Fu Jincheng's apartment was quieter than I remembered.
Not empty—never empty—but hushed in the way places become when they are waiting for something to happen.
The city outside pressed its lights against the windows, rain blurring neon into soft streaks of color. Inside, everything was composed. Ordered. Controlled.
Just like him.
"You look tired," he said as he poured tea, his back to me.
"I've had a long week," I replied.
That was true. It was also incomplete.
I sat on the edge of the couch, spine straight, hands folded in my lap like I was preparing for an examination. I had dressed carefully—nothing provocative, nothing childish. Something neutral. Something that said I belong here, but I am not careless.
Fu Jincheng handed me the cup. Our fingers brushed.
The air shifted.
He noticed. Of course he did.
"You don't have to be so tense," he said mildly, sitting across from me instead of beside me. A small mercy. Or a strategic pause. "You're safe here."
Safe.
The word rang hollower than it used to.
"I know," I said. "I trust you."
His eyes lifted to mine, sharp with interest. Trust, I had learned, was his favorite currency.
We spoke first about ordinary things—upcoming events, a potential internship, Jin's adjustment to being back in China. He mentioned his son casually, as if gauging my reaction. I kept my face smooth, my tone light.
"Jin is… energetic," I said.
A faint smile touched his mouth. "That's one way to describe him."
There was a pause. Not awkward. Deliberate.
"You've changed again," Fu Jincheng said.
I took a slow breath. "People don't stop changing."
Of course motherfucker. People change.
"No," he agreed. "But not everyone grows more guarded."
I met his gaze. "Maybe I've learned discernment."
That made him laugh softly.
"Yes," he said. "You have."
He stood, walked toward the window, then turned back to me—not slowly, not dramatically, but with intention that felt heavier than theatrics.
"Thandeka," he said, using my name like an offering, "you know I've been patient."
My chest tightened.
"I've never pressured you," he continued.
"I've never asked for more than you were willing to give."
Nkosi yami (My God), he's finally doing it.
"That's true," I said. And it was. Which made this harder.
"But patience," he said calmly, "is not the same as restraint."
He stopped a few steps away from me. Close enough that I could smell his cologne. Close enough that the space between us felt charged, alive. And the cologne made it worse. It made me want to devour him whole but..
"I don't want to be reckless," he said. "With you."
I stood.
It was instinctive. A quiet assertion of ground.
"I appreciate your honesty," I said carefully.
"Truly."
His eyes searched my face. "But?"
"But I am not ready," I said. "And I don't want to make a choice that turns something… valuable into something complicated."
Something flickered across his expression—surprise, then calculation, then something like respect.
"You're afraid of me," he said.
"No," I replied. "I'm afraid of myself."
It's because I was. I was afraid of what I would become. And what I would eradicate—a family man, a loving wife, beautiful children but worst of all, Jin.
The truth settled between us.
"I don't want my first time to be about power," I continued, voice steady even as my heart raced. "Or obligation. Or imbalance. I don't want it to cost me my footing."
Silence.
Then he nodded once.
"That is… wise," he said.
Relief washed through me, sharp and almost dizzying.
"I don't want to lose what we have," I added gently. "I value your guidance. Your support. I don't want this to become something that changes how you see me—or how I see myself."
He stepped back.
"You surprise me," Fu Jincheng said quietly. "Most people would not walk away from this."
"I'm not most people," I said.
"No," he agreed. "You're not."
He moved aside, creating space. An exit.
"You may go," he said. "With my respect."
I bowed my head slightly. "Thank you."
As I left his apartment, my hands were steady—but my legs trembled all the way home.
The next few weeks were… careful.
Our interactions returned to their previous rhythm—professional, composed, layered with things unsaid. If anything, he treated me with more distance, more formality. I was grateful for that. I needed the boundary to hold.
And then there was Jin.
If Fu Jincheng was discipline, Jin was disruption.
"Okay," Jin said one afternoon, leaning against a vending machine like he had nothing better to do with his life, "you've been weird."
"I'm always weird," I replied.
"No," he said. "You've been strategic weird."
I sighed. "What do you want, Jin?"
"Permission," he said. "To exist near you without my father thinking I'm doing something suspicious."
My stomach tightened.
"You talk about me in front of him," I said.
He blinked. "I talk about everything in front of him."
"That's exactly the problem," I said. "Please. Just… don't mention me. Not casually. Not jokingly."
He studied me, then nodded slowly.
"Professional boundaries," he said. "Got it."
"Thank you."
"And," he added with a grin, "this is the part where we become secret friends, right?"
"Lowkey," I corrected. "Very lowkey."
"Even better," he said. "I thrive in secrecy."
We started hanging out differently after that.
No campus cafés. No obvious routines. We met late, walked aimlessly, shared street food and stupid stories. We talked about movies, about music, about the strange feeling of being almost-but-not-quite at home.
With Jin, I felt lighter.
And that scared me too.
The night it happened, it wasn't planned.
"Come over," Jin texted. "I've had a day."
"So have I," I replied. "I don't have energy for nonsense."
"Perfect," he said. "I have alcohol and zero expectations."
I should have said no. But you know me, typical Thandeka Dlamini.
Instead, I brought a bottle of wine.
His apartment was messier than his father's. Softer. Lived in. Shoes kicked off near the door. A jacket draped over a chair like it had been dropped mid-thought.
"Make yourself comfortable," he said, already opening the wine.
We drank. Slowly at first. Then less carefully.
The conversation drifted—from ridiculous childhood stories to deep, unexpected confessions.
