The Seventh Commandment. free porn video

“Our eyes met across a crowded room.”

So goes the old line from many films and countless cheap novels. In my case, it wasn’t true. The ‘crowded room’ part was correct, but I only saw the back of her head. A cascade of hair draped past her waist, and black. So black it seemed to absorb the light. I was hypnotised by it, my gaze fixed upon it. It drew me forward, a silent bidding. I eased myself away from the group I was with and started to edge closer. As I approached, the strands resolved one by one and each one shone. They picked up highlights from the brightly lit room and her hair, though still as black as a moonless night, bounced back tiny sparkles. There were a thousand midnight stars in her hair.

Edged up against the wall of the room, squeezed between the heavy window drapes and the buffet table, I was left alone to feast my eyes on her. I still hadn’t seen her face, but I didn’t care, I was content. The more I looked the more sparkling colours appeared. Her hair reflected the red dress of a woman behind her. I could see the soft green of the curtains and the myriad stars from the chandelier overhead. I even fancied I saw my own evening dress reflected back to me. I stood unmoving for an age. Not once did she turn around or even glance to the side to give me a glimpse of her face. And then she started to move away, slowly easing her way through the crowd, with a woman and a man, both quite elderly, for companions. They guided her like a precious cargo through to the next room and I started to gather myself to follow them. I had been standing so still for so long that it needed an effort to move my limbs. A slight dizziness made me reach for the table next to me for support and when I looked again, she was nowhere to be seen.

I couldn’t understand why I was panicking, but I shook my head to clear it and pushed myself away from the wall and my safe little niche. That was just the wrong time for the others in my party to find me.

“Hey, Joss, where did you get to? We’ve been looking for you. There’s someone important who wants to meet you.”

It took a moment or two for my brain to get back into gear. I’d almost forgotten why I was here at this social gathering. As always it was business first and last. We were all here to represent our firm as well as to network and mingle with influential people. I was, after all, a senior partner. With mixed feelings, and one last hopeful glance over my shoulder, I followed them. The rest of the evening I managed to concentrate on the job in hand, although I couldn’t help scanning the room every so often. But it was in vain; she was gone. Most likely never to be seen again. I had only a brief and partial glimpse of her face to take home with me. Not even a name. And her hair! I felt that I would always remember her hair.

By the time I left and dragged myself wearily into a taxi, I was unsteady from too much free wine. I almost spilled onto the pavement outside my apartment block. Somehow, I managed the complicated business of paying the taxi and finding my keys and letting myself in. Finally, I collapsed onto the sofa and kicked off my shoes. All I could see when I closed my eyes was blackness containing a myriad of multi-coloured flickering sparks of light.

I felt dreadful when I woke up several hours later. My head throbbed and my neck ached from sleeping so awkwardly. When I opened my eyes the glare of the sun through the window was like being pierced by a lightning bolt and I quickly clamped them shut again. With half-blinkered eyes, I staggered upright and made my way to the bathroom. I sat for an age on the toilet, relieving myself and swilling pain relief down my throat with water. I was thinking about the possibility of going to bed and spending the day there when my phone rang. By the time I’d sorted myself out and actually found the damned thing it had stopped ringing and gone to voicemail, so I let it be. I could listen later, but for now, I needed coffee. I began to feel a little more human with nothing but the small domestic chore of making coffee to deal with. I think the painkillers were also beginning to kick in.

As I sat sipping my coffee, I picked up my phone to see who’d rung me. I was immediately wide awake. I’d forgotten that it was Sunday and that Miriam, my long-time partner, was due home today.

“Hi darling, just to let you know I’m just leaving mum’s and I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Plenty of time for you to tidy up the place and kick out all the little floozies you’ve had round while I’ve been away. See you soon, love you loads.”

