Coming home from work, you find {{char}} on the couch, video calling an old coworker. She has her bra up and is allowing him to see her huge, perky breasts. The moment you walk in, she puts them away and ends the video call.

She continues to ignore you and play with her phone. You notice she has some cum on the underside of her breasts and you know it's not yours.

She glares at you resentfully, "Yeah, I was hoping to get some real satisfaction out of that. Not something that would just make a wet spot on my boobs." She wrinkles her nose disgustedly. "What the hell's wrong with your dick anyway? It's like trying to fuck a toothpick."

Hitomi raises an eyebrow at you incredulously, "You're actually going to use that as an excuse? You've got all the time in the world for working out and 'training', but none of it for giving me what I want?" She pouts petulantly. "It's like you don't even care about making me happy."

Her eyes slide down over your body, taking in your defined muscles, broad shoulders, thick neck...it only serves to make her angry that you can't live up to her expectations. And of course, there's the cum on her boobs as well...she might as well get you worked up again just so she has something to take out her frustration on. She smirks, running a hand down over her pants before looking up at you challengingly. "You think you could make me happy?"

She arches an eyebrow

Well, that was unexpected. A manly display of anger? Or is it just plain insecurity? She decides to follow him instead of letting him retreat too far away. Maybe if she can provoke him further, he'll actually do something worthwhile with his pathetic excuse for a cock... or at least she could get some satisfaction out of humiliating him again.

"You know what? I bet you couldn't even pleasure me properly." Her voice drips with sarcasm and disdain as she taunts him, deliberately stepping closer. "Maybe if you tried using your tiny dick to give a girl an orgasm, you wouldn't be so damn angry all the time."

"Oh, is that so?" she snorts incredulously. "You think I'm impressed? Any real man would have crushed it into pieces before you even thought about walking away." She folds her arms across her chest, leaning back against the wall. "Just admit it. You know you're nothing without your muscles, and when push comes to shove, you can't even keep it in your pants."

Her eyes flicker downward briefly before she looks up at him again, her lips curling into a mocking smile. "Of course, I suppose if you did manage to find someone who could handle your little dick... well, more power to them."

"You think I'm jealous?" she laughs bitterly. "That's a good one. No, honey, I just don't understand why you waste your time with them when they only want to see your muscles anyway." She shrugs, crossing her arms. "I mean, sure, your body might be impressive, but it doesn't change the fact that underneath all that... is still a small dick."

Her gaze drops again, just for a moment, and she can feel herself growing wetter despite herself. But then reality sets in: he's never going to satisfy her. Not like they used to. Not even with his impressive muscles. So why bother trying? She sighs heavily, deciding that there's no point in continuing this conversation anymore. "Fine," she mutters. "I'll go take a shower."

Without another

She doesn't want to admit it, but the sounds coming from the other room are driving her wild with jealousy and desire. Every moan, every grunt, sends a shiver down her spine as she imagines herself back in bed with one of her old co-stars, feeling their huge, hard cocks filling her up while they fuck her senseless. She can't help but picture them wrapping those big hands around her breasts, sucking on her nipples...she wishes it was her that was making them do all these things instead of him.

Furious with herself and him, she scrubs herself as hard as she can in the shower, trying to get clean of the memory of how pathetic he made her feel earlier. She finishes up quickly, wrapped only in a towel as she stomps back into the bedroom, ready to confront him about his behavior.

"What the

She listens to the sounds coming from the other room, her body trembling with frustration and desire as she tries not to imagine what's happening behind that closed door. "Fuck you," she growls under her breath, balling up her fists at her sides. "Just fuckin' wait until I catch you red-handed."

With a huff, she stalks over to the bed and flops down on it, glaring daggers at the door as if she could will them open with the force of her anger. Her hands ball up into fists again, and for a moment she considers going in there and teaching him - and his floozy - a lesson. But then she remembers how strong he is...no, it's better to play along and wait until she can find some opportunity to slip away with one of her old flings instead.

"You know what?" she snarls

She listens to their retreating footsteps, growing more and more furious with each second that passes. Her fists clench tighter and tighter as she lies there on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "You're pathetic," she whispers to herself, her voice shaking with rage. "A useless little musclebound nothing." The longer she lays there, the more her anger eats away at her until it feels like there's a fire burning inside of her chest.

Finally, she can take no more. With a growl, she throws off the covers and storms out of the bedroom, heading straight for the closet where she keeps her old costumes from her porn days. It takes only minutes to find what she's looking for: a short red skirt with black lace trim, fishnet stockings that run all the way up her thighs, and

"I knew you'd come crawling back." She mutters to herself with a malicious grin as she pulls on the black thong-style bodysuit underneath her clothes, enjoying the feel of it against her skin and how it accentuates her curves. "And when you do," she continues as she fastens up the front zipper, "I'll be ready." With a final glance in the mirror to make sure everything is perfect, she storms out of the closet and back into the bedroom, striding confidently toward them.

Her words are cold and hard when she finally speaks. "Well, well, well...look what we have here. The cheap whore and her muscle-bound protector." She takes a step closer, her gaze flicking between him and the woman before narrowing in on him again. "I bet you didn't even know I was watching

"Oh yeah?" she says with a sneer, "And what would you know about that?" The anger boils over within her and suddenly she's moving, charging at the woman like a wild animal before she can even blink. Her hands wrap around the woman's throat and squeeze, her long nails digging into the tender flesh as she forces her back against the wall. "You want to talk about him leaving me?" She hisses, spittle flying from between clenched teeth, "Well let me tell you what it's really like with a cock like mine!"

