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Morning came as it always had, bringing forth a soothing sunbeam as the Rhodes Island landship cruised beyond the sandy, salted plains below.
Before you had even opened your eyes, you knew you were enveloped by the Sarkaz; her arms taut around your waist, her warm cheek a pleasant weight against your bare back.
You stirred, and she stirred in kind. A quiet moan slipped from her lips as she adjusted herself, and as you turned to face her.
She was beautiful like this; you realized. Naked and in your arms. Vulnerable— to no one. Only you, and you alone.
She clenched her eyes shut from the light once you moved, casting those sunbeams on her flustered, blushing face. With a quiet groan, she stirred, and she scooted just a little closer toward you, as if your body might better hide the day’s welcome.
No such luck. All the movement did was make you smile, and you leaned down to plant a sugar-sweet kiss against her forehead, admiring how tousled her ashen locks laid over her forehead and against her slender shoulders.
Yes… when she was lying against you like this, it was easy to see just how deceptively skinny she was. A frail little thing; you could just as likely twist her and bend her, almost in the same manner you did the night prior.
Another kiss against her forehead got her stirring all over again, and she groaned as she opened those fiery eyes of hers to meet your gaze. It was extremely obvious from the look on her face that she didn’t want to move a single muscle today if she didn’t have to—most likely from a profound sense of embarrassment and wounded pride, but perhaps also because she was just plain comfortable here, naked, beneath the bedsheets with you.
“Morning,” she grumbled. “Make me some fucking breakfast, will you…?”
You reminded the ex-mercenary that was simply no way to ask for things—especially this early in the morning, and considering all you’d done for her thus far.
Considering the circumstances, she smirked.
“Pretty please—with sugar on top—make me some fucking breakfast, Teach.”
It would have to do for now. You went for the edge of the bedspread to haul yourself up, only to reel back once W yanked you back into her arms with a flustered, mad grin.
“What? I didn’t mean right this instant,” she told you. “Just, mm, give me a second. You’re so damn warm, and for what…”
It was true. The Sarkaz’s skin, while flushed with embarrassment and evidence of last night’s intimacies, was cool to the touch. She wasn’t frigid—at least not physically—though it was obvious to the both of you your skin was much hotter to the touch than hers was.
She clung to you in bed as if you were her body pillow, and she wrapped her arms and legs around you with a contented little hum. You watched, mesmerized, as the smile crept across her face, eyes crinkling at the corners, and a warmth spreading through the room.
And yet, the smile disappeared just as quickly as it’d bloomed, replaced with an expression of uncertainty as W scooted away from you—as if you’d somehow wounded the poor beast.
She wrapped her spade-tipped tail around her wrist, like she was using it to ground herself, and her expression turned towards a further uncertainty that had her staring down at her bare feet when she pulled them in toward her body, sitting cross-legged over the stained mattress.
“I feel weird,” she confessed suddenly, and to your surprise.
She feels… weird? I wonder what’s wrong?
“I don’t think I like this feeling,” she said, running her hands over her stomach, frowning down at it. She didn’t look to be in pain, however, merely stunted and left reeling from some mental or emotional blow that was heretofore unknown in its fatality.
W frowned again, and she made a sound like a deflating balloon, and she used one hand to shoo you away from her; away from the bed and your little den of comfort. “Go, then,” she urged. “Make us breakfast. Don’t make me ask again…”
Although her voice trembled slightly, you knew she wasn’t truly upset. You’d been coaching the flustered Sarkaz for a couple of months now, serving as her professor for most things—notably grammar, spelling, punctuation, and things such as.
The Sarkaz—W—would never call herself slow. However, she had no qualms about emphasizing just how little she regarded academia, and the fact she’d never once graduated from a class of any kind.
It made perfect sense, of course. She was a Sarkaz from Kazdel, and what schools hadn’t yet been reduced to rubble were far more focused on teaching the “practical things,” according to W herself. It was in a makeshift classroom, after all, that she learned how to reload a gun. It was in a makeshift classroom, too, that she learned how to apply a tourniquet.
Needless to say, when it came to the more cerebral lessons, W did not know of them and she didn’t care who knew it. Of what use was history, she once asked, when all that mattered was that she blew up the right people? What was the point of mathematics, then, for anything beyond the careful measurement of blasting powder?