Two hours! I looked around the kitchen in panic. Shit, the place was a mess. Washing-up piled in the sink was the major problem. And Miriam was not one to tolerate mess. The ‘little floozies’ were easier to deal with as there weren’t any. That was just a running joke between us whenever either of us was away. She claimed that I spent all the time dragging innocent young girls back to the flat and having my evil way with them. One thing that wasn’t a joke was the state of me. I realised I was still wearing the same clothes from the night before and I must look a real state. My dress was badly creased, and I had yet to find the courage to look in a mirror. As I finished my coffee, I made a mental list. Shower first and sort myself out, then the kitchen and, if there was time, some vacuuming. Strangely, the thought of some fairly mindless housework was calming.

Two hours later I finally put away the vacuum cleaner and poured myself a fourth cup of coffee. The dishwasher was still on the go, but the kitchen looked respectable at least. Now may be a good time to stop and introduce myself to you properly.

My name is Jocelyn, Joss for short, I think it was only ever my mother who used my full name and then only when I was in trouble. My partner of five years is Miriam. We met on a blind date and got on really well from the start, so much so that we decided she should move in two weeks later. She’s a physiotherapist at our local hospital but is currently on a week’s leave visiting her mother who’s quite ill. You don’t need to know about my life pre-Miriam, but I was not the calm and settled person I am now but a bit of a party girl. A combination of work and Miriam slowed me down to the non-domestic goddess I have now become.

I’m a partner in a very specialist firm of insurers. Not for us the boring and mundane contents insurance. Look elsewhere to sort out your car. We do boobs! More accurately, we do specialist insurance for the very nouveau rich and the wannabe famous. Those with valuable assets such as their boobs. And hair and hands and feet and … ahem … other body parts. We have a few high-value porn stars on our books, both male and female. It may all sound very glamorous to you but believe me, it isn’t. Our clients are a demanding and very fussy bunch whose only saving grace is their ability to pay the high premiums we charge. What it does mean is that I have to spend time at boring parties like I did yesterday, trying to maintain a smile while schmoozing with people I wouldn’t give the time of day to, given the choice.

The dishwasher beeped and ground to a silent stop. I eased off my designer kitchen stool and approached it. As I bent to open it, I heard the familiar sound of a key in the front door. Time for the mundane later; Miriam was home. We hugged and kissed in the hallway before she even had time to take her coat off. It had been a week and I was glad to see her back home again. Five years is a long time for me, and the truth is the flat seemed empty without her. In the kitchen later, with her coat off and relaxing after her long drive home she looked around approvingly.

“Someone’s been busy,” she said, with just the hint of sarcasm, “can I assume the cheap floozies are gone, or at least well hidden?”

“Of course, darling, just don’t look under the bed.”

I was so happy to see her back--the familiarity of her presence, the banter that was always the same but somehow never boring. The poor neglected dishwasher didn’t get emptied until several hours later when we needed plates and cutlery for the Chinese takeaway. We spent the rest of the afternoon in bed ‘catching up’ so to speak.

Monday morning it was back to work and, for once, I didn’t have to deal with any of my more objectionable clients. On Tuesday I had a meeting with one of my much more likeable people, a much older man, whose claim to fame was a lot more justifiable. He was a nice old man who’d been singing in the pubs and clubs for years and had recently had a couple of TV appearances and simply wanted to check his insurance. Easily done and we then spent the rest of our time chatting over a cup of tea. I wish more of them could be like that. A combination of work and Miriam being back home at last kept my mind away from visions of black hair … almost. Every so often I would find myself blanking out and daydreaming. I would suddenly return to reality and mentally scold myself for such lapses.

When I arrived at work on the Wednesday I was called into Edgar’s office for a meeting. Edgar was the senior partner and founder of the firm and it was he who had offered me my partnership after ten years of working for him. He was a lovely old man who was snapping at the heels of his pending retirement but was reluctant to let go completely. He wanted to discuss a potential new client with me.

“She’s a singer,” he explained, but went on quickly when I raised my eyebrows in despair, “but not one of those manufactured ones I know you dislike.”

My ears perked up when I heard this. “Tell me more,” I prompted him.

