The homeless and poor peoples winter feast
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8. Other People’s Hearts Ch. 06 free porn video
Sylvia hated what she’d done to Oliver, but she couldn’t see how she could have handled the situation any better. The force that pulled her towards Paul was just too strong. Once she knew he had feelings for her too there was nothing that she could do to stop the avalanche that swept her away from Oliver.
She had tried to stop it. She had put in a real effort to get their relationship back on track, she even changed all of her shifts at the hospital to avoid Paul, but resistance was futile. He had buried himself inside her. Even when she and Oliver had taken his brother’s kids to the zoo and they’d been having a really good day she’d still been thinking about Paul. She was thinking about Paul when they had sex, but she would never admit that. She thought it was the right thing to be honest with Oliver, but not that honest.
The end had come when she’d run into Paul at work. She had just finished her rounds and was about to leave when she saw him in a hallway. He’d touched her on the arm.
‘I’ve missed you,’ he said, his blue eyes boring into her.
She didn’t respond and he continued, ‘I hope I didn’t scare you away.’
He looked so earnest. His eyebrows were raised a little and his forehead wrinkled. She got the feeling the kiss they’d shared had meant as much to him as it did to her.
She and Paul were friends. It had started as a mentor-mentee relationship, but blossomed into a proper friendship. They often ate lunch together or stayed a little later after their shifts in order to grab a cup of coffee together and catch up. They talked about topics ranging from obstetrics to art to relationships to politics.
That one brief exchange, one touch of the arm, was enough to convince her that she couldn’t stay with Oliver any longer. She didn’t know for sure if things would work out with Paul, he was still married, albeit unhappily, but she was hopeful for their chances.
She had only seen Oliver twice since they’d broken up. The first time he’d come to the house with his uncle’s truck in order to collect all of his clothes and bikes, and the second time he’d taken the rest of his stuff — his books, swimming medals and kitchen gadgets.
‘What do you want to do about the furniture?’ She’d asked.
‘You keep it. I don’t want it anymore.’
‘And our accounts?’
He shook his head, defeated. ‘I don’t know. Fifty-fifty?’
‘That’s too generous Oliver, how about sixty-fourty?’ She motioned to him when she said sixty.
‘Fine. Whatever.’
It broke her heart to see him so sad and despondent, but what could she do? It wasn’t her fault she’d fallen in love with someone else. At least she’d had the decency to break up with him before anything physical happened with Paul.
She started eating lunch with Paul again and the sexual tension between them was so sharp she thought she could feel it zapping between them when they touched. His eyes lit up when she told him that she’d broken up with Oliver. Under the table his foot stroked against her leg as he said, ‘Sometimes things don’t work out the way we had envisioned.’
She invited him over to her house for dinner. Oliver had given her his set of keys and it had been long enough since the breakup that she wasn’t worried about their privacy.
She was worried about her cooking though. Oliver had always been the one to do the cooking for two reasons. Firstly, he enjoyed it, and second, he had such strict and strange dietary rules that he never ate the things she cooked anyway.
She certainly wasn’t sticking to Oliver’s crazy diet when she cooked for Paul. Something told her that she’d get a pretty strange look from him if she dished up a big bowl of rabbit food with a side of brown rice.
She settled on making pork chops the way her mom did — with jasmin rice, Vietnamese fish sauce and a little salad with spicy pickled carrots. Paul had shown interest in her Asian heritage so maybe he’d appreciate this dish.
She wasn’t sure if anything was going to happen between them but she went out and bought some new lingerie just in case. She couldn’t bring herself to wear anything from the drawer full of bras and panties that Oliver had bought for her over the years.
She needn’t have worried about her cooking. They were less than a half a glass of wine into the evening before her shirt came off and all thoughts of dinner were forgotten.
They were on the couch, kissing and fondling breathlessly, her heart racing and her lacy new panties soaked through when Paul had asked, ‘Is there somewhere more comfortable we can go?’
She took him to the spare room. It had been weeks since Oliver had moved out but for some reason she couldn’t take Paul into their bed, the bed they’d chosen together.
The spare room was fine though, and she was able to relax and enjoy the moment that she’d been building in her imagination for years.
Paul was older and although she was academically aware that he wasn’t much to look at, her heart didn’t seem to know any better. He was also smaller and less skillful of a lover than Oliver but in her frenzied state he could have been the size of a toothpick and her body would still have bucked and writhed in pleasure.
It was because she was in love. Paul may have been physically inferior to Oliver, but he more than made up for it with his personality. He had the aura of a real man. Where as Oliver often needed reassurance, Paul had the confidence of a Cesar. When Paul spoke people listened. When he asked for something people jumped out of their skin to do it for him.
Afterwards, they were lying in bed together facing each other, just touching and smiling contentedly when Paul said, ‘Sylvia, you have no idea how long I have wanted this.’
At that moment there was not a doubt in her mind that she had done the right thing.
Mila
- 25.12.2022
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