Reaps Gives Deets

Untitled Part 9

The porch creaked. Before spending the tired fingers on the knob, the door opened. The lovely divine met her hurt handsome. There were scratches across his arms and his pant was torn in patches. Little blood had clotted.

She didn't find any welcoming voice. He just smiled. Because it was the first time she had opened the door for him in years.

Years passed by just like that without doubt, years which infinite good dreams were all about. Pelly had forgotten why had he left just before getting his 5 year due promotion. Yes, it was due to something personal. But still when he faced the fact, he had remained oblivious and went to lengths of self destruction.

Do you know how many times he met Andy during the five years? Hint - it's a single digit number.

Yep. Nine visits, each a week long. She had suffered terribly. Her desires were ravishing her, driving her crazy. But what could she do? He two fingers helped to some extent. She couldn't possibly ask Pelly. Now, who leaves a good paying job for sexual satisfaction, huh, when one plans of long term savings and starting a family?

Yes, a family it had all been about. Enough with the money. Pelly wanted to go home and kiss his wife. Get down on her and ravish her soul. Plant his seed and go on a nine month pilgrimage. Please welcome world, the family of Storks.

Hehe, a family that never was.

Pelly entered and felt the spent. He lashed onto the sofa and closed his eyes, the temples agitated from the precedent adrenaline.

He had heard somewhere that masturbation would help ease pain. But where the chance. His too had long ago bit the dust. To be short and to the point, he has gone to the stage of infertility.

No more rigidity in the pants, no more handling of tender flesh.

An aspirin maybe. That would help.

A hand sprung on his white nylon strands. The palm felt cool, a gentleness from a decade back. The palm had both seen the serene comforting Pelly and the wild sexy one.

Now somehow neither of the two. It was a Pelly that needed to get on terms with the newfound fragility. Gone were the days when Pelly had scooped the owner of the hand in a stroke and the hand had gleefully slapped his toned cheek.

The rested hand now scratched the head. The aspirin was acting now.

He screwed his neck and saw her. The woman whom his kids will call mother. Or rather would have. Kids who died because they were never born.

Andy leaned and kissed him on his lips, a little blood oozing out of the left tip. Her fingers treaded towards the gush on his back. The fingerprints rubbed, minuscule of pain registering on the nerve ends.

But it felt good, very good.

"I'm sorry, Pelly." Andy said with a trying straight face.

"What for?"

"Because I hated you."

"Well, I let you do it, so I am at fault too."

Andy let out a sigh. It had been the third year, when she had met those two men.

With the first guy, it was a cool flirt. He had tagged along to her house and she was more than happy. He looked not too bulky but his hands were quite good. The fingers were slender, and his lips looked juicy.

She was about to remove her shirt, when out of nowhere she stood up and said furtively, "I am married. Sorry."

The guy was absolutely hurt. Imagine, you were promised chicken dinner and then you just get a glimpse and a message saying you can't eat because it is on TV.