidden, of course. You’d never suspect it—she was too composed, too disciplined. But every once in a while, she needed to take that mask off and breathe. Lucky for me, I caught her at just the right time on one of those old dating sites where you actually messaged someone you were interested in, instead of just swiping.

Of course, she had a boyfriend—a fellow overachiever, no doubt. Probably a goody-two-shoes who spent Saturday nights playing board games with her and their friends, only to be up early the next morning, ready to hit the library. I didn’t know much about him, just the occasional tidbit from Brenda, usually something along the lines of, “I can’t sext you right now, he’s with me.” All I know is, she needed to be fucked like a whore, and he wasn’t the one to do it.

Brenda and I only saw each other a handful of times, and always on her terms—when she needed to shed the facade of the perfect student and indulge in something more primal. No complaints from me.

I remember the first time we met. We’d been chatting online for a while, skipping past the polite small talk and diving headfirst into sex. She told me early on that she had a boyfriend at school, but that she craved something he couldn’t give her—a man who wasn’t afraid to take what he wanted. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard this from women like her: smart, confident, and composed in public, but secretly yearning for someone to unravel them, someone who wasn’t too nice or sweet.

When we finally met, it wasn’t for a date—she didn’t have time for that. Between her internship and classwork, her schedule was tight. She just wanted to see me, no pretenses. So, I sent her an Uber. It was still new at the time, and the logistics of ordering for someone else were clunky, but we made it work. She was picked up straight from her internship and delivered to my apartment like Chinese takeout, ready to be devoured.

She texted: “I’m here.” I replied back with my apartment number, and then came the wait—the kind of wait that stretches every second into a minor eternity. Then I heard it: the elevator doors creaked open, followed by a soft knock. When I opened the door, there she was, stepping in like she’s been here a thousand times. No hesitation. No awkward stumbles. Brenda carried herself with the kind of calm that makes you wonder if this was a booty call or your old friend coming over to hang. You’d never guess she was here to fuck a man she’d only met.

She was wearing something that’s a mix of professionalism and practicality: dress pants and a blouse that screamed “student budget,” probably from Old Navy. The outfit almost worked, but not quite. Her oversized backpack didn’t help. Fashion wasn’t her thing, and honestly, I was more interested in what’s underneath her clothes. She was a 5’2” Latina with long, dark hair that had been in a ponytail all day, small B-cup breasts, and an ass that belonged in a room much louder than mine.

When she dropped her backpack, it hit the ground with the kind of thud that reminded you how serious this girl was about school. Normally, I’d skip the pleasantries and dive in—rip her clothes off, skip the talking, the staring, the preamble, and just shove my dick in her mouth. But something about her comfort stopped me. She wasn’t nervous, not pretending to be someone she wasn’t. That kind of self-assurance makes you curious.

So I poured us wine and started to talk. She wasn’t a drinker, but she played her part, sipping like she’d done it a thousand times. Two strangers sharing a moment at a kitchen table, getting to know each other before giving into our animalistic urges.

“So, you’re finally here,” I said.

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve been soooo busy with school and my internship. And I’m getting ready to go to [some third-world country to do something selfless. What exactly, I can’t remember.] for the summer,” she said.

“Wow, that’s incredible,” I replied, summoning an ounce of enthusiasm to hide my indifference. “Important work—must be a hell of an adventure.”

“Yeah…” she trailed off, her voice tapering into the kind of silence that only follows a half-assed, thoughtless reply.

“Does he know where you are?” I asked, steering the conversation back to the reason she was sitting across from me.

“He thinks I’m working late. I’ll see him later—if he’s not already in bed,” she said, her tone as casual as if we were talking about the weather.

That was it. I couldn’t wait any longer. I set my glass down and stood in front of her, close enough to feel the faint warmth of her breath. Slowly, I ran my hand through her hair, letting the strands slide between my fingers. In a low, firm voice, I said, “Take my cock out and suck it.”

Her eyes lifted to mine, wide and obedient, as if she’d been waiting for the command. Without hesitation, her hands moved to my belt, her movements steady, deliberate, practiced. There was no fumbling, no shyness, no performance. This wasn’t her first time.