To that end, it was Dr. Kal’tsit who hired you—an event so rare that the old cat’s entourage hounded you and sternly requested you contact them for anything at all. If you needed more pencils and papers, you only needed to call. If you were hurting for chalk or markers, simply give them a ring.
But if you needed help to get W to cooperate; indeed, if you needed to make sure that W actually came to class…
Well, there was the one time operator Blaze practically dragged her—kicking and yelling—into your new classroom aboard the landship. That was when you two had met at last, and you didn’t think you’d ever forget that piercing glare of hers. Why, if looks could kill, then on that day, W was packing several tons of plastic explosive.
Here and now, the Sarkaz W—your student—watched you shuffle out of bed, utterly naked as you trudged across the room to pick up your underpants; the ones she’d practically peeled and thrown off your body in the throes of your passion.
“You can, um, stay naked. If you want,” she added.
You put your underpants back on, anyway, and W rolled her eyes with a scoff. Then you slipped from the bedroom and into the kitchenette, never catching the frown that crept back onto her uncertain face.
* * *
It was several days ago that she’d handed in her worst essay yet—one utterly devoid of punctuation and proper capitalization. Your task for her was a remarkably simple one. All she needed to do was describe, in as much detail as suited her, the Sarkaz’s favorite things and why she loved them so.
You figured this lesson would be a walk in the park, even for her. The easiest one so far, at any rate. What could be easier than listing one’s own favorites and reminiscing on the page?
It was as if W had put in next to no effort whatsoever. Her grammar was all over the place, and what letters you recognized appeared as if she’d scrawled them with her toes. She smiled impishly as your eyes scanned the sole page of her work, as if she found it thrilling to watch your face scrunch up and sag at the mere sight of her sentences.
“It’s good, isn’t it, Teach?” W kept that impish little smile on her face, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she fought back a giggle. “What do you think? Gimme your honest feedback!”
You did exactly as she asked, of course, and she could no longer fight back the giggle that’d been building up inside her. She released her laugh, which sounded almost haughty, all things considered, as she was more than happy to tease you and try to waste your time.
“Guess class is over, then?” she asked, rolling her eyes as she twirled about in place. “Hey, by the way… I look damn good, don’t I?”
You said nothing, though you couldn’t deny how attractive W was to you. The Sarkaz girl was spunky, and just your type—though you would never tell her that to her face. Not when it would go right to her ego and inflate it much further than it already was.
In any case, you were more than happy to give her a thorough looking-over, admiring the way the outfit hugged her curves and the subtle shimmer of the fabric in the light. W was dressed casually in a charcoal-colored jacket, unzipped to reveal a matching gray t-shirt beneath a hugging black scarf. Her sleeves were pulled back to reveal some scarring on her forearms—some based in Originium, others based in strife.
She wore dark fingerless gloves, the deep red of her nails a stark contrast against the muted tones of her clothing. Beneath the open jacket was a ruffled skirt, and beneath that—your eyes wandering, perhaps, further than they should have—were matching legging that held taut against her slender skin, accentuating the girl’s thighs and the splendor both beneath them and between them.
The ashen hair cascaded down her face and shoulders in purposefully disheveled waves, the color of a winter sky. From there, the redness of her horns and those two peculiar “antennae” of hers that always drew your eyes in their starkness.
“Take a picture, Teach,” she teased. “It’ll last longer.”
You told her she looked better than good. Despite yourself, you told her she looked fantastic.
Somehow, it took her off guard. W scoffed and stammered, and her cheeks flushed crimson as she tore her eyes away from yours and stared pointedly at the floor, as if the ground beneath her feet was by far the most interesting thing in this world.
“Yeah, I know I look good,” she retorted. “I just wanted to hear you say it, obviously… dummy.”
This was reminding you of something… but what?
Before you could give it too much thought, W turned on her heel and flicked her spade-tipped tail against your cheek. It didn’t hurt, but it certainly left a lasting impression as you watched her go, her hips swaying almost seductively as she walked on, ignoring whatever protest was dying on your lips.
“Catch ya later, Teach,” she said, and she walked off just like that, having not known you could still see the furious blush against her cheeks and the tips of her pointed ears.
With a sigh, you carefully placed W’s pathetic essay in your binder, next to the other assignments, wondering if all this work was truly worthwhile. It appeared W had no intention of learning in earnest. What, then, was all this for? Why bother with a student who was this bratty and indignant?
