NOT A JOKE. NOT A DREAM.

 LOLA

"See me as soon as you can," Greg had beckoned to me while I cleared the table after breakfast that morning.

Not like the in-house chefs couldn't clean up after us, it was just my way of getting things off my mind that morning.

After I had wiped the table dry, I dropped the napkin against its hanger with a low sigh then looked up to see Mrs. Adama smiling warmly at me, her fingers intertwined and hanging in front of her, against the face of her flowery apron.

I wasn't ready for whatever she had up her sleeves this morning, so I forced a smile back, walking past her towards the stairs.

I heard her sigh softly behind me and I think she had said something, but I didn't care.

Broken, disappointed and desperate for a way out of how dejected and rejected I was feeling at the moment, I made my way to the only room on the ground floor — my father in-law's.

I was sure he wasn't in the sitting room, he hadn't gone out — his bedroom being the only other place he could be.

I didn't even bother to knock — it would be easy to defend myself since he was the one that asked for me. Pushing the door through, I allowed myself in, shocked at how transformed the room now looked.

In my two years of living under Eddison Langford's roof as a stay at home wife, I had toured every corner of the mansion and I could still remember how neatly empty the same room looked.

I didn't know when but it had gotten a complete refurbishment — it looked bigger, better, more like a mansion in a mansion.

It spoke volumes of the kind of man Gregory Langford was — wealthy from the roots, the kind that shows even in his absence.

I scanned the room with my eyes again, for probably the tenth time since a few minutes ago, getting lost in the luxury of every single item sitting in there, my eyes finally falling on the bed and refusing to leave. 

I wasn't sure what happened, but a ball of warmth sprawled from my stomach, spreading fast across my body.

The thoughts formed quickly before I was able to do anything to stop them — Eddy wouldn't mind if I was sucking his father's d*ck after a breakfast that was more of how he cared less about demeaning me to dust, and forcing me to gobble up with a smile.

Heat gathered up fast between my legs, my heart beating faster than when I came in.

I was a second from turning around and walking through the door —I was getting aroused by mere thoughts and I was too upset at Eddy to give a damn about his feelings at the moment.

I was upset at the world for dealing me a life that weighed me down everyday. I knew I would choose myself if the objection wasn't strong enough, and choosing myself would be obliging fully to my imaginations.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Greg walked out of it with a towel over his face and upper body, his hands working fast at getting his hair dried.

I froze in my position, my eyes flickering with the movement of his fingers against the towel and his silvery hair, wondering if this was a chance to finally sneak out that door.

I was still trying to make a decision when the towel fell from his face — my lips fell apart, moisture drying up quickly down my throat.

Greg looked like a different person — transformed from what I had pictured in my head. 

His lightly tanned body was damp and bare with just a pair of black boxer briefs clasped around his waist, doing nothing to help get my eyes off his groin protruding in front like a loaded gun waiting to be fired.

His body was built like that of an athlete — strong muscles, wide chest and albs defined like none that I had ever seen. I wondered if what the internet said about him being a retired boxer was true.

I was struggling to keep my composure and not pounce on him, but my eyes were already sizing his c*ck and testing the firm of his chest.

I swallowed, forcing my glands to secrete saliva.

"Oh, you're here."

He had said it casually like he wasn't aware of what he bore and how useless it could render an onlooker.

I opened my mouth to say something, but no word came. I closed it, then swallowed again, pulling my eyes shut this time and stretching my throat more.

I wasn't sure why but Greg ignored me. He didn't dash to the wardrobe to pull out a shirt or even bother to cover up with the towel. 

Lazily, he had strolled to the bed and sank into it like we had done this before.

My feet hardened against the floor and my eyes trailed down his hairy broad chest, to his stomach, my thoughts disappearing into his boxer.

"Are you uncomfortable?" his voice came — husky, big, different from what I was used to, a powerful, irresistible energy plating every word.

I shook my head, scared that saying a word would reveal how much I had already wet my panties at all the emotions he was subjecting me to by just existing in front of me.

His gaze lingered on my face for a while and I imagined him pulling me to himself, kissing me hard until I start to tremble from want that only his c*ck could satisfy.

"---We will be gone before you know it." 

I heard him, but it looked like he had said a whole lot and was just concluding.

I nodded again, even though I truly do not have a problem with having the men around.

"So, eat well. It is a celebration. You should eat even more than you have been eating." 

My mind ripped apart at the reminder of the breakfast table and how so small I had felt on my seat through it.

"I am fine," I murmured, giving in to the urge to say something.

"Of course." 

His response was simple and unsuspecting. Then, he went ahead to give me every detail of why the family gathering was necessary as a means of honouring the continuous growth of their establishments and the departed souls of everyone that had contributed in one way or the other to its benefit.

From all he had said, I could tell how important and huge the get together was and also, I knew that I wouldn't be able to forget Greg for a long time.

"Do you want something?"

His voice rumbled against the question, sending electric waves down my spine. My eyes widened in disbelief.

He wasn't joking. I wasn't dreaming.