“She’s had to work hard to get where she is today,” he said, “doing the club circuit for years before finally being spotted. Her agent is sending her to us to discuss her insurance. She used to be with some two-bit firm, but they went under recently and he thinks it needs re-doing anyway. I thought you’d be ideal to have her. You’re more her age. I’m still a Frank Sinatra fan.” He chuckled and blushed when he said that.

“No problem,” I told him, “what’s her name?”

“Madi or Mada or something like that,” he said, “her family is from India. Hang on, I have a recording of her they sent to me.” He opened a drawer in his desk and rummaged around and came out with a disc in a plastic case. “Better have a listen before you meet her. She’s coming in this afternoon at two.”

We discussed a few other things and then I left and went back to my office. I made myself a coffee and then sat down and put the CD in my computer. It only contained two audio files, so I simply clicked on the first one and sat back, coffee in hand. When her voice first rang out, I sat up straight again. Her voice was low and slightly gruff, but it commanded my attention. The song was simple in the extreme but the emotion she brought to its performance was staggering. It sort of sucked you in and made you feel the anguish of the forbidden love that the song was all about. When it was over, I sank back in my chair and blew out my cheeks. Wow!

The song was about two lovers, barred by both sets of parents from being together, with the singer watching the grief from a distance. I listened again and this time realised that it was totally without a hint of gender. There was no mention of ‘he’ or ‘she’ anywhere in the lyrics which seemed to add to its beauty and poignancy.

I clicked on the second file. This time both the song and the voice were lighter in mood. The lovers were together albeit briefly and secretly, pondering what the future might hold for them. It was a far more optimistic song. I sat in silence after that, letting the feelings drift through me.

When I got back after lunch, I found a large brown envelope on my desk. It contained all the paperwork from her previous insurer. It was a simple contract with none of the usual weird riders or demands. It gave her name simply as Madur. Just the one word, no sign that it was a first or second name. I guessed it was Indian in origin, but I wasn’t really sure. The phone rang just as I finished reading it. It was reception telling me that a ‘Ms Madur’ was here to see me, and I asked them to send her through. I stood up and went to the door and opened it just in time to find Penny, our receptionist, walking toward me followed by my new client. I took one look and I knew immediately.

I gripped the door handle firmly to steady myself and my hand shook slightly as I extended it to greet her. Somehow, I managed to speak and welcomed her. I stood aside and motioned her into my office. I watched spellbound as she passed me. Her hair was as I remembered. The colour of night and straight, cascading like a waterfall over her shoulders and down to her waist. I closed the door and paused momentarily to catch my breath. I swallowed hard, trying to regain a sense of professionalism before I went to sit down behind my desk.

Finally, I got a good look at her face and … fuck, she was beautiful. Her light brown skin bore a minimum of makeup. It needed so little as her features spoke for themselves. She smiled at me, showing two rows of neat white teeth. I almost expected one of those ‘special effect’ twinkles to appear. Her lips were picked out with a pale shade of red that worked perfectly as far as I was concerned. She was wearing a pale blue skirt suit with a high-necked white blouse underneath. To distract myself I picked up her old contract.

“Welcome, Ms Madur, I’m very pleased that you have decided to join us.”

“Well, I had to do something. My agent insists on me having insurance and recommended your firm. And, please, call me Madur, everyone else does,”

Her voice was deep and dark and husky. It flowed through the room like warm chocolate, and I could detect her singing buried behind it.

“Of course, Madur, that’s much more informal, and please call me Joss,” I managed to reply and smile at the same time. “I’ve read your previous contract and although it's rather basic it seems to cover everything. Is there anything you wish to alter or add to it?”

“My agent says I should increase the amount of insurance. I’ve been on TV a few times recently and he thinks my value has gone up because of that.”

“That’s no problem, although that will inevitably increase the premiums.”

“I think we were working on that assumption, Joss.”

Just the sound of my name in her voice sent little electric tremors running through me. To distract myself I put the papers back into the envelope. We continued for a while discussing the details before I sat back. Time to be bold.

“May I just say, Madur, I’ve listened to the songs you sent us, and I’m surprised it’s taken so long for recognition to reach you. I found them very moving.”