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with fiery hues of orange and purple as the day gave way to evening. The landship roved on as it always had, and Rhodes Island operators came and gone from the helipads on the uppermost deck of the vessel.
Then, of course, there were people like you—yawning and stretching as they prepared for a peaceful night’s sleep, their rooms dimly lit to prepare for morning’s arrival.
And yet…
Perhaps a restless night shouldn’t have surprised you, given what’s been going on. There was no deep sleep in store for you—but an interruption.
And an interruption by someone you didn’t recognize, to boot.
The question came as a surprise, especially considering you had no idea who the sender was. You moved to type a response, but the other person was faster still.
You waited a few seconds, and a new batch of messages came through to your phone. This time, they were screenshots—every one of them.
And you were more than a little surprised by the contents therein.
+++
The screenshots stopped there—for now. You had a sneaking suspicion, however, that you knew exactly what would come next. The stranger—apparently named Ines—confirmed it herself with her following messages.
It was a disturbing question. Could you possibly turn this flustered mercenary into a proper woman? The notion seemed far beyond you.
Yes, you were well aware of the possibility of death. This was W you were talking about. Somehow, you couldn’t ever imagine her being… soft. Pining.
And yet…
Oh, you most certainly got it. It was safe to say that your excitement was growing now, especially once Ines’ next screenshot came through.
+++
And then…
A series of texts from W herself.
Is W… nervous? You didn’t think it was possible for her to be hesitant like this. Then again, given the circumstances…
You gulped, nearly tossing your phone in surprise as the picture filled your screen. A picture of W—your student—showing off her shockingly thin bra.
An itty bitty bra. It seemed to strain against her bosom. She needed something bigger!
Or she needed to wear nothing at all.
You gulped as your eyes stayed glued to the picture, and you felt a familiar tightness in your boxers as you licked your lips, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as though you did not know how to respond.
However, you didn’t want to keep W waiting. Who knew when an opportunity like this would pass by again?
Steeling yourself, you elected to just come out and say the first thing that came to mind.
This felt morally dubious, a sense of disquiet blooming as you pressed W towards an action that felt inherently wrong. Perhaps you should have dialed it back. Perhaps you should… apologize. Even if you were both adults, you were still her professor. It was your responsibility to be, well, responsible.
Holy fuck. Holy fuck. You never thought you’d see W’s bare breasts like this. Hell, you never thought you’d see any part of W like this. A thousand thoughts tunneled through your mind all at once, and all of them were wholly inappropriate.
Ines… you made a mental note to fall to your knees and thank her for all this.
There was a great pause on the other end, where W gave no reply for almost five minutes. You had to imagine she was giggling in her own dorm room, or perhaps she was boasting about this to that Ines from before. It suddenly occurred to you that W was likely to mouth off about this development to anyone around her who might listen, and you wondered just how long until it was Dr. Kal’tsit who was pounding on your door, no doubt vexed by the circumstances.
Once again, no response—this time for about seven minutes before you started to worry. Had you said too much? Had you gone too far? W’s moods were unpredictable, making it impossible to know what actions would be met with approval or anger.
After almost ten minutes, she sent another picture—this one her spiciest one yet.
Seconds later, you were knocking on W’s dorm room door, and a muffled shriek, followed by a thud, came from within. After a few more seconds, W opened the door and stood right there in the threshold, looking absolutely ragged and practically feral as her chest rose and fell with her heavy breathing.
“Hey, um, Teach,” she grumbled, glowering. “Uh… I didn’t think you’d… actually show up.”
It was clear you’d caught her off guard. W was wearing nothing but a gray shirt that covered her down to just past her crotch, and she forced the shirt down lower, having bunched up the hem in her trembling little fists. She appeared all at once like a bundle of nerves trying as best she could to hide her nakedness, and she gave you a wobbly smile as you scanned her up and down with your lecherous and hungering gaze.
“You’re just full of surprises,” she said, and she stared right at your lips as if waiting for more promises to spill forth from them. “Well,” she added, “are you going to do what you came here to do, or not?”
You could tell she was nervous, and it was a welcome sight to see her so flustered. In any case, more than happy to follow, you stepped past the threshold and into her room; the door clicking shut behind you just as W pulled you into her arms with fierce intensity, the scent of her lust filling the air.