She unbuttoned my jeans, easing them down just enough to free my growing cock from the constraints of my boxers. Leaning forward with the same ease and calm she’d shown all evening, she took me into her mouth and began to suck.

You’d never have guessed by looking at Brenda that she’d be such an amazing cocksucker. She probably applied the same discipline and rigor to perfecting the art of sucking dick as she did to excelling in school or anything else in her life. She paid careful attention to every inch of my cock, her lips wrapping fully around the tip before slowly sliding down the length of my shaft. The suction was firm but never overly forceful, a perfect balance that delivered an overwhelming wave of pleasure.

She had little to no gag reflex, taking me entirely into her mouth with ease. Her throat relaxed as she eased me deeper, her nose pressing against my stomach as she simultaneously smelled and tasted me.

As she sucked me, I reached inside her blouse, hastily pushing her cotton bra aside to feel her tits. My fingers found their way to her nipples, pinching and rolling them between my thumb and index finger as she expertly sucked my cock.

I withdrew from her eager lips and told her to undress. She stood from her chair and began removing her clothes as if she were in her dorm room getting ready for bed. She wasn’t trying to be overtly sexy—or maybe she was—but her comfort in her own skin was undeniably a turn-on.

I joined her, stripping off my clothes, and led our naked bodies into the bedroom. Once she lay on my bed, we began to kiss like old lovers. Our lips moved together hungrily as our hands roamed, exploring every inch of each other. I felt her smooth, youthful skin, tasted the softness of her lips, and ran my fingers through her thick, luscious hair. My hands gripped her full, round ass while she stroked my cock and kissed me deeply.

There was no hesitation, no awkward fumbling. Just raw, unfiltered passion. Her legs spread open instinctively as I positioned myself between them. We kept kissing, the heat building as I felt her warmth and wetness pressing against my bare cock. I broke our kiss briefly to ask, “Do you want a condom?”

She looked up at me, her voice steady, her reply simple: “I’m on the pill.”

With that, I pushed myself inside her, her wetness making it effortless to fill her completely. She was unbelievably wet, her body welcoming mine as she wrapped her legs tightly around my waist, pulling me deeper.

I started fucking her from above, my arms braced on either side of her, my cock sliding in and out of her wet, hungry pussy. The sound of our bodies meeting was as loud as her soft, breathy moans, filling the room with something primal and raw.

“When was the last time you were fucked like this?” I asked, in between heavy breathing.

“A long time. I never get fucked properly,” she moaned, her words coming out between gasps.

“Take me. Have your way with me,” she added, her voice trembling with desire.

Those words sent shivers down my spine, as I grab her wrists above her head and fucked her harder and faster. Her body tensed beneath me, responding to my rhythm. Her moans turned into cries, each one matching the urgency of my movements. The heat, the pace, the rawness of it all—it was at that moment I felt her orgasm. Her pussy clenched tightly around my cock, pulsing as she cum into a wave of pleasure. I didn’t stop, thrusting into her as she came.

With a few more thrusts, as she was coming down from her climax, I was ready to explode.

“I’m going to fill you up and send you home leaking,” I growled, giving one final, deep push before I came. I unloaded inside her, her warm Ivy League pussy receiving every drop from me. It was one of the biggest loads I’d ever had, filling her as I collapsed on top of her, breathless and spent.

Still inside of her, my cock softened slowly, sliding out of her along with the mess we’d made. My cum oozed out, pooling onto the once-clean sheets as we lay there in the aftermath, bodies entwined and utterly satisfied.

I lay on my back as she nestled against me, her body warm and soft, my arm wrapped around her. We stayed silent, letting the moment linger as we enjoyed the final waves of pure ecstasy. We both knew that when she eventually started getting dressed, she wouldn’t just be putting on her clothes—she’d be putting her mask back on and resuming the carefully curated good girl persona she crafted for the rest of the world, including her boyfriend.

For now, though, she was just her, and I was the only one who got to see it.

I didn’t see Brenda again until the fall semester, after she returned from her internship trip. Whenever she needed to take off her mask, she’d come over, and I’d use her like a fuck toy before sending her back to her wholesome boyfriend with her belly filled with my cum.