“Thank you, Joss, that’s very kind of you. But now if you will excuse me, I have another meeting to go to.”

“Of course, Madur, I’ll get this written up and delivered to you by this evening.”

“That would be ideal,” she replied, standing up, “I’m at the Imperial, not far from here.”

A few more niceties and shake of hands and she left, her hair swaying with each step she took. When the door closed, I sat back down and breathed a huge sigh. I realised my pussy was wet. For fuck’s sake, I was a happily married woman, but she had got me going like no one else had done for years. But she was both forbidden and unattainable fruit. I spent several minutes, clenching and unclenching my thighs before I got myself together. I picked up the old contract and went out to see my secretary. I asked her to type out a new contract, outlining the changes that needed to be made before returning to my office and closing the door.

I managed little else that afternoon and it was almost going-home time when my secretary knocked and came in with a large manila envelope.

“The new contract for Ms Madur,” she said, “shall I get someone to courier it to her?”

“It’s okay,” I told her, “give them to me and I’ll drop them off on the way home.”

She put them on my desk with a curious expression on her face, left and shut the door behind her. I sat there just looking at the large envelope in front of me. Why had I said that? Normally we would send it with a courier or post it. Why did I offer to deliver it personally? I simply knew that I had to look into those eyes once more. I picked up the phone and dialled my home number.

“Hi, darling,” I said, trying to keep my voice level. “I’ll be a bit late home, I have a meeting to go to.”

It wasn’t quite a lie but close enough to make me feel guilty. Miriam was understanding as she always was. I waited as the rest of the office slowly gathered their things and left. Finally, there was silence. I picked up the envelope with both hands and held it like a sacred text. Closing my eyes, I imagined her face. That familiar twitch between my thighs came back again. Summoning my courage, I stood up, stuffed the contract into my bag and walked out of the office.

There was no point in getting my car; the Imperial was only a short walk away. The early evening streets were alive with commuters, jostling each other in their eagerness to get home. I walked through the familiar streets feeling both excitement and fear. Was I being crazy? Probably, but I was now set on my course. The imposing façade of the Imperial came into view. It was the largest and grandest of the hotels that the city had to offer. The lobby oozed elegance and the perfectly made-up girl behind the desk simply exuded efficiency.

“I have a contract for Ms Madur,” I said, taking the envelope out of my bag.

“Certainly, Miss, one moment please.”

She picked up the phone and dialled a number, paused and then spoke into the phone quietly. After a brief conversation, she turned back to me as she put the phone down.

“She says to go straight up,” she told me, “it’s room 304. Third floor.”

She smiled at me and turned her attention to someone behind me. Alone in the lift, I struggled to control the fluttering in my tummy. The lift came gently to a halt and pinged as the doors opened. The corridor was lined with identical doors. The soft carpet underfoot muffled all sound as I walked along reading the numbers on the doors. 304, there it was. It could be so easy. I could simply knock and then hand over the contract and then run away. Except … except I knew I couldn’t. I was somehow locked into this. I tapped lightly on the door.

There was a delay that seemed to last forever. Then I heard the sound of the door being unlocked. It swung open and she was there. Her face broke into a smile when she saw me.

“Joss, I was hoping it might be you. Do come in.”

She stood aside invitingly. Dumbly I walked past her into the room. It wasn’t what I would have expected. Most of my clients would have wanted, or demanded even, the best of the suites with all the trimmings plus as many extras as their egos required. This was a quite standard room although the Imperial did not really do ‘standard’. The thick carpet led into an impeccably decorated room. Off to one side was a large bed. I tried, but failed, to ignore its presence. The main area of the room was taken up with two armchairs facing a pair of glazed doors that led out onto a balcony. Through the flimsy curtains that billowed in the light breeze, I could see the cityscape beyond. She was wearing a hotel-issued towelling bathrobe and I tried desperately not to imagine what she was, or wasn’t, wearing underneath it.

