Previously - Chapter 3
“Is everything well,” Anna asked,
“Umm, ” he stuttered, simultaneously pressing his thumb on the SMS, and drifting his index finger along the pop up to tap on the ‘delete’ option, “something just came up at office….i am sorry Anna”.
Chapter 4 - Unfinished Business
To say Anna was dissapointed would be an understatment. But Nikolai knew she would understand. And she did. It was fine, she said. They would replan the vacation.
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Nikolai knew he shouldn’t have come in the first place, and certainly not to her house. But the urge to see Claire again was way too strong. He had convinced himself that he would only be here for a short while, and then he would be back home.
But for two hours now, he had sat here with her, and none of the million questions he had contemplated for the last four years, left his lips.
But even then, what was the point knowing now why she had left him? Or where she had gone to. With whom she had been with. It no longer mattered, he told himself. The clock had ticked. She was unimportant now.
Try as Nikolai did, to downplay everything about Claire, there was no denying that he felt uncomfortable, unable to look Claire straight in the eyes. There was this feeling he had that only Claire could inspire. Did the questions he longed to ask really no longer matter? Or so, he wished, but the truth was that a part of him feared, for what answers probably were.
Here beauty obviously still mesmerized him. Claire was still just as beautiful as she was those years. Her curves, her complexion, the ever set smile that lingered on her full lips were not lost on Nikolai. It reached a point where Nikolai’s discomfort was becoming obvious. And it angered him.
It was several years, but truth to say, Claire still allured him, just as powerfully as she did back then. And it seemed to grow rather than diminish, the more he looked at her. Wherever the anger that he had brewed inside for years had fled! It was as though she had never really left. It was only by conscious effort that Nikolai held back on his chair.
The feeling went on for a while, and a while longer. It reached a point where he wished to leave, wanted to just go away. But his body was way too heavy to life off the chair. His phone kept blinking. It had for the last half an hour or so, from the time he answered and told Anna that he was at office, before putting it on silence.
Meanwhile the silence was becoming embarrassing, heightening a certain edginess in the air. Just sitting here pretending to keep his eyes on the magazine didn’t help, and it was frankly starting to become ridiculous. Nikolai feigned another diversion, a distraction, angling his head sideways, and outwards of the window.
But that too didn’t work. There was so much before him to see, so much about her to think. And it was all inside, all unsaid. He blinked away, wiped his glistened brow. His mongering insides were starting to overwhelm him. Stupid heart, he sighed, stupid heart! What was the point? What did it hope to achieve? Didn't it see it was pointless?
Meanwhile the evening breeze from the window increased. The chill was stronger now. Claire stood up and left to draw the curtains. It was the recess Nikolai’s mongering insides needed to find a lease. He reached for the glass, downing the last swallow with a suppressed sigh, “Pfoooo”.
He needed to be out of here. Of that, Nikolai was now certain. Something about his heart had unshackled. The queer weightlessness in his chest bracket made him feel vulnerable.
Did Claire notice it? Did she know the crisis inside him? Was she aware of it? Was she encouraging it? The bulge on her braless chest, her soft linen, tight against her body and that framed her fullness, her curves, and that Nikolai couldn’t take his eyes off from....
His eyes were fixed on her backside, when she turned and made to return from closing the window, catching his stolen gaze. His gaze returned to the Magazine, and back to the silence. He couldn’t have anticipated what happened next. Claire, instead of returning to her chair across the table, rounded towards him, he only noticed as she angled to sit on the table just adjacent him.
“I know you have some questions,” she said, for the first time alluding to the one matter that had brought Nikolai to her house, “And I know you want to know why I asked to see you after all these years”.
Sat on the table, one lap over the other, with the linen pulling back to against the waistline, and leaning over towards him, Claire was so dangerously close, Nikolai wasn’t sure what to say or even how to be.
He was still contemplating anything to say, when the candle burned out. The sigh that escaped his nostrils, was from too deep, it could not be silenced.
And when in the darkness, he felt a hand rest against his, Nikolai’s heart, as though jumpstarted went into full mode rebellion. The churning valves, audible in their dab-dup, echoed to his ears.
He felt their locomotion, their shafting, almost mechanically against his chest, the friction as ungreased gears peddling on each other overlapped at first, and then the fluidity, the rhythm as they finally settled to a pattern.
A simmering quiver, warm but cooling, coursed down his spine, leaving along its trail, a dampness that glued his cotton shirt to his flesh. He leaned back, slightly stretching to try and untangle.
But by now Claire was, it must have been, everywhere, whispering, confessing. Promising. She was sorry she had left. She was sorry for everything.
“Forgive me,” she whispered.
Nikolai had nothing to say. His muscles rather than his mouth responded.
They tweaked, and loosed, freed from 4 years of hibernation, resurrected by a ghost from the past. His phone on the table blinked. Its light in the darkness was so bright, his other hand instinctively reached out, pressing on its sides. The blinking went off.
Nikolai’s surrender was complete. Claire had defeated him.
But who said it could have been otherwise? She was too much for him, always had been.
What’s more? She left him no space to withdraw. No time to prevaricate. In full throttle, she now moved on him, zeroing the distance, and climbing on his laps unhindered.
There was no turning back now. And Nikolai knew it, wanted it. He did not know how he found himself sprawled on the carpet. Effortlessly, he bulked to her weight, and lowered to pair her angle, opening his body to socket her thickness, to lock her curves.
Claire was aggressive, almost violent, she overwhelmed him, dictated the tempo. In no time however, Nikolai’s body reached for pace. The reciprocation, slow at first, intensified, as emotion after emotion found a match, and their bodies rediscovered, and yoked into the familiar fit of yesteryear.
Nikolai started to assume control, spreading his hands to reach upper, and cupping the solid swells of her braless top.
The effect was instantaneous. Claire groaned, breathless. But she was not about to surrender. Her motions now accelerated, and her brakeless hands, gliding along the breadths, and over the damp contours of his chest muscle, reached for his extremes, lower, and under to cup the solid bulge stretching his zip. Nikolai gasped, moaned.
He did not hear the door open. Neither did she.
Previous Chapters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter3
Chapter 2
Chapter3
