Crisis of Lust

I’ve had a rough day, and honestly, all I want is tequila, and someone to cuddle with. xoxo

Harold’s text was straight forward, and Roland had no idea how to respond. He knew if he sent the same message, he’d be called out for coming on too strong. But alas, Roland also had a shitty day, and wanted to vent to someone. Now was his chance. But it’s been an hour since Roland received the text without writing back.

It was the day after Valentine’s Day. He hadn’t even heard from Harold all day on actual Valentine’s Day. Roland made sure he didn’t check any form of social media out of fear of seeing someone he’ll regret. He posted Melanie, and Melanie posted him in return, but besides that, it took too much energy to avoid what he really wanted to do.

Roland contemplated what to do and stood still in the kitchen. The screen on his phone clicked off from being untouched. Instead of answering, he headed for the shower. He was sure Harold could wait another hour.

The steamy shower fogged the entire bathroom. His R&B music drowned out any sounds as his thoughts created pros and cons for leaving out for the evening.

Roland didn’t hear the door open and close or notice someone slip into the bathroom; he didn’t hear shoes clink into the bathroom and clothes drop to the floor; he only heard the shower stall door slowly open and there was Melanie.

Roland smiled nervously, almost sheepishly, as if she never saw him in the shower before. Her lips glossed over in rosy pink, showed off her devilish smile. She eyed his drenched body from head to toe, lingering a long look at his dick. Roland motioned his head, waiting for her to speak. More so surprised she jumped into the shower unannounced.

“I brought STK to us. I thought I’d surprise you since you didn’t respond to my text.”

Shit. That text that came right before Harold’s. “Want to do dinner at STK tonight? Or I can just come home. No big deal.

He apologized, embracing her in his arms under the water. She didn’t respond, instead she gave him a passionate kiss. They stayed like that for some time until their fingertips became pruned. “Let’s get cleaned up and take this to the bed.” Melanie whispered.

Melanie was simple, and always down for anything. Everything from her honey brown pixie cut, to her always-red manicured nails, were primp and proper. She kept her Hispanic descent behind closed doors because Corporate America. However, he knew when he saw the way her hips swayed to bachata, and her brown eyes lit up from the smell of street corn. He never understood why, but he embraced her anyway, and told her to let her hair down every once in a while. And she did.

She did so tonight, though. Fresh out the shower smelling of strong ylang ylang and eucalyptus . Going from the bathroom to the bedroom, her scent took precedent over the steak and potatoes on the kitchen counter.

After setting soft music, she danced in front of him. There were dozens of remaining rose petals across the floor from the evening before. She surprised him with red roses sprawled across the room, ice cold champagne, and fresh lingerie he picked out months ago.

Fast forward to tonight; naked and glistening, Melanie kept her curves on display. Her wide hips supported her round butt, while her breasts bounced. Her fingers glided up and down her body. She sat in his lap, grinding into him, and let her lips kiss the base of his neck and collarbones. Melanie’s tongue licked across Roland’s lips before kissing him. Her breasts pressed into his chest in attempt to bring him closer to her.

He was enthralled in his thoughts and stiff beneath her body.

Melanie motioned his hands to her butt. “You’re always so shy when we do this,” her words collided together with her movements.

But all Roland could think about was Harold. He wanted to text Harold back.

Melanie removed herself from his lip to across the bed and pulled Roland down beside her.

His urge to walk out the door heightened, and he had no idea how to tell Melanie.

She looked fascinating rubbing her nipples and playing with her pussy at the same time. Her skin resembled roasted almonds; buttery deep brown. And her fire red fingernails peeked in and out between her pussy lips. Roland enjoyed watching Melanie because she was always unhurried and zealous with herself. She made precise and steady paces up and down her clit. Her moans echoed beside him and her fingers quickening the pace against her clit. Melanie kept getting wet, continued to sigh louder with her back arched. He didn’t interrupt her; he only became her audience. Another factor that enhanced her solo session.

On the other hand, he wanted Harold here, too.

Impulsively and without thinking twice, he spoke. “I want my boyfriend here, too.”

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