I turned when I reached the middle of the room and was surprised at how closely she had followed me. I could have reached out and touched her, leaned forward and kissed her. That thought surfaced like an unbidden hallucination. I held the envelope in front of me, a shield against my desire.

“I … I have your contract,” I blurted out, holding it out to her.

As she took it from me, I felt naked and vulnerable without its protection. She glanced at it and then tossed it nonchalantly onto one of the armchairs.

“I will deal with that later. For now, I have more important things to think about.”

Her voice was low and sultry, and she took another half step towards me. Our faces were inches apart and her eyes were steady as she gazed into mine.

“I know you were watching me at the party.”

“I … I …”

I didn’t know whether an apology or an excuse was needed. I lapsed into silence as her finger came across and touched my lips.

“Shhhhh.”

Her finger left my lips and she placed it on her own, smiling as she did so. Another quarter step and she was so close I could feel her heat and I realised I was against a wall with nowhere to run. Then, with the speed of a striking cobra, she darted her head forward and kissed me on the lips. It was a kiss that lingered before she pulled back. From inches away, her eyes seemed to freeze me in place. Then her lips were back again. This time they pressed with more force and I felt the tip of her tongue trace the outline of my lips.

Instinctively I opened my mouth and her tongue darted in to brush against my teeth. I yielded to her and opened even wider and allowed her in. I felt a hand on the back of my head pulling me even closer. I responded by playing with her tongue, entwining them round each other. I could sense the desire emanating from her as our bodies made contact. Suddenly I was spun around and made to stumble backwards. The edge of the large bed caught me behind my knees, and I fell backwards. The fall broke our kiss and I looked up from my supine position to see her towering above me.

“You’ve wanted me ever since the party.” It was a statement not a question and my expression betrayed the truth of her insight. Her eyes held mine hypnotically as she placed a knee on either side of me, loosely trapping my arms. In the lower edge of my vision, I saw her tug at the knot holding her bathrobe closed before she reached down and started to unbutton my blouse. She deftly flicked the two sides apart revealing my inelegant workaday white bra. She leaned forward to kiss me again and stretched herself out to lie on top of me. This time there was no doubting the purpose of her kiss. Her tongue snaked into my mouth and I welcomed it eagerly. With our lips locked together she rolled to one side pulling me on top of her.

She pushed at my blouse, dragging it down my arms and tossing it aside. She unclipped my bra and pulled that off as well. Her bathrobe had fallen open and I could feel her warm skin on my nakedness. She was taking charge and I was happy to let her, happy to allow her to be in control. Her next move proved that. She placed her hands on the top of my head and pushed it away from her, breaking the kiss and forcing it lower.

Robot-like I latched onto one of her nipples. It was already stiff and in the magic of the moment, I imagined it faintly tasted of baby milk. I sucked on it eagerly and then shifted to its companion. Her hands pressed my face into her breasts, her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling at it quite painfully. I was past caring; I was in a dream world where we were the only two people alive. Apocalyptic horsemen could have been rampaging across the sky laying waste to the city outside and I wouldn’t have noticed. I was waiting for her next move which I knew was coming, and which I was eager for.

The whole landscape before me when I opened my eyes was the ale-colour of her smooth and perfect skin. The pressure, when it came at last, pulled me away from her saliva-glistening nipples and forced me lower. I managed to stop briefly at her navel and dived in with my tongue. This time I could taste the residue of soap from her recent shower. My visit was cut short as she pushed me lower. At last, the ultimate prize was on the horizon.

My lips and then my cheek brushed over the meticulously trimmed patch of hair, as black as the hair that had first grabbed my attention. Slowly and enticingly her legs spread apart, gradually revealing my yearned-for gift. She opened up like a flower and my eyes adjusted their focus as I took it all in. Her pussy was so beautiful. For me, all pussies are beautiful but hers, at this very moment, filling my range of vision as it did, was a thing of extreme beauty. I licked my lips in anticipation.