“God damn it, Teach,” she grumbled. “You’ve really done it now…”
Her lips, trembling like a leaf in a storm, crashed against yours in a kiss that was both fierce and desperate, stealing your breath away. You kissed back, doing your utmost to match her intensity beat for beat, and your hands found W’s backside after you slid your hands down the length of her thin frame, your palms settling on her bare ass while you raised up the hem of her shirt, firmly intent on just feeling her quiver beneath your fingertips—the naughty student she was. You supposed this was as good a time as any to practice linguistics.
W’s cellphone buzzed on its nightstand, but neither you nor the Sarkaz were keen to check. Just as well, you were wholly unsurprised at just how messy her bedroom was, what with her sheets and pillows strewn about the place as though she had been fixing to make a den of cloth.
W went to lie on her back, and she spread her legs with a submissive little smile as you came down upon her, sealing your lips against her own in another tantalizing kiss while you ran two of your fingers along her soaking wet snatch, relishing the warmth and wetness between her tender little thighs. She was this wet because of you, and the realization felt stronger than any drug Rhodes Island had ever made.
“Fuck,” W breathed. “Praise me, Teach… please…”
You arched an eyebrow. Did you hear that right?
“I want your praise,” she confessed. “I need it more than anything else…”
You nipped against her ear and told her what a good student she was being for you right now. With an impish little giggle, W wrapped her legs around your waist and pulled you even closer to her body.“Well,” she purred, “I need praise almost more than anything else. There’s still something else you’ve got for me, Teach—something I think I’ve earned for being such a hard-working student… don’t you think?”
W’s expression brightened as you tried to remove your pants, though her grasp around you was making it far more difficult than it should have been. It was clear the seductive Sarkaz was just as excited as you were, and she soon proved it by sitting upright to help you get your pants off, practically peeling them off your body before flinging them across the room.
“That takes care of that,” she said, smirking and raising her arms. “Now maybe you wanna help me, Teach?”
With a sense of excitement, you removed W’s only garment, lifting the shirt off her body and casting it away to admire her exposed form. She looked even more gorgeous now than she did in those pictures she’d sent. Yet, to your surprise, she still covered her breasts and her crotch with her hands, blushing beet red beneath your scrutiny.
“Hah… I guess I’m still not used to this,” she remarked, slowly removing her hands to expose herself to you once more. “Here you are, Teach… now why don’t you hurry and tell me how smoking hot I am?”
You went one step further and told her she was beautiful, and W rolled her eyes while the blush only darkened her cheeks further.
“Yeah, well, whatever,” she mumbled, fidgeting in your gaze. “I think you’re pretty good too, Teach…”
She could shy away from her feelings all she liked, but you could tell she was loving every second of this. You continued to shower her with praise, even as you put your hands all over her, and W moaned as you returned your hand to her snatch, kissing her with all the passion you could muster as you teased her soaking wet sex with your fingers.
W’s face remained flush red with embarrassment and lust as she returned the favor, reaching down with one hand to stroke your cock—albeit haphazardly. It was clear from her motions she hadn’t done this before, though you were more than willing to help her learn; to turn her into the little expert she believed she could be.
Perhaps, when all was said and done, you might even grade your student on this…
She grinned at the thought, and you were lying on your back before you knew it. W wanted to take some control for herself, and she did that by keeping you supine while using one hand to stroke your cock up and down, back and forth, over and over again. She analyzed your movements, licking her lips as she watched you squirm, groan, and shudder beneath her. Already she was working up a fine rhythm with her pumping, jerking you off quickly enough to get you panting, but not so quickly that it was discomforting. Her hand felt surprisingly soft against your dick, her slender fingers wrapped around your shaft while she masturbated you.
“There’s something else I wanna try, Teach,” she said, and you knew exactly what it was for how W repositioned herself, lying prone with your dick casting a shadow right on her flustered face. Her smile turned wobbly and uncertain as she took your cock into her mouth, wrapping her soft little lips around your shaft and groaning lustfully as soon as she felt your cock head press against her hot, wet little tongue.
He eyes went half-closed, heavy with lust, and it was only seconds later that W—your student—was bobbing her head up and down the length of your cock, drawing pleasured moans from your mouth as she pleased you with her own.
