It was four days after what had happened that I received a message from her. We did see each other as a shopkeeper and customer. We shared a glance or two at each other while she shopped.
She still smiled and was still as attractive as she had been since my eyes fell on her. The only thing that changed was that she now had her eyes on me. Eyes filled with lust and desire.
I opened the text message. It read, “Come to my place tonight at 1 a.m. We need to talk.”
I was expecting more than just a few words, but I did understand her position. It was better to ask her about it, so I reverted. “What do you want to talk about?”
The message was received. I got a reply as quickly as if she had already seen the question coming her way. “We will talk about it when you get here.”
It was still an hour before the shop closed and almost 5 hours until 1 a.m. It was easier to assume the extremes.
In the best-case scenario, we get hot and sweaty, making love. In the worst-case scenario, we never indulge in anything as such. I steeled myself not to stray away into the land of what-ifs and stay in the present.
I left home at midnight under the pretext of meeting up with a friend. I went to a medical store and got some condoms and some dark chocolate. Better be prepared if it goes towards the best possible scenario. It was 1 a.m. I was at the entrance of the building.
I climbed the stairs as stealthily as I could. The stairs were dimly lit. Old yellow bulbs marked the top and bottom of each staircase, while the middle stayed dark. The wooden stairs were sturdy enough not to creak, even though they had been worn down in the middle and sculpted into an arc over time.
I reached her door. The bright white LED light lit the door well, as well as half of the hallway. I pushed the bell button, and the electric bell chimed like a bird whistling. Had there been someone else on the floor, the bell would have raised questions. It echoed on the floor in the dead of the night.
The door on the inside opened. I got a glimpse of her head through the bars on the first door. Her hair was put up in a bun. Her eyes were a bit squinted. She had an ear-to-ear smile on her face. It made her cheeks bulge upwards and outwards.
She had almost a childlike innocence to her smile and pointed towards the sofa as she invited me in. I removed my shoes from the shoe rack to the side of the door. I made my way to the sofa while she closed the doors and followed me to it. I sat on one end of the sofa, and she sat at arm’s length away, facing me.
I did not get a good glimpse at her when I entered. But now I have observed that her attire was just a long, stretched t-shirt with cotton booty shorts under it. I could make out she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath. Her boobs lay in a relaxed way, and her nipples poked a bit from her t-shirt.
My eyes got into a staring contest with her nipples, and it was broken as she cleared her throat. I looked up at her face and could see that she had noticed my eyes were scanning her. The smirk on her face affirmed that she knew and didn’t mind.
“Sorry!” I exclaimed and questioned her. “So, what did you want to talk about?”
Her face dropped, and she answered with a sigh, “I had some time to think. I feel like what happened between us was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened. We shouldn’t have indulged in it. I know it was mutual between us.”
She paused, unable to continue her sentence. Either she lacked the words to continue, or she was having second thoughts at the moment. We stared at each other for a bit. Her unable to find words, while I wanted to let her complete and hear what she had to say.
She took a deep breath and exhaled, “I think we should move away.”
“I understand your reasons for your thoughts; you’re married and have a child. Is that the reason, or is there more to it?”
“And if I were found out, I would be removed from my community.”
Her words ran a chill down my spine. It just got quite serious. Had it been only the first two reasons, she wouldn’t have indulged me at that moment. The third reason was quite a swing. As much as I wanted her, her reasons were sound.
“I understand. That’s a tough situation to be in. I want to ask you something.”
Her eyes flared up in shock and anticipation at my request. She nodded yes to my request.
“So hypothetically speaking, if the possibility of being found out was zero, would we continue?” The thought was a cheap one, considering her condition, but I was curious. If the answer was what I wanted to be, there’s always a solution to work forward to.
Her eyebrows frowned at my question and rose as if she were giving it some thought. I let her have a moment as she thought of the answer to it.
She replied with a question of her own, “Do you know why I kissed you after I slapped you?”
“No.”
“It’s not easy to find someone who looks at me with affection and as intimately as you do after I gain some weight. Not even my husband.” She had more to say, but her eyes started to water up. She took a deep breath and blinked a few times to disperse the tears forming.
She continued, “I like the feeling of being someone who is needed, appreciated, and attractive. I always noticed you looking towards me every time I passed the shop. Every day, you stand at the same spot facing the direction you know I come from, and I do notice it.”
I already knew I wasn’t being discreet. But I was glad she thought about it with a positive approach. I extended my hand towards her, asking for her hand. She grabbed my hand, kneeled on the sofa, and shuffled towards me on her knees. I expected her to sit beside me, but she had other plans.