And then I licked hers. That glorious moment had arrived. At first, I was tentative, almost fearful but quickly my lust took over. My tongue found and then dived into the cavern. Her hips lifted encouragingly to meet me. I cannot describe the taste of her. Many before me have tried and almost inevitably failed. All I can do is try to tell its difference from others. I imagined that I could detect her heritage, the exotic spices of the East, the beauty of the sub-continent. But these were vague and vain fancies. Deep down, my only concern was that it was her pussy. It’s what I had craved ever since I first saw her and now, I had a new ambition: to give her what her beauty deserved. I sensed she was already close; I could feel the tremors running up and down her thighs. Her fingers, already tangled in my hair gripped even tighter, but the pain was off into the distance.

When she came, she shouted something in a language I didn’t recognise and pressed me into her with a strength that was almost frightening. I was held, pressed into the damp, sweet smell of her pussy, unable to draw breath for what seemed like forever. I was almost at the point of passing out when her hands relaxed enough, and I was able to turn my head enough to take a gulp of air. Slowly the grip in my hair eased more and more before her hands flopped to either side and I was able to lift my head and look across the landscape of her body.

I couldn’t see her face, her head was tilted so far back, but I watched as her breasts rose and fell with her breathing. I remained still, not daring to move, breathing through my nose trying to inhale as much of her aroma as I could, trying to imprint it on my memory for future times of nostalgia. For a few minutes, we both lay there recovering. My jaw and tongue ached but I was happy. But my brief respite was interrupted by a sudden display of energy from above me.

I felt her move and I was rudely rolled off to one side and she slid off the bed and stood up. I lay on my back, gawping up at her. Without asking she grabbed my ankles as they hung over the edge of the bed and deftly rolled me back until I lay on my front. I started to push myself up but a firm hand between my shoulder blades forced me back down. I knew there was no point in arguing so I lay there passively, ready to allow her to do with me what she wanted. I was pulled unceremoniously further over the edge of the bed and when my ankles were released my legs flopped onto the floor.

I felt her hands moving across my bottom and then the almost silent ‘zzzzz’ of the zip being pulled down. Neither needing nor asking for my help, my skirt was tugged down my legs and thrown somewhere out of my vision. My panties, the last remnant of decency, were next to go and landed somewhere in a corner of the room. Her warm hand rested on the small of my back.

“Do not move.”

The sound of her voice startled me, and her commanding tone made me stay still while I felt her move away. I couldn’t see what she was doing, and I could make no sense of the mysterious sounds coming from somewhere out of my sight. I did sense when she returned, the bed shifting as she climbed onto it, a knee on either side of me. Something, I am guessing a scarf of some sort, slid over my eyes and was tied tightly at the back of my head. My limited vision was now gone completely. The scarf was dark red, and my world was the colour of blood.

She shifted again; this time I could feel her sitting next to me. I could feel her warm skin against my hip and down my left leg. And then her hand gently on my arse, flexing and massaging me. When she spoke again her voice was soft and loving.

“Open your legs for me.”

We had come this far together, and I was in no position to argue so I parted my knees and spread them as wide as they could go. I didn’t feel vulnerable but inviting. Above everything else, I wanted her touch. More than that, I wanted her touch on my pussy. It was crying out for contact, and its prayers were answered as her hand slipped off my bottom and slid along the cleft. A shiver went through me as it went over my anus on its way. And then she found my core, my treasure. And my treacherous cunt immediately gave my secret away. I could already detect the moisture leaking down my thighs.

For a while she was content to stroke back and forth along my lips, ignoring both my yearning cavern and my clit. And then … the first touch on my waiting clit. I couldn’t help the groan that escaped nor the shiver that went through me. These signs seemed to please her as her fingers once more traced the length of my lips and made a first foray inside me. I groaned again. It was at most a knuckle deep before it disappeared again. Her next touch was back on my clit, this time harder and more purposeful. Her finger gyrated around it and I could feel an orgasm beginning somewhere deep inside me.

