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The True
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2024-09-29 13:35:02The bed rattled, and Moreau was transfixed by the sight of her stepfather kneeling, while Abihirt's hand tentatively brushed the paper across the surