They gave me a second look here, and most people decided I’m someone they want in their life. Thorn Falls is good for me in so many ways. I mean, this city’s intricate inner politics are insane—they gave me a hell of a scare last weekend. But I got the memo. I understand their vibe. They want to keep what they do private—not because it’s wrong, not because it hurts anyone, but because outside judgement would disturb their inner peace.

I get it. I wouldn’t want everything I do with Keller, or to Keller known to the entire world. Even if Keller seems to take a certain pleasure in showing it off to his little circle. And I don’t seem to mind.

On Thursday, he finally has the patience to teach me to blow his cock, rather than simply fucking my mouth. He covers it with a delicious, tangy, fruity substance and lets me lap at it like it’s a lollipop, occasionally directing my mouth, my hands, my tongue. I very much like it. I think he’s about to come, his legs so tight they lift up from the floor, but instead, he abruptly pulls me to my feet, turns me around, and bends me over before plunging in my pussy.

It’s so, so fast, and easy. The folds are always drenched in his presence, only waiting for his cock. And now, he can’t get enough of it—and he certainly doesn’t neglect my ass.

It’s fair to say that his two orgasms per day guideline was in fact, not exaggerated. Most days, we exceed it. And half the time, I’m the one demanding it.

On Friday, I’m babysitting Octavia for the first time. I’m a little intimidated to find myself alone with a kid I know next to nothing about, even with a written set of guidelines.

“Hey, Vivi. What would you like to do this afternoon?”

“Can you draw a unicorn?” she asks, somehow doubtful, like she doesn’t truly believe I could manage such a feat.

“I absolutely can draw a unicorn,” I assure her confidently.

“My teacher told us to draw our favorite animal. Mine is unicorns, but I don’t know how. Can you show me?”

I hesitate a little, because, objectively, I am rather good at drawing, and I have a fair amount of practice at unicorns from my early teens, but I don’t want to draw something completely out of her reach and discourage her. I opt for a middle ground; there’s no point shading and rendering a perfect horse musculature, but I’m not going to condescend to the kid and draw stick figures. If she wants to learn, I’ll teach her.

Retrieving my favorite notebook—that one that matches hers—I take about five minutes to sketch a unicorn, while she gasps in shock.

I grin. “Want me to show you how?”