In continuation of Story 105.When she woke up she felt his arm on her chest. He was still in bed and was holding her in embrace. They were spooning. She closed her eyes and shifted closer to him, enjoying the warmth of his body next to her.
The last time, he had climbed out of bed before she woke up.
This time was different in so many ways despite the common fact that he had called out someone else’s name as he came into her.
She could live with that, for now, she thought.
How long would this relationship continue? she wondered.
It was wrong to get involved with a client, but it was already too late. Her thoughts went back to the previous night. He had made love to her; it was different as compared to the last time when it was sex filled with lust.
Sex, she was used to; being made love to was new to her.
She tried to slip out of his embrace without waking him up, but she felt him stir as she moved his hand. She turned to look at him and saw that he was wide awake, staring at her.
Without saying a word, he pulled her closer and kissed her on the mouth.
Her first morning kiss!
She had always wondered how couples could kiss with a night-long breath, without rinsing their mouth. It had always disgusted her.
But, now, as he kissed her on the mouth and she opened her mouth to welcome his tongue, she felt a deep connection with him.
As if he was sharing a part of his soul through the morning kiss.
She kissed him back, without caring how her breath smelled or how his did.
He paused and looked at her, his eyes seeking permission. She nodded, and he turned away from her to take out condom from bedside drawer.
They had not put on their clothes, which saved time. And, as he took her once again; she knew she could keep doing this forever.
He fell asleep again, with his head resting on her chest.
Unlike last time, he had not cried this time. Neither at night nor in the morning. She wondered whether like these small changes between the first time and this time; would he, perhaps, stop calling out someone else’s name as he climaxed? She told herself that he would and then she fell asleep too.
When she woke up again, he was not in bed. She climbed out of bed and put on the dress he had given her. It did look good on her, she thought as she looked in the mirror.
She stepped out of the bedroom and found him sitting at the bar, a half-filled glass of whisky sitting in front of him. She shook her head and walked towards him. Yesterday’s drinks, especially the vodka that she had from his mouth had been too much for her and her head hurt. She wanted to join him at the bar and have one drink. However, before she could reach the bar, he turned around to look at her.
“See you tonight?” he asked, his eyes expressionless. She stopped walking and looked for a hint of emotion, she found none.
“You need to call the agency” she said and turned around to leave, hoping that he would call out to her; or at least walk her to the door, kiss her before she left but he did not move. When she reached the door, and turned around to look at him, he was taking a sip of whisky.
What was she thinking! She walked out and closed the door behind her.
He had never done this before. Spent the night in bed with a woman.
When he had seen her step out of the elevator he was disappointed with her choice of clothing; in addition to that she was wearing make-up. She had ruined his image of her. He wanted to send her back but that face, the striking resemblance! He could not ask her to leave.
He had stepped inside the house and asked her to get rid of the clothes and take a shower to get rid of the stink of the perfume she was wearing. When she was in the shower, he picked up her dress and brassier and threw them in garbage can. The dress made her look like a whore and he told her so.
He had assumed that she would be offended, but her reaction surprised him.
He felt aroused when he saw her step out of the bathroom wearing a bathrobe, water dripping from her wet hair. He wanted to take her then and there, but he did not; instead he walked to her and kissed her neck and licked the water that dripped from her hair. It felt more intimate than the sex. He let the bathrobe slid to the floor and placing his hand on her bare waist he had kissed her on the mouth.
He could feel her body warming to his touch. She was reaching there, she needed him as much as he needed her, but she had disappointed him, had ruined his image of the woman he loved; she had to be punished.
He moved back and left her standing naked, waiting in anticipation. He opened his wardrobe and took out a dress from the few he had bought, hoping that some day the woman he loved would give him the opportunity to gift them to her. That day never came; instead, here he was, giving the dress to another woman who had striking resemblance to the love of his life. This was what it had come to - Compensating.
He placed the dress on the bed and asked her to wear it and meet him at the bar. He asked her to let the hair be as it was. He strictly asked her not to wear make-up.
He offered her a drink when she came to the bar. He watched her as she finished her drink. Finishing the vodka from his glass he walked towards her and kissed her on the mouth, slowly pouring out the vodka in her mouth. They shared yet another intimate moment.
He took her to bed and explored her body, her skin felt warm to his touch. He took of his shirt, but when she started to unbutton his jeans he stopped her. Not so soon, he thought. He wanted her to suffer. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She looked so vulnerable. It was obvious that she was aware he was playing with her.
Then, he did something he had not done before. He apologized. He let her unbutton his jeans and he climbed on top of her, ready to fulfill her desires. It had never mattered to him before; he never cared about the women he had sex with. It was always about him. For the first time, he cared about the needs of the woman who had surrendered herself to him, giving him the authority to treat her the way he wanted, giving him the right to hurt her. He could not hurt her. He made love for the first time.
It felt different. He felt different. He’d never had such a fulfilling sexual experience before. He watched her shivering under him and he came into her, at the same time as she did.
Then, he fell asleep.
When he woke up, she was sleeping facing him. He ran his fingers through her hair and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He climbed out of bed and got dressed. Picking up his keys on his way out, he stepped out of the penthouse and went to his garage. He rode one of his bikes out of the garage towards the house of the woman he loved.
It was early morning, but he knew she would be awake. It was weekend, but she was a creature of habit. He watched her as she stood at the balcony, her arms wrapped around herself. She was wearing a satin night gown that stuck to her body. He wanted to touch her, wanted to feel her skin through the soft satin. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, she was not alone at the balcony. She was with the man, who was now kissing her neck. The man placed his hand on her waist and moved towards her breast, his hand rested there for a while as he kissed her on the lips.
He could not watch it anymore. He did not have to. The man picked her up in his arms and took her inside. He came back home. He regretted visiting her.
He undressed and climbed into bed once again. The woman he had made love to, was still asleep. He slept closer to her, his arm resting on her chest. He smelled her hair and fell asleep again.
He woke up when she tried to get out of the embrace. But, he did not want to let her go. He pulled her closer and kissed her on the mouth. His first morning kiss. It felt wonderful, it felt intimate. It felt as if he had touched her soul with the kiss. He was changing, this woman was changing him.
He waited for her permission and then he took her again. His first morning sex. He had so many firsts, in just one night. He rested his head on her chest and closed his eyes. He had never felt so relaxed before. He slept.
When he finally woke up, he was having a headache and his neck was stiff. It was the first time he had slept with his head on someone’s chest. He looked at her and smiled. Then, he climbed out of bed and got dressed. He went to the bar and poured himself a drink. What was happening to him? Whatever it was, it felt good and he hated it.
He did not want attachments. He was unwilling to let himself go soft on this woman. He had to set boundaries. He had to set things straight and therefore, when she walked towards the bar to join him; he stopped her and said that he would meet her tonight. He tried his best to keep his face expressionless. He could see that she was hurt; but then, she replied in an equally emotionless voice that he would have to call the agency and then walked out of the penthouse, leaving him alone wondering what was this arrangement turning into.
... concluded as Story 107
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