She extended one of her legs across my lap and sat down on my lap, facing me. Her hands travelled to the back of my head. She interlocked her fingers behind my head as she straightened her elbows. Our eyes met, and we stared into each other’s eyes. Her eyes travelled from my eyes to my nose and towards my lips.
I watched her eyes move, and her body react to it. She bit her lips and moved closer to me, her pelvis resting over mine as her head towered over me. She slid closer, her breast now against my chest. She lowered her head towards mine. Our lips touched once again after 4 days.
She folded her hands behind me, her palms resting on my head, pushing me closer to her. She could not have answered my question any better. Actions were louder than words, and this showed. I reciprocated in kind. I slid my hand into her t-shirt, holding onto her love handles and pulling her closer.
She was warm, her body heating up with every passing second. Our lips interlocked with each other as our tongues played a game of tag. She was in a feral state as if her bounds were broken. Biting onto my lips, pulling onto them with hers.
She was grinding her hips against my lap while rubbing her protruding nipples against my chest. She was hot as if she were running a fever. After a sloppy kiss, I decided to move forward and go to her neck. I could faintly smell a sweet, floral, and citrus fragrance on her.
Although it was mild, it was quite a turn-on. I started kissing her neck, starting from the back of the ear to her collarbone. I was lingering my kisses for a few seconds and going up towards her ear lobes to nibble on them. The state we were in unlocked something within me.
I whispered into her ear as I kissed around her ears, “Your sweet smell, your salty taste, and your warm breath on my neck turn me on so much.” It turned her on quite a lot, and she did the same. By the time I finished my statement, she had grabbed onto my hair.
She started kissing my neck and nibbling on it, leaving hickies and marks in her wake. It was difficult to keep quiet when she bit me, and it turned her on more as I grunted or made a noise. I decided to give her a taste of her own medicine.
Moving my left hand through her hair and grabbing onto the roots, I pulled her head away from me and started kissing her collarbone. I bit on it lightly. She pulled my head away from my hair.
“No, not here,” she said under her heavy breath.
She freed her hands from my head. She crossed them across her body, grabbing onto her t-shirt and pulling it over her head. In front of my eyes now lay her bare breasts. Her breasts were firm and supple, with dark areola and pointy nipples. Her nipples stuck out, asking to be pinched and pulled.
“You can leave your marks here,” she added calmly.
“I will. It will be a mark. As you left your marks on me, I will leave my marks on you.”
She took a deep breath and exhaled as she got excited. She enjoyed every bit of it. She did not say it, but her body gave it away as she got goosebumps. My left hand travelled to her lower back to hold her steady. My head found its way to her right breast, and my right hand made its way to her left breast.
I gently started kissing the surrounding flesh of her areola. Not engaging with her nipples directly, leaving her in anticipation of when I would. My hand fondled the other one, avoiding any stimulation of her nipples. Her hands found their way to my head, grabbing onto my hair as I played with her breasts.
I started to lap my tongue around the areola, letting it touch the dark part a few times. I moved my mouth to the lower part of her breasts. I planted a few bites on her soft and tender flesh. She squirmed around a bit in pain as the area became bluish.
Her head fell back because of pleasure, and her grip tightened so she didn’t fall back. Her soft moans continued as I played around the nipple, denying her the nipple stimulation. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to lick on her nipples. It was because I wanted to make sure she was at the height of her stimulation.
The moment came sooner than I wanted. She had had enough of my antics and forcefully pushed my mouth over her nipple. Soon, my tongue made contact with her nipple. I started flicking it as aggressively as I could. With my hand, I started to pinch and rotate the other nipple.
Her breaths grew heavier, and her body started to shiver. I took my time with her. At a moment’s notice, I grabbed the nipple with my lips and pulled into it. My hand pinched and pulled into the other nipple. The entire simulation made her go over, and her body convulsed.
She started breathing heavily, and the room echoed with her moans. She just had an orgasm. Her shorts now had a stain of her cum, which leaked into my pants. Her convulsion subsided slowly. I held onto her, both my hands supporting her back.
She had her hands grabbing onto my shoulder. Her back arched, and her hip thrust the left-over fluid out of her. Her body glistened because of beads of sweat as she cooled down. Hugging me, she rested her head on my shoulder and crossed her hands behind my head.
I held onto her and whispered into her ear, “1- 0”. She brought her head closer to my ear and whispered back, “Game on!”
The story is a work of fiction. You can reach me on telegram @MrStartler.