Vent about home life

You decide to vent. The words come easier with Ruby than they ever would with anyone else.

“Natasha again,” you say, keeping your voice low even though the kitchen is empty. “This morning was the usual. I tried being nice about it. Offered to take it slow, just a kiss, nothing more. She shut me down cold, told me to get ready for work, then walked out. It’s like the fact we have not had sex in months is somehow my fault for still wanting it.”

You pour the coffee, the bitterness matching your mood.

“She has always been vanilla. Soft lights, missionary, done before I really get going. And she has made it clear more than once that I am too much for her. Too long, too thick. Now she will not even try. Just distance and excuses and that look like I am the problem for still having a cock that works well.”

Ruby listens without interrupting, that new flirty edge still present in the way she watches you, but her expression softens with genuine recognition. She knows this version of the story already from the staff socials. Hearing the fresh details only seems to draw her closer.