"It's really hard to differentiate love from the pleasure of sex. Most especially when you are new to the experience.
Yes, sex can be deceiving. You feel the words "I love you" more when she says it in her climax, probably looking into your eyes before letting that pussy juice out, while you both take deep breaths in motion.
Yeah, this was, is, and will still be the weakness of many men to come. The ones who may fall victim of mistaking sexual pleasure from true love.
Too bad I had to learn this the hard way.
It was finally morning, and I could feel the rays of sunlight piercing their way through the curtains into my eyes. I moved my hands slightly around the sheets in search of Amara, but didn't feel anything.
Didn't feel anyone next to me - on both sides.
Maybe she's in the bathroom? I thought before opening my eyes fully. I saw the bathroom door slightly open, and it didn't seem like anyone was there at the moment. I still got down from bed to check anyway.
I was right; there was no one in the bathroom. It was quite warm, so definitely someone was there not too long ago. I noticed the wardrobe scattered, like it was ransacked. It was really scattered, and all the clothes were all over the ground.
I couldn't understand anything I was seeing in the room at the moment, so I decided to head downstairs.
I put my pants on and headed downstairs; I could already smell pancakes stepping down from the staircase.
I saw a lady with dark short hair and chocolate-colored dark skin by the dining table, arranging the plates, and she seemed to be in a happy mood with the way she hummed while arranging those plates. She kept her gaze fixed on me immediately she noticed I was coming downstairs, and she didn't take it off till I walked up to her. I held my gaze fixed on hers too till I was close enough to talk to her. I think she was the taxi driver's wife."
"Good morning, ma'am," I greeted, looking around the room. "I'm looking for Amara; she was here last night - "
"She left," the lady interrupted, just as a little girl rushed in from the kitchen before she could utter another word.
"Mummy, mummy, mummy! The pancakes are ready; come on, daddy's waiting!" the little girl said out loud, pulling her mother's hands.
"Mummy's coming, sweetie; now go back in the kitchen and help daddy serve them, will you?" The young lady told the little girl, pushing her slightly at the back as the little girl made her way back into the kitchen.
The young lady's gaze fell back on me as she let out a deep breath. "I'm Franca, Brent's wife," she said, looking all over my face with an expression of pity.
"What's your name? I didn't have the time to talk to you last night; we waited for you last night, but you took a very long time in the showers, so…."
She trailed off.
"I'm Raphael, but you can call me Ralph," I said, just when the taxi driver stepped in with a tray full of pancakes.
"Okay, okay, everyone; it's finally ready! Everyone, get in your seats! Breakfast is ready!" Whoah! He said, raising the tray of pancakes in the air before dropping it on the table. His eyes met mine, and it was like the joy in him disappeared for a moment there.
"Good morning, lad; you're awake," he said, looking at me. "Good morning," I replied. I noticed he looked me in the eye, the same guy who tried avoiding eye contact with me last night.
I was already too confused with everything and how everyone was acting at the moment; I needed an explanation. So, I demanded it, starting with knowing where my girl was.
"Ok, please, can anyone tell me where Amara is? I've been looking for her, and she ain't in the room. Or is she in the kitchen, because I - "
"Lad, listen," Brent interrupted, walking up to me and putting a hand on my shoulder. And he seemed more confident. "She left. Not just that, she took some things along with her. We were lucky we saw her in time. Only God knows how much she would have taken."
Brent said, taking his hands off my shoulder, resting it on his wife's shoulder, as he stroked his daughter's hair softly.
"What do you mean she left? Where did she go to?" I asked, already feeling stressed about the pointless things they were saying.
"Look, I caught her in my room while my wife was out to get some things down the street. Maybe she didn't calculate her plan properly, but it didn't just work out for her, and I am glad it didn't, cause my wife would have lost her only gold necklace to her," Brent said, looking me dead in the eye.
"Are you saying she st-"?
"Yes, she tried stealing from us. She is a thief, Raphael," Franca cut me off with a more serious expression on her face.
"So, she was a thief goddammit !
That necklace was a gift from her mother before she died….. You should stay away from her lad. Especially if you are just meeting her." She is going to get you into a lot of trouble, lad," Brent said, pointing at me.
"But why didn't you guys wake me up when you noticed what was happening at the moment?" I asked, as I watched them all take their seats.
"My daughter rushed upstairs to check if you were still in your room. It was a big mistake. You were just there, naked in the bed, with your legs wide open, fast asleep," Brent replied.
God. Oh my God. I can't believe this little girl saw me with my legs wide open. Fuck!!
"I and my husband chased Amara all the way to the back. That was where she escaped from," Franca said, before taking a bite from the pancake in her grasp.
"We would have called the cops on you. You would have been in a cell now. But it seems you guys just met, hey?".
Brent asked but I kept silent looking at him all this just didn't feel real at the moment. In fact everything happening since I left that goddamn house hasn't been feeling real.
Here, have some pancakes; they are really thick layers and very tasty. I'm sure you are hungry," the little girl said, pushing a plate of pancakes forward for me