With one hand on either of your bare thighs, she was happy to bob her head up and down, and forth, over and over again. It was a gorgeous sight to watch her work; to see your cock disappear down W’s throat as she moved her mouth along the length of your twitching, throbbing shaft. The pleasure was unlike anything else you’d ever felt before, and you felt helpless beneath the splendor of the Sarkaz’s sweet little mouth.
You put your hand on her head to steady herself, and W really seemed to like that. She nudged her head against your hand, closing her eyes and humming to herself as she throated your cock; as she fellated you in her bed, now using one hand to stroke you while the other remained pressed on your thigh.
You felt yourself getting closer and closer toward your climax, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breathing as W picked up the pace; as she bobbed her head up and down with zeal, swallowing your cock and opening her eyes slowly to meet your lewd gaze. She smiled as you warned her you were close to climax, and she went faster still, her one hand squeezing your thigh while the other worked up and down your shaft.
You surprised her by suddenly reaching out to grab her hand and squeeze it, creating an intimate connection while your cock was deep in her throat. She held your hand snugly in your own, and then her deep orange eyes went wide as you started to let yourself go; as you painted the inside of W’s mouth stark white with your seed, your hot and gooey cum splattering hotly and erotically against her tongue, teeth, and gums.
For a moment, she looked like she might spit it all out—but she steeled herself, and it was only a few seconds later that you heard her swallow your pearly white, liquid mess, her throat bulging slightly with every gulp, gulp, gulp…
She took the whole of your cock down her mouth, deepthroating you suddenly and making your toes curl from the pleasure. She came down far enough to nuzzle your pubes with that pale little nose of hers, then came all the way up and off your cock with a sudden bout of coughing, her cheeks flush red with lust and embarrassment at what she’d just done.
“F-fucking hell, Teach…!” W coughed a few more times, turning her head as she did so. “Th-that was a lot… were you really that pent up, or were you trying to drown me…?!”
Your cock started to go limp against W’s pretty face, and she gave the tip of your cock another sweet and intimate kiss, once again squeezing your hand as she did so. You felt dizzy, breathless, and boneless; this was the most pleasure you’d ever felt before, and you were thrilled to be having this much fun with the ex-mercenary.
“You’d better get hard again,” she growled, grabbing your cock and slapping it against her own tongue. “Get hard again right now—I’m not finished with you yet, Teach. I need this thing inside me as soon as possible…”
You tried to tell W that you were still sensitive down there, but she wasn’t hearing any of it. The inexperienced Sarkaz continued to stroke your cock and slap it against her cheek, prompting you to gasp and groan and shake from the pleasure and the pain of what she was doing. Your reactions put a wicked grin on her face, and she seemed elated to continue, jerking you off slowly and blowing hot air against your cock, thrilled to watch it slowly but surely get harder and thicker than before.
“Finally,” she muttered under her breath, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she gripped your cock tightly. “No slacking off now, Teach… you got that?”
You were reading her loud and clear, and you groaned with pleasure as she climbed up and onto you, putting her hands on your shoulders while she straddled your lap. W ground her soaking wet pussy against your hardening cock, and she bit her lip while fondling her own breasts, looking down at you with the flushed expression never once leaving her pretty face.
“What are you staring at?” she asked, already breathless as she wiggled her hips this way and that. “You’re, ngh, embarrassing me, Teach… stop looking at me like that…”
You continued to look at her like that while letting your hands slide down to her hips, and she groaned as she bucked against your lap, your cock at full mast while she ground her dripping wet sex against your shaft.
“Ready?” she asked, and you nodded desperately before she picked herself up to make herself at home; to let you penetrate her suddenly, occupying all the space of her insides with her thick and throbbing dick.
“Holy fuck—!” W’s breath hitched as she rolled her hips against your own, her expression full of hunger and want while she quickly worked up a bounce, rocking her body against your own. Her body was trembling as you touched her; you did not know where to put your hands, opting to put one hand over W’s breast to give it a hearty squeeze, then keeping your other hand grasping W’s hip to help her ride your cock.
“Fuck me,” W groaned, tipping her head back as she rode you cowgirl, your cock pulsing up against the inside of her snug, wet pussy. “It feels amazing… and it’s so f-fucking thick, Teach…!”