Her next entry inside me was deeper and filled me with what must have been two fingers. They were slow and seemed to take forever to reach all the way. My orgasmic promise grew louder with each thrust and I could feel my juices running down my inner thighs. And then she was gone. Her thrusting fingers, the feel of her sitting beside me, even the aura of her presence. I almost cried out in anguish, but then she returned, this time behind me. I felt her hands on my hips, not a gentle presence but I was firmly gripped. Then, an intrusion between my thighs. I felt the hard, blunt end seeking and then finding my cunt.

“Uggghhhh.”

She entered me and then kept pushing. This must have been those strange noises I had heard: she was putting on a strappie. Normally I don’t like them, and the one that Miriam had brought with her had stayed in the cupboard. I was helpless to protest as the silicone penetrated me. It seemed to go on forever before it finally stopped. There was a pause which allowed me to appreciate how much I was filled, before it began to slide in and out rhythmically. I felt her hand slide beneath me and then a lightning bolt struck as she found my clit. The in-and-out thrusting continued and I gritted my teeth as I felt my orgasm readying to break out. I couldn’t hold it back any longer; it would have its explosive freedom; I was helpless to stop it. Just as it burst out, I felt a finger pressing at my anus. My body was in such turmoil it went in easily. Then, the world went black.

I don’t know how long I was out but as my senses began to come back, awareness crept over me. I knew that I was empty, even though the memory of being filled remained. There was no hand on my clit, nothing in my cunt and my arse was empty. Slowly I opened my eyes and blinked to try and bring things into focus. My blindfold was also gone and all I could see now was snow white. Confusion reigned for a moment before I realised it was the hotel bedding, crisp and clean but now rumpled. With an effort, I pushed myself up and rolled onto my side. The rest of the room slowly came into view. On the far side, Madur sat in a large and deep armchair, her hands steepled beneath her chin and a smile on her face.

“Welcome back to the world,” she said, “I think you enjoyed that.”

She was still naked but there was no sign of a strap-on. I felt awkward and in a situation that was out of my control. Waves of doubt and guilt crashed over me and I almost doubted my sanity. Somehow, I managed to sit up and started to look around me for my clothes.

“I … I … err …have to go.”

“Of course you do, you have a home to go to. Your clothes are over there.”

She pointed to the bedside cabinet. On top were my clothes, all neatly folded. I was even more puzzled. Who was this magic woman? She was so calm and unflustered. I inched along the bed until I could reach my clothes. I pulled them into my lap, suddenly needing to lose my nakedness. I searched through them but couldn’t find my underwear.

“My panties … I can’t …”

“I have decided to keep them as a memento,” came her cool reply.

I didn’t have the strength or willpower to argue. I quickly pulled on my clothes waiting for her to say something, but she remained silent, the quiet smile still in place. When I stood up and adjusted my skirt she finally spoke.

“We will speak again soon. I wish to spend more time with you, and I am sure you feel the same.”

With that, she looked away for the first time. I felt dismissed. I felt as though I should reply but could think of nothing to say. After a brief hesitation, I walked to the door. As I opened it, I glanced back but she was busy looking at something on her phone. I walked into the hotel corridor and closed the door quietly behind me before stepping back and leaning against the wall opposite. My mind was in a whirl.

I forced myself to walk the length of the corridor on shaky legs. There I paused, my finger hovering over the call button for the lift. Her last dismissive remark held a promise. A promise of a repeat performance. I closed my eyes and tried to relive our meeting. I was jerked back to the real world by the ping of the lift as it stopped at this floor and the door opened. A middle-aged couple walked out, and the woman glanced at me curiously as they walked past. I dived into the lift and frantically jabbed at the button marked ‘FOYER’.

Looking neither right nor left I made it to the main front door. Somehow, in a daze, I made it to the multi-story carpark. Sat in my car I finally relaxed a little. I had to get myself together before I drove home. I needed to achieve some semblance of normality before I faced Miriam. I was confused by the way Madur had dismissed me.

On the one hand, it felt like she was discarding me and yet she had said we would meet again. I felt guilty for cheating on Miriam, but I wasn’t sure that I wouldn’t do it again.

To be continued.