A journey begins! Riza's interest on Peter just couldn't stop. Her all inquisitiveness pours on him.
"I want to know him well. I want to know him more and more. Just let me do the dishes." Riza cleanses the table and thinks.
Peter sits on the armchair. He takes out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, brings out one, and looks at the label just above the filter, lovingly. He takes out the lighter and lights it. One inhale, and his face gives out a satisfied expression. He pulls the centring table near with his leg, and then rests his feet, crossed, over it, stretched. And then he goes on smoking. Once he tries to create a ring, but could not. He cannot do that.
Oh, Peter! What is your first love? Get the woman before cigarettes kill you.
The odour of the smoke reaches Riza's nose. She feels a bit disturbed, but does not show it. And you, Riza! Learn to complain. Albeit politely, but at least show it!
After doing the table and washing hands, Riza sits near Pete in another armchair. Peter is still smoking. Riza is not feeling good about the thing. She stays silent, looking a bit downwards.
"What? You liked it?" Peter raises eyebrows in funny gesture.
Riza keeps mum.
Peter finishes the cigarette, goes up and throws the leftover in a dustbin. There is no ashtray. This is a lady's apartment.
He sits on the sofa. With spread legs and extended hand he calls Riza.
"Come here."
Riza obliges. She sits beside Pete. Taking her shoulder Pete kisses her on her semi-bulged cheek. The cigarette odour reaches Riz from Pete's mouth. Riza doesn't move her face. She controls herself.
"There's something special in you."
Riza says nothing.
Peter keeps on looking at Riza. Riza understands it but keeps her head a bit down as before.
"What are you thinking?"
"Nothing." Riza looks at Pete.
"Great day, isn't it?"
Riza nods, "Don't smoke before me."
"OK." Pete reclines on sofa.
Both keep quiet for some time. Then Riza breaks silence- "Go and wash your face."
Peter goes to washroom and applies toothpaste in finger. Riza remains seated. Is she thinking something? Or is she thinking what she should think?
"Hey, you have grown up since your college days."
Riza gave a heavy and a full look. Peter sat beside Riza. He caressed her hair for some time. His fingers, swimming through her hair, gave Riza a comforted feeling. She became calm and felt fulfilled. Yet she said nothing. Pete took her by chin and gave a slight, romantic kiss. Riza smiled a little and looked at Peter with loving eyes.
He hugged her. Her warm, full breast against his. Not tightly, but not loosely either. With somewhat passion. Riza was trying to feel intently his manly chest, broad and tough, encompassing her like a big, wide wall. She was fantasizing his nude breast, hairy as it is, with black semi-curly small tentacles spread over mostly on the upper portion, not very dense.
Putting Riz a bit away, Pete was caressing her cheek. Then, fond of her in a hot desire, he hugged her again tightly. Riza could not breath. She felt the pressure in her breast. But she remained silent. She was savouring the moment. Such moment doesn't come everyday.
Then Peter gave her a huge kiss. Holding strongly in his arms, he pressed his lips against her tanned, almost golden, white cheek as if nothing matters. The girl in front is the only truth. She is my love. She is my life. She is my everything.
Have you decided Peter, if the girl before you is your destiny, your future? Or is this truth momentary? Shall another wave carry you in another direction?
Peter observed the romantically crushed face of Riza. Smiled beautifully with love. Looked on for some time. Then gave a series of quick kisses. Held her tight and stood up. And he went on kissing. Riza hugged him tight by shoulder, and the two bodies became one. They were both hot. Riza could feel the warm, tight chest against her nipples and a sensual current running through her bosom and upper portion of her body. She could sense the warm bulge of flesh against her groin.
After a brief interval of standing Pete again sat on sofa and pulled Riz on his lap. He started kissing desperately. His eyes rolled like balls. He stared at Riza. "I am going mad!" He began moving his hot hands gently on sides of Riza's torso. Riza became wet. She didn't say anything. She didn't move. Only rested her face on the left shoulder of Peter. Nobody saw her twisted facial expression- yearning pain for love.
As Peter could not understand Riza's emotion, he gently kissed on her shoulder. Then pulled her face up by chin to give a soft kiss on cheek. It is then he saw the anguish for love on her face- her tightly closed eyes, lips pressed on each other- the violent desire for love waiting to happen. That Peter saw. What he did not see was that her whole body was ready for it. Oh well, it's ok. So long both go for the same goal.
So Peter pulled her up, both standing, and carried her to bed. He undressed her, got undressed, and did it again.
At the end Riz had enough. Her body could take no more. A sensation difficult to digest running throughout, inside her vagina aching, and pressure feeling in breast, like gas or wind. It was as if painful to open the eyes, she was trying to bear the discomfort, as bearing nature a woman has. "Pain will be there, I have to bear it", a woman thinks.
Peter was roaming in the room, head a bit down, eyes quite piercing, left hand palm in fist, right hand palm wide open, and bent. He looked at Riza. She was there with hands and legs a bit spread out, eyes closed. Watching a nude woman lying on bed his body and genitals got aroused again. He again approached to do it. Riza smiled a little. She cannot take anymore, but she will not resist. She won't ask not to. She will take the challenge. Women take challenges, just the object is different.
After being done, Riza laid still on bed. As if all her muscles have swollen. She cannot move them. They are jammed. She cannot even think. Vomitting tendency cropped up.
"I'll vomit."
Peter took her by two hands and took to washroom.
After being relieved Riza found some peace. She laid in bed for some time. Then got back to her self a bit. The thought of being universally exposed in a room in broad daylight made her feel ashamed.
"Give me my clothes."
Peter was enjoying the vision. Though not always. Not that he was staring. You don't see this everyday.
"No."
Riza said nothing. After some time Pete covered her with her clothes, as he could not see anything better.
Then he laid down beside her, drove his fingers affectionately over her hair, her cheek.
"Remember your college days, Riz?"