"I don't think my father knows how to be human without an agenda," Jin said at one point, staring at the ceiling.
"I think he does," I replied. "He just doesn't trust it."
Jin laughed. "You talk about him like you know him."
I froze for half a second, then shrugged. But dammit, I knew almost everything fucking thing about him.
"Everyone knows him."
I lied. I always lied.
"Not like that," Jin said. But he didn't press.
We put on movies—something old and dramatic, then something terrible and loud. We mocked the acting. Quoted lines badly. Drank more.
At some point, I realized I was sitting closer to him than I had intended. That our knees were touching. That neither of us had moved away.
"You're quiet," he said.
"I'm relaxed," I replied.
He smiled. "That's rare for you."
I leaned my head back against the couch, laughing softly.
"Don't get used to it."
He looked at me—not like his father did, not assessing or weighing—but openly, warmly, like the sight of me pleased him.
Something shifted.
My heart began pounding under my chest. I swear I could feel the pulse under my feet.
The room felt warmer. Smaller.
I became aware of my body in a way that had nothing to do with strategy or control.
I took a breath.
And then—
…I felt an abrupt vibration crawl down my spine like a lightning strike.
I fell dirty. Really really dirty.
He looked me deep in the eyes while slowly leaning towards me. I knew what was about to happen and I was willing.
Now! I didn't know I was a slut for neck kisses until Jin swayed his magic tongue on my neck. He kissed me gently– with passion.
"Don't leave marks..." I whispered. "Shh" Jin silenced me but it felt more like "let me intoxicated you baby, let me cook"
He kissed me, on and on and on until the kisses started to descend to my belly. I didn't even realise that my top was unbuttoned. I moaned to the passionate kisses and they only grew louder.
Finally, we get to the good part.
Jin carried me while splitting my legs. He was hard and fuck, I was wet. But its my first time.
"Go easy on me, it's my first time" I whispered in a sulking tone.
He gazed at me with a grin. "You're tight. Perfect "
He walked into his bedroom, my legs relaxed on his lap. Tongue to tongue has never made such loud sounds. And the moans made it worse.
He dropped me on the bed, taking his shirt off and biting it. Abs, the motherfucking eight packs. He stared at me without blinking, taking his pants off.
The size of his dick scared me. It looked enormous.
He's gonna rip it.
I meticulously watched him, gazed at him, admired how his physique was so fit and sexy. We locked eye contact and it was my turn to do the 'striping naked' in the sexy way too.
I took off my sweater top and raised my feet to the ceiling, and took off my pants like a professional pornstar. Where on earth did I get those guts?
He gasped. "You have a thick vagina, damn." He remarked in amazement.
I made him hard just by exposing my pussy. I'm going to enjoy this.
"You like it huh" there goes naughty me trying to make him go harder.
He leaned. He leaned closer and closer. I spread my legs. We locked eye contact as he muffed me. He slurped my pussy. My clit was wet and painful. He was biting me, that beast, that monster was biting me.
He inserted each finger one by one in me, That pleased me but not only that, he was moaning, like intentionally moaning. He just knew that turned me on. The back and forth, in and out made me moan to loudly. The neighbours were probably getting free erotic porn sounds for free. But who gives a fuck right now.
I was up to five fingers and Jin made sure to make my hole big enough for his huge dick.
The excitement scared me.
He licked my clit then my belly then my neck then exchanged saliva, that's right– we French kissed.
I stuck it in me.
I screamed.
I cried.
But I loved the pain. I love the way Jin handled me. I loved Jin.
He pushed.
Pounded and pounded. I wish I could say harder but it hurts. I bit my finger and shut my eyes while he pounded on me. He lip kissed me harder this time. He was enjoying it.
"Fuck me" I screamed while crying.
He grinned in satisfaction.
He went on me harder. My moans went up like a 4G speaker. My oh my!
"Hit the doggy " he commanded.
My body automatically switched positions. It was like a system, abiding by every rule Jin commands.
He held my waist like he was marinating a really big turkey. Spanked my ass and whispered despicable words that made my soul burn.
I was squinting. I was really wet. Half of the bed was wet and I was part of it. I tried pushing him away because what! I was hurting even though I asked for it. But I wouldn't let me, he grabbed my hands and grppied then away the pillows that held his scent.
He pounded slowly but hard once more.
"You make me feel so alive Thandeka. Where have you been? Making me suffer so much. I will punish you today." He chuckled.
"Go easy on me Jin. I'm...ahh!" I screamed in pain.
But I loved it.
He carried me and pinned me against the wall. He pounded up and down while sulking my titties. "I own you now" he said his voice trembling from the pounding.
"You beast! You said we wouldn't... ahh! We... ahh!" I yelped.
"Shut up! You're mine." He looked me dead in the eyes and let my pussy water drip down his legs.
We french kissed again and again. Then finally, he dropped me.
He stared at me while panting.
"It wouldn't be fair if we stopped without a blow job now, wouldn't it?" He smirked and commanded me to suck it.
What did it taste like? I was about to find out.
I licked it like it was a lavish meal from a 5 star hotel. He stared at me in disbelief. Was I doing it wrong?
"You really know how to blow job.... ahhh... you watch too much porn." He remarked with a grin.
"Now you'll live it."
The sex went on for two hours, with heavy breathing, pounding, sweating and moaning.
It was like a dream come true except, I never dreamt of it.
The next morning, I woke up to a ready outfit on Jin's bed and an exquisite breakfast. We were like the pretty couple, but we weren't dating. Can't friends just casually kiss and fuck? Come on.