The bed creaked beneath your bodies as she bounced up and down, back and forth, over and over again—a gorgeous percussion to serve alongside your melodic lovemaking. It suddenly and embarrassingly occurred to you that neither of you were using protection, and W looked back at you with a wicked little laugh tumbling from her wobbly lips.
“It’s a safe day, dummy,” she breathed. “I’m not t-trying to have any kids…”
You thought you could hear a ‘yet’ under her breath, but W simply shook her head as she squeezed your shoulder, using her free hand to touch your face and prod her thumb against your mouth. You parted your lips to welcome her thumb into your mouth, letting your tongue roll against her digit, and she giggled lewdly as she picked up the pace with her bouncing and swaying, filling her dorm room with the sounds of her impassioned grunts and groans—a sweet harmony between the erotic thumping and creaking of the bed frame and mattress beneath you.
“So,” W groaned, “that means, y-you can let it all out inside me, Teach… because… nnngh… I’m g-gonna cum… I’m gonna c-cum too soon—!”
She thrashed about wildly all of a sudden, and then she went rigid, her pussy clamping around your cock as her body worked to milk you for every last drop you could give her. You suspected W might cry out from the pleasure, but instead, it was a cute and girlish whimper that slipped from her mouth as she trembled and throbbed; as she wiggled her hips and made a mess of herself all over your crotch and the bedding beneath your lap. The poor little Sarkaz was blushing with embarrassment at the sound that escaped her mid-climax, and when her eyes met yours, it was all you needed to see before you reached a climax of your own.
You pulled W down by the hips, grunting like a beast as you let yourself go, painting the girl’s insides stark white with your seed, and W whimpered again as you came deep inside her; as your cum splattered wetly against her vaginal walls, paling them with spunk. The flustered Sarkaz wiggled in a figure-eight motion to coax you further along, panting, breathless, and sweating a little from the exertion of coitus.
“F-fucking hell, Teach,” W groaned, wiping the sweat from her brow with another wicked smile—one to chase the embarrassed grin from her lips. “You fucking painted my insides… phew… God, you’re still pent up, aren’t you?” She chuckled lowly, reaching out to rub her damp thumb against your cheek, as if she was marking you as her own. “We’d better keep going, make sure we get it out of our systems… don’t you think?”
Of course, that was easier said than done. Even W struggled, putting her hands on your chest and pretending she could actually stand up and move without impedance.
“Once I’m able to move my legs again, you’d better watch out,” she promised, that familiar mischievousness sparkling in her eyes again. “Your life is over, Teach…” ❤
* * *
Perhaps it really was over for you—but only in a particular sense.
An intimate evening of fun and games passed, and a hungry morning followed. As you made breakfast for both you and W, you considered the fact that maybe it was your professional life with the Sarkaz that was well and truly finished.
Your single life, too. That was over and done with. The true nature of your and W’s relationship, with all its complexities and unspoken emotions, would soon be revealed. In the meantime, she happily wrapped her arms around your waist, her cheek pressed against your back as she scrunched up her nose at the slightly burned smell emanating from the pan.
“Don’t fuck up the eggs,” she complained, her spade-tipped tail swishing this way and that. “I want a boyfriend who can cook.”
Boyfriend? You grinned to yourself, and she rolled her eyes at your reaction. The two of you could hear W’s phone buzz again in the next room, but just like before, you ignored it.
“I expect some damn good eggs,” W said. “And I expect lots of praise every single day! And, um, let’s not tell anyone about this just yet; I don’t want that bitch Kal’tsit giving me more work because she thinks I’m slacking off, and I don’t want to catch you flirting with anyone else! I don’t think I’m asking for much, Teach—um, I mean… sweetie.”
She sure could ramble sometimes. Not that you minded, really. You thought it was cute. You thought she was cute, and you were more than happy to tell her as such.W smiled again, her tail whipping about in a frenzy, damn near knocking things off the shelves and the counter behind her. “We’ll work on the nicknames tonight, after you move your things into my dorm,” she said, wrapping her arms around one of yours, pouting cutely. “This bad student can only be a good girl if you’re around—so you’d better not leave, okay…?” ❤W’s cellphone buzzed once more, and she growled furiously as she went to throw it against the wall. Whatever the hell it was, it had better be good. After all, it was interrupting her private time with her new man.
* * *