Temptation

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, as I longed for intimacy—real intimacy. Ever since Chris and I had that night together, I hadn’t felt satisfied. Instead, it left me craving something deeper, something more intense.

I never dared tell Chris how disappointing it was. I knew it would crush him. Yet, the next morning after that night, he had the nerve to ask how I felt about it. I just smiled, rolled my eyes, and lied, that I enjoyed every moment. Even though he’s my boyfriend, I know one thing for sure—I’ll never spend the night at his place again.

Ever since my mum got married, loneliness has wrapped itself around me. I saw it coming. She no longer has time for her only precious daughter. It doesn’t even seem to matter to her whether I come home or not. Robin is always the one checking in, calling to make sure I’m safe. Sometimes, he even offers to leave work early just to drop me home, but I always refuse.

My Mum and I used to have dinner together every evening. Lately, she doesn’t care if I’ve eaten or not. The neglect was getting under my skin, and one night, after finishing my meal, I decided I had to talk to her. But as I walked toward her room, I froze.

From inside, I heard soft moans—pleasurable sounds. Her door was slightly ajar, the bedside light casting a warm, dim glow. My heart pounded as I leaned closer and peeked through the crack.

The bed wasn’t angled toward the door, but I was able Mr. Fred's head diving between my mom’s thighs, his mouth eagerly devouring her pussy. He trailed hot kisses up her waist, latching onto her right nipple with hungry sucks while his left hand caressed her other breast. The both of them were completely naked, his massive, thick, curved cock impossible to ignore. I watched, as he slid it deep into her, her moans of ecstasy filling the air. I stood at the door, my hands roaming my body, wishing Chris would fuck me like this. Mr. Fred’s chiseled body was pure perfection—his veined muscles bulged as he gripped my mom’s legs, pulling her closer. His deep groans were so damn seductive.

This went on for almost two hours before it finally ended. And yes, you may judge me, but I stayed there, watching every moment. I never said a word to my mum afterward—I just walked back to my room, my head spinning with what I had seen. At nearly twenty-two, it was the first time I’d witnessed something so raw, so consuming, that I could almost feel it myself.

Inside my room, I locked the door, switched off the lights, and threw myself onto the bed. Curling beneath the duvet, I hugged my pillow close, my mind refusing to let go of the images. All I could picture was Mr. Fred, and in my imagination, I wondered what he might do to me if it were me in that moment. From that night on, the way I looked at him was never the same.

As the days went by, I found myself avoiding Mr. Fred. I didn’t want to see him, didn’t want any kind of encounter with him. I poured myself into school instead, and when I wasn’t there, I spent most of my time with Chris.

Then came July 18th—my mum’s birthday, a Saturday. At around five in the morning, I crept downstairs for a glass of water. The dining room was dark, the lights still off. I opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle, and as I shut the door, my heart nearly stopped.

Mr. Fred stood there—shirtless, smiling, in the dark, I was able to see him with the fridge light before it closed completely.

I shivered, the bottle slipping from my hands and crashing to the floor. My pulse raced as I bent down to pick it up.

“What the hell, man!” I hissed, keeping my voice low so I wouldn’t wake my mum. “Why would you sneak up on me like that?”

“That’s not how you talk to your father—”

“Father?” I froze, staring at him. The word echoed in my head. I flipped on the light, and when I looked back at him, he was already reaching into the fridge for his own bottle of water.

Ever since I’d been living in his house, this was the first time I’d been this close to him—close enough to see the bare skin of his chest, the sharp definition of his abs. For a moment, it felt like my soul had slipped free, drawn to make forbidden contact with him. I was lost in the heat of my own imagination, so much so that I didn’t realize he had already stepped in front of me, snapping his fingers to bring me back. I jolted to myself instantly, only to notice the water spilling onto the floor from my hand.

“You okay?” he asked, his hands closing firmly over my shoulders.

“Y-yeah,” I stammered, struggling to breathe normally. “I’m fine.” I exhaled hard, brushing his hands away.

“Fucking temptation,” I muttered under my breath.

“I see you’re still not comfortable around me,” Mr. Fred said evenly.

“Should I be?” I shot the question back at him.

He looked at me again, tilting his head as he gulped down water. His throat worked in a slow, deliberate motion, and I couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose. A thin stream escaped the corner of his mouth, trailing down to his chest. I caught myself staring—this time fully aware of it.

“We need to go out more often, you know?” he said, closing the bottle.

“W–we? What do you mean we?” I stammered, my voice lower than usual.

“Me, you—”

“Why should we? Why are we going out?” I cut him off before he could finish.

He gave me a look, the kind that silently asked if I was okay, then carried on.

“Your mum and my son, Robin. All of us. We need to spend more time together, for family bonding. And since it’s your mother’s birthday today, I thought we could do something special, go someplace nice. She told me she hasn’t celebrated her birthday since your father passed away—”

“I hate birthdays,” I muttered coldly.

“I know. And that’s fine. But this isn’t about you—it’s for your mum.”

“That’s right. Another way to put it,” I whispered under my breath.

“Did you say something?” Mr. Fred asked.

“I won’t be going. I have my own plans today,” I told him, turning to leave the dining room.

“It’s for your mum, Ariana. Don’t you want to see her happy?” His words pressed against me, sounding more like emotional blackmail than concern.

My chest tightened. “Does anybody ever want to see me happy? Ever since my father died, my whole life has been about her—please do this, please do that. Now she doesn’t even care what I do, and somehow she still gets to be happy all the time. What about me? I lost a dad too, and I haven’t been happy since then. Do any of you even care about that?” My voice cracked as the anger poured out.

Mr. Fred stepped toward me, and I instinctively backed away.

“Don’t come any closer,” I warned, tears stinging my eyes. “Ever since you came into our lives, I’ve been invisible to her. And I told myself I didn’t mind. But now—you come here, rubbing it in my face?” My voice broke, and the tears slipped down my cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “We had no idea. We thought you just wanted space—”

“You know what?” I cut him off, wiping my face. “Fine. I’ll come for your stupid outing. But I’m bringing my boyfriend along.”

“Chris?” he asked, startled.

“Yes. Chris,” I snapped without hesitation. Then I froze, glaring at him. I have never told anyone about Chris, I thought. “Wait… how do you even know about Chris?” I asked.