Chapter 8
1330 Words
Sanaya’s P.O.V
“I’m home!” I called out as I shut the front door behind me.
“Maa?” I asked out loud when I didn’t hear her reply. “Maa, where are you?”
Hanging my keys in the key holder beside the door, I took off my shoes and entered the house. The bright neon green sticky note stuck to the fridge was like a huge pop-up sign that I already knew the contents of, but I ripped it off the fridge and read it anyway.
Gone to Mrs. Sharma’s for Maata Ki Chowki. Don’t wait up for me.
P.S- Mrs. Sharma’s son, Rahul, he’s also going to be there. I heard he’s a civil engineer. I’ll save you a seat.
I sighed and threw the note away in the trash can. Only my mom would make a post script longer than the actual message and advertise her friend’s ‘talented son’ all at once. Her Maata Ki Chowki, which is supposed to a night dedicated to prayers of the great Indian Goddesses, is just a chugli (gossip) club that the Indian aunties in our community use as an excuse to get together and b***h about everyone that’s absent from the party. It is also a matchmaking heaven for all mothers who want to steal the biggest fish in the marriage pond or get information about what their children’s cousins are up to and if they are available for a matchmaking dinner.
I should’ve know something like this was going to happen when my mom was urging me this morning about arranging dinner dates with men she thought would be a perfect fit for me.
Shaking my head at her antiques, I sent a text to Acelin thanking him for dinner once again and telling him about my mom to which he replied with two of those crying-while-laughing emoticons.
I checked the front door once again to make sure that I had locked it properly when I entered and went into my room. Dumping all my work clothes into the laundry basket, I jumped straight into the shower and spent the next half-hour taking care of my hair.
Once I was fresh and showered, I picked out my outfit for the next morning and pulled out my hair dryer to struggle with my hair some more. Sometimes, I wish I could just cut it off and save myself a ton of time looking after my hair but my dad had loved my long hair.
I’d inherited my hair from my mother and my dad would sometimes jokingly tell me that the only reason he’d married my mom was because he’d fallen in love with her long midnight braids in a sea of blonds and brunettes in their high school.
I can still remember him trying to braid my hair before Kindergardenth and failing miserably but I’d still go to school with two weird looking braids and a ridiculous smile on my face because my daddy did my hair.
Thinking about my dad always made me sad but tonight, I tried to remember only the good things as I went to bed, hoping that my dad was watching me from the heavens above.
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I was in a big house…no, an apartment.
The walls and furniture were all dark colours, absorbing all the light in the room. But oddly, I didn’t feel scared.
There was hardly any furniture in the room but when I turned to my left, I came face to face with a brilliant view of the New York skyline and the full moon shining through the huge floor to ceiling glass windows. The sudden pop of colour and light against the background of such dark colours was startling and refreshing; as if someone had purposely painted the room a dark grey to make the city look even more delightful.
“Hello?” I asked, looking around the room. “Is anyone here?”
But the only sound that greeted me was that of the shower turning on. The sound of water as it dripped down and hit the floor.
“Hello?” I started following the noise to one side of the room and came across a large wooden door. It was partially closed so I pushed it open to reveal a large bedroom.
The entire house seemed to be dark themed.
The walls, the pillows, the bed sheets and even the comforters in the neatly made king-sized bed were all different shades of grey and black. But somehow, it all worked. It was like darkness lived in harmony in this house.
The sound of running water came from inside the room so I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. Someone would think this was a perfect set up for a horror movie or a murder mystery, but something about this room felt welcoming, like someone was urging me to follow the sound of the water.
There was another door to the side of the room, this one made of stained black glass. The sound of the running water seemed to be coming from inside the glass door. Hesitantly, I placed my hand on the door and slowly slid it open…and froze.
The water from the shower fell like a waterfall, gliding over his body like a lover’s caress. The arch of his back was taunt as he leaned forward with his hands braced on the wall. Pure muscles bulged and tightened as he removed one hand from the wall and pushed back his dark, wet locks away from his face.
The glass surrounding the shower chamber was almost fully covered with steam but I could never mistake that face, those sharp angles and that body. Lancelin Eustein.
A gasp left my lips as I saw droplets of water rolling down the perfect arch of his spine…lower…lower...down the perfect mounds of his buttock cheeks.
Never in my life had I imagined that a man’s back could turn me on, but watching the muscles of Lancelin’s back move and flex, I just discovered I had a back fetish.
I followed the tiny droplet of water hungrily with my eyes, wanting to lick them off his back. What would it feel like to touch that skin? To run my fingers down his spine…to dig my nails into those hard muscles…
His skin was porcelain white under the golden lights in the bathroom and the droplets of water shimmered like diamonds. Lancelin threw his head back to the water, exposing the column of his throat. His eyes were closed as he ran his fingers through his hair and slowly…moved his hands to the front of his chest and started his tantalizingly slow journey down his body.
He didn’t turn towards the door; didn’t even look at me, but I could understand and visualize clearly where his hands were headed. And he didn’t make me wait long for the treat.
Slowly but surely, his hands reached past his pelvises and he took his manhood into his hands.
A moan left his lips as his back arched and his head lowered even further. And then he was pumping. The rhythm slow and steady.
Once…twice…thrice…
RING! RING! RING! RING!
A gasp left my lips as I shot up in bed, unable to comprehend what had exactly happened.
“Sana! Shut your alarm clock! The whole neighborhood is awake!” My mom’s voice reached me through the closed doors of my room and it took my brain a while to register that the ringing sound I was hearing had come from my alarm clock.
Shutting off the damn thing with a bang, I ran my hands through my hair and rubbed my face, only to realize that I was covered in sweat and still in my room, on my bed and not in Lancelin Eustein’s apartment, watching him j******f in the shower.
Wait…did I just…was it a…Oh no! Holy s**t!
I just had a wet dream about my boss!
- Writer
