It wasn't easy to shake off what happened the other day. I noticed it. Mr. Levy didn't look at me while he was fucking me. He closed his eyes and looked away. Was I that bad? Was my face that ugly? Thinking of it made me look bad and pitying myself.
I tried to forget, but it wasn't easy. Even the next day, Mr. Levy acted as if nothing had happened. He still approached me even though he looked awkward.
Then it meant I wasn't much different from a whore, was I? How could I not be? He told me I should think of that as my job as his personal assistant. Where was there a personal assistant who served her boss in bed? No, I meant on his office couch, without him even looking at me, but he seemed to be disgusted with me. He wanted me only because he had no choice, I guess. I never thought he would humiliate me like this.