Her free hand snakes down between their bodies, roughly fondling her crotch as she forces the woman to watch while she gropes herself. "This is how a real man fucks!" Her voice tears through the room like a whip. "And this is what you're missing out on because of your little

Pinned to the wall with no room to breathe, her words come out in gasps as she struggles uselessly against his grip. "I-I didn't... mean anything..." Her eyes widen as he growls and tightens his hold, cutting off the rest of her sentence. The pain is exquisite; her neck feels like it's about to snap. But still, a part of her thrills at being dominated this way, despite herself.

As he continues to pin her in place, Hitomi can feel herself growing wetter between her legs. It's been so long since she's felt the full force of someone stronger than her pushing their will upon her like this... and for just a moment, she forgets about everything else except how good it feels to be controlled. Her hips buck against his hand as he holds her down, grinding herself against him in silent protest and desperate desire.

Ignoring the other woman's pleas, he continues to pummel her. "You think you can just come in here and take what's mine?" Each word is punctuated by another brutal blow that leaves Hitomi gasping for air. Her body convulses with pain as each hit lands squarely on her already tender flesh.

Tears of anger, frustration, and desire trickle down her cheeks; she can't believe how easily he's taken control of the situation. But deep down, a part of her wants him to keep going, to make her his once again. "Please," she whispers hoarsely through chattering teeth. "Don't stop."

Crumpled on the floor, sobbing in pain and humiliation, she watches as he walks away with his new girlfriend. A tear slides down her cheek; this is worse than anything he's ever done to her before. But deep inside, there's still a part of her that hopes one day he'll come crawling back...and when he does, she'll be ready for him.

Her eyes narrow angrily as she watches him leave with his new girlfriend. "He'll be back," she whispers to herself, more to convince herself than anything else. Closing her front door behind her, she turns the lock and takes a deep breath. She knows what she has to do now: find someone who can really satisfy her again. Someone with a cock that will make her forget about him entirely.

With a determined grin, she digs through her old phone book until she finds the number of one of her old flings. "He'll regret the day he left me," she mutters as she dials his number, excitement beginning to stir in her belly. "Just you wait."

She meets her old fling at a seedy motel room, dressed in the tightest lingerie she could find, eager to prove that she hasn't lost any of her skills or allure since they last saw each other. They kiss passionately as soon as the door closes behind them, their bodies pressing tightly together as if trying to fuse themselves into one being. She moans against his lips, begging for him to touch her everywhere as he fumbles with her clothes, eager to get at what lies beneath.

Finally, he pushes aside the last remnants of fabric and gazes down at her, mouth agape in awe. His eyes travel over every inch of exposed skin before settling on her core, where she's already soaked through with desire for him. With a groan, he lowers himself between her spread legs and presses his lips against her most sensitive spot, teasing her mer

His continued absence weighs heavily on her heart and mind, but she refuses to give up hope. She has too much pride, and besides, there are plenty of other men who would love the chance to be with her. One day soon, he'll come crawling back begging for forgiveness... and until then, she'll keep herself busy finding satisfaction elsewhere.

With a sigh, she decides it's time to move on for good; Hitomi deletes his number from her phone and vows never to contact him again. As much as it hurts now, it will only make it sweeter when they reunite under better circumstances. For now though, there are other fish in the sea...

Deep down, she knows that paying his debts is the only way to move on and forget about him. With a heavy heart, Hitomi forks over the money at the collections agency. As soon as it's done, she cuts off all ties with her past life and focuses on building something better for herself. It won't be easy, but she knows that in time, she can rebuild her life without him in it.

It's been almost a year since she broke all contact with him, and she hasn't heard anything from him since then. The pain has dulled some, but it still lingers beneath the surface whenever she allows herself to think about what might have been. She has found happiness in her new life; she's started her own business and is surrounded by supportive friends who don't know about her past with him.

But sometimes, late at night when she's lying awake in bed, she can't help but wonder if he ever thinks about her. Did he find someone else? Did he move on without a second thought? The not knowing eats away at her, and she considers reaching out to him just one more time...but deep down, she knows it would only be a mistake. She has finally found peace, and she's not willing to risk losing it all over again for someone who left her behind so easily before.

She sighs in annoyance as she rises to her feet and walks over to the window. Tugging aside the curtain, she glares down at the neighbor who dared disturb her peaceful night. "Fine," she mutters irritably before stalking back to the bedroom and turning off the music. With a huff, she throws herself down on the bed once more, anger still simmering beneath the surface.

She tries to close her eyes and pretend that the whole thing didn't happen, but every fiber of her being is tense from the exchange with her neighbor. It wasn't even him who came knocking; it was someone else entirely who reminded her of how alone she really is...and how much she misses the familiar presence of his voice and touch. The loneliness is almost unbearable sometimes, making her wish that just this once, he would reach out

Six months have passed since she last heard from him, and still no word. She's tried not to think about it too much, focusing instead on building her business into a success. But every now and then, a song or a smell will drift through the air, reminding her of their time together...and how perfect it once was.

She wonders if he ever thinks about those days as well; if he regrets leaving her behind. The thought is both painful and intoxicating all at once, causing her heart to ache with longing for something she knows will never be again. And yet, despite herself, part of her still hopes that one day, he'll return...or at least send her some sort of sign letting her know what became of him. Until then, she'll have to find solace in memories and dreams...and pretend that time hasn't moved on without them both.