Chapter 1
"This isn't the way to my house, is it?" Ella Garcia stumbled along the road, squinting at the grand, golden letters in front of her. It looked like a hotel.
David Jones held her hand, coaxing softly, "You're not feeling well right now. It's too far to go home. Let's rest at the hotel first, and I'll take you home once you feel better."
Ella's rational mind sensed something was off.
David was a blind date arranged by her family. They had met for dinner at a poorly rated restaurant, with nothing around except this hotel.
After dinner, she had felt dizzy and feverish, struggling even to walk.
Ella wasn't stupid. She immediately tried to pull away and shouted, "Let go of me!"
David tightened his grip, continuing to coax, "It's okay. You'll feel better soon."
"You're a creep! Let go of me!" Ella shouted, "Help!"
The security guard at the hotel entrance glanced over. David smiled and explained, "She drank too much. We're a couple."
Ella shook her head and said, "No, I don't know him. I..."
Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed her arm, and a deep voice sounded in her ear, "Do you know him?"
Ella looked up, trying to see his face, but could only make out a blurry outline.
Her gaze dropped to his military uniform, which seemed to stand out in sharp clarity.
She felt like she had found a protector and obediently shook her head. "No, I don't know him. He's supposed to be a blind date..."
Michael Johnson turned to David and asked, "Are you going to leave on your own, or should I call the police?"
David, realizing his plan was ruined and intimidated by Michael's uniform, spat angrily and left.
Michael looked down at the unsteady Ella and questioned, "Where do you live?"
Ella mumbled something.
Michael leaned closer and asked, "What?"
Ella suddenly leaned in, her lips brushing his ear, and whispered an address.
Michael's Adam's apple bobbed as he picked her up and carried her to his car.
Half an hour later, Michael carried Ella to her door and asked for her keys, but her hands trembled too much to find them.
"They're in my pants pocket," she whispered.
"Sorry," Michael apologized before reaching into her back pocket. His hand pressed a bit too hard, and Ella let out a small sound.
Michael swallowed hard, feeling a tightness in his pants. He had been celibate for a long time.
After finding the keys, he quickly opened the door and placed Ella on the bed, avoiding looking at her too much, and turned to leave.
"Wait, water..." Ella mumbled, feeling thirsty.
Michael couldn't leave her like that. He turned back and poured her a glass of water. She drank quickly, spilling some on his thumb and forefinger.
Ella finished the glass and then started sucking the water off his fingers.
"You feel nice," she said, her face pressing against his hand, rubbing it, and looking up at him with glistening eyes, "Cool me down."
Without waiting for Michael's consent, Ella clung to him, trying to find relief, her hands around his waist, rubbing against him.
Her cheek occasionally brushed against his erect penis, eliciting a low groan from him.
For some reason, the sound was incredibly arousing, making Ella feel even hotter.
She unconsciously stroked Michael's erect penis, as if discovering something new, "It's still growing."
Michael was struggling, trying to control himself, his hands gripping her shoulders to pull her up.
Ella, soft and pliant, fell against him, holding his neck, "I'm so hot, what should I do?"
"Get a grip, I'm not your blind date," Michael said, his eyes reddening with restraint.
Ella rubbed against his neck and said, "I know, but you can."
Michael's rationality completely collapsed. He pulled her tightly against him, making her sit on his lap, pressing her close, and asked in a hoarse voice, "I can?"
"Yes, you can," Ella responded, her voice changing with arousal, urging him on.
Her hands deftly unbuttoned two buttons on Michael's uniform, revealing his solid chest muscles. She slipped her hand inside, squeezing, enjoying the feel.
Michael's chest muscles twitched, and he tore her clothes open with one hand, lowering his head to kiss her exposed breasts, while his other hand slid down her neck, into her pants.
His hand was hot, and everywhere it touched felt like it was on fire.
"Hurry," Ella was completely ignited, desperate.
"Don't rush, you'll get hurt," Michael said, struggling to hold back, flipping her over and pressing her down, pulling off her pants, lifting her hips towards his face, and leaning in to lubricate her.
His rough tongue swept over Ella's clitoris and vulva, making her body and voice tremble.
His tongue pushed into her vaginal opening, while his thumb continued to rub her clitoris.
Ella couldn't help but clamp her legs around Michael's head, trembling uncontrollably.
Michael didn't give her a moment to rest, his tongue pushing further in, his fingers joining in, patiently searching for her sensitive spot.
Suddenly, he pressed a certain spot, and Ella's vagina tightened involuntarily. She cried out in panic, "What is that?"
Michael smirked and pressed harder, "That's your happy spot."
He stood up, unzipping his pants, his erect penis springing out, the head rubbing against her wet vaginal opening, teasing her clitoris with increased pressure.
Ella lifted her hips, trying to draw him in, but Michael only teased her, rubbing the head against her before pulling away.
"Come in... give it to me..." She whimpered, urging him.
Michael's scalp tingled, wanting to thrust in but afraid of hurting Ella, his veins bulging with restraint.
Ella had no patience, reaching for his penis, guiding it into her body, her vaginal opening eagerly sucking him in, her other hand caressing her breast to alleviate the emptiness.
The person beneath him was flushed pink, her hips lifting continuously, her breasts bouncing. Michael finally lost control, thrusting in deeply.
Her vagina seemed to suck him in, and Michael couldn't hold back, thrusting hard, their bodies colliding with echoes.
The bed protested loudly, its connection producing white foam.
Ella initially clung to him, urging, "harder, faster," but after an hour, she could only hang limply on him, begging, "Let's rest for a bit."
Michael pulled out, their connection sticky, his semen spilling out of her.
He glanced at the crumpled, wet sheets and carried her to the couch.
Ella, half-asleep, asked, "Is it over?"
She heard a merciless reply, "It's just beginning."
The next morning, Ella woke with a start.
The memories of last night were hazy and ambiguous. She slowly turned her head, her breath catching when she saw the man sleeping on the floor.
Wasn't this the officer who had helped her catch a thief years ago?
That encounter had been so impressive that Ella remembered it to this day.
She had thought about possibly meeting him again, but never imagined it would be like this.
She hoped he wouldn't think she was easy.
Ella climbed off the couch to wash up, almost kneeling on him, but steadied herself in time, noticing the mess outside the couch.
At least it was him.
Ella muttered, "At least he's clean."
Ten minutes later, she finished tidying up, looked at the sleeping man, and, after some thought, left a note before leaving.
As the door closed, Michael's eyes snapped open. He looked at the closed door, then at the note on the table.
He opened it, reading her apology for her drunken behavior and her phone number, offering compensation.
Michael stared at the note for a while, then pulled out his phone to type a message: Next time, don't leave strangers in your house. Also, not all soldiers are clean.