Erotica Short Stories

Tinted Love 3

She stumbled into the house and closed the front door with a heavy exhausting 'clack' behind her.

It was quiet.

The house was quiet.

Nobody was home. The silence was vibrating through the rooms filling them with some kind of melancholy paired with a heavyness that was hard to explain.

The last sunrays tried to make their way through the old shutters and reflected on the dark, dirty kitchen table.

Her eyes followed them and got stuck at the loads of dirty, smelly dishes that were waiting for her. The kitchen looked like it could use some serious attention but instead of getting started she only opened a window to get rid of the stuffy air and threw off her painfully high stilettos that were seriously ruining her mood.

She grabbed the last clean glass and rummaged through the white fridge that was defently too big for the rustical kitchen. In an instant she found what she was looking for and grabbed the bottle of wine that was luring her into the illusion of a nice evening just for herself.

She ended up taking the bottle upstairs, ignoring the glass she had put on the counter before and slowly ascending the stairs up to the bedroom. She didn't waste a moment to think about Brian and all the disgusting things he probably did to one of the slutls from work. That blond Taylor he had once invited over for dinner with his best friend from work Ash. She knew it had probably been her he had picked. He had always had a thing for young blondes. But who hadn't?
She imagined how she would moan his name in a too high pitched voice and dig her disgusting fake nails into his back.

Furious, she was nothing but furious.

How dare he be such an asshole? After all these years? Wasn't she enough? She had giving him her whole life, trusted him with all her secrets. And all the love? She dedicated it to him. But maybe she really was lacking something? Maybe she didn't deserve true love, real love. Or real love just didn't exist.

Whatever the right answer was, she swore to herself that she wouldn't care anymore. She was enough to herself. At least she tried to convince herself that that was the case. She was an independent strong woman and with the last gulp of wine from the bottle she fell asleep on the bed in her tight clothes, smiling to herself that Brian wouldn't get his Ravioli.

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I know its super short but i really wanted to write something again! Hope you enjoyed nonetheless! Next chapter stuff will finally get a bit more interesting and hot. Xxx