Rosita's Affair 4

“Fuck!!!”

Her squirt was all over his face.

“I am sorry—I am very sorry, please.” Rosita pleaded. Knowing that she has really messed up his face with her fluids.

Eugene felt bad in a good way.

 Bad because his face was already messed up with her release, good because he was proud of himself.

 He just gave a woman her first orgasm through pussy sucking, and it felt so good. It'd give him confidence to do more, knowing that it has brushed his ego.

“There's no need to apologize, Rosita. I am definitely fine,” he was trying his best to hide the prideful excitement that was already building up in him, knowing fully well that he had brought a lady to have an orgasm.

“How was that?” He asked, trying so hard to feign ignorance of the fact that he was so elated and proud of himself.

Her legs were still shaking. She was vibrating involuntarily, and her breath could be heard if listened to closely and carefully.

“How do you feel having your first orgasm from me sucking your pussy?”

 He was trying so hard to sound sarcastic and, at the same time, cover up the pride and extra confidence that had built up in him.

“I feel good. Exhausted and weak,” she had managed to say after a minute or two of silence. Smiling faintly

He nodded his head in affirmation.

Her phone suddenly buzzed.

 It was a distraction that we both didn't need at that point.

She lazily stretched out her hand and took it to her ear.

Eugene still stayed on his knees, silent as he listened carefully to know who it was that was interrupting this good budding sexual session he was having with his woman for the first time in a long time. 

“Yes, no, okay. I will be there. Okay, bye” Her voice, though hoarse, sounded so tired as she gave out that monosyllabic response to whoever was on the other end of the call.

“I have to get going, Eugene,” she said hesitantly, getting up from the bed and making for the bathroom to have a wash.

“You are going out?” Eugene had a confused, puzzled look on his face.

“Yes, I am.” 

“Where?”

There was silence. The water splashing on the body could be heard as the shower came into activeness in the bathroom. 

A few minutes later, she was out. Eugene was shown when she heard him the first time. 

“Where are you going?” He queried again as she was applying her body lotion on her skin.

She was mute.

“Where are you going, Rosita, or am I not permitted to know?” He tried his best not to raise his voice, but he just couldn't help it.

She turned to look at him on the bed. Inhaled deeply and shrugged off her shoulders. 

“What?”

She asked him. Staring at him

“What is it now? Two of us were here when I got a call, meaning that you're aware that I am going out-

He cut in.

“Yes, I am aware that you're going out, Rosita. I am so fucking aware, but I don't know where you're going and why you are going. I just know when you're going.”

“Don't be silly, Eugene. Please, don't just be silly and make an issue out of this, please. Just know that I am going out and it's for an official purpose, please.”

She was already done with her make-up and dressing whilst getting ready to leave the house.

“So, telling me where you're going, is now me trying to bring up an issue where there is none? Simply because I demanded transparency and accountability to know what had interrupted our good time?”

Rosita didn't say a word. She took her time to round up what it is that she was doing.

“I was called to represent the school at a board meeting this afternoon. Impromptu, because the representative that ought to be present couldn't make it, so I have to go stand in. I believe you're okay with it now?”

Eugene didn't say a word. 

He couldn't tell if she was lying or telling the truth. For the first time since they started dating, he'd felt neglected and subdued, probably because of his age.

His worries were valid.

Rosita was going to meet her husband. 

Eugene would never know she had another boyfriend. 

-

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-

(IN JUDE’S APARTMENT)

Jude ran the bathwater, and when he returned, Rosita was sitting on the edge of the bed, her legs crossed as before, knees high in the air.

 She kicked up one leg and wiggled her foot at him. 

He knelt and removed her stiletto.

 She reversed her legs and raised the other foot in the same fashion. 

She removed that shoe and then ran his hands up her slender leg until his fingertips were just past the top of the stocking and touching the bare skin of her thigh, and with just a small amount of encouragement, he could have cum right there from just the soft, supple feel of her skin. Instead, he focused on the task and slowly slid the stocking down her shapely leg to her ankle.

 Then he raised her lower leg by placing her hand under her calf muscle and rolled the stocking over her heel and off her foot.

 He removed the other stocking in the same manner, and she rose to her feet.

“You had really kept me waiting, Rosy. I was worried you had forgotten that we were supposed to meet today” 

This was the name he had adopted for her right from the first time they had gone out on a date, two years ago in Johannesburg, South Africa, during one of her once-in-a-year vacations. 

He was a Scottish photographer. She was a Black American lecturer.

“I am sorry, baby.” She wanted to make sure there was no suspicion on her dealings with a younger man while in California. He'd feel hurt, broken, and saddened that she was cheating on him. 

“How could he forget that they had planned to meet this weekend and she Settled for Eugene?”

He'd never forgive her, probably because he has built his world so much and so hard around her that any action of hers would break him into pieces. 

Rosita knew she wouldn't be with him. He was in his early forties, more established and defined more than her younger lover, Eugene.

He was a successful wildlife photographer who had toured almost all the parts of the world.

He was a considerate human, kind and caring, but he had just one problem, which was the reason Rosita had to find a substitute lover.

He was verbally abusive and toxic. Jude wasn't the type of man to hit you for dropping his cup where it wasn't meant to be, but he would rain insults and abuses on you, making you feel so worthless and inhuman. 

Several times she had Rosita complain about it, but all her complaints seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Still kneeling, he unclasped the miniskirt and let it fall to the floor. She wore tiny, white thong panties trimmed with lace, which he pulled down and helped her step out of. Then he ran his hands up the outside of her legs, over her hips, and on to her waist to steady himself as he stood.

“I have missed you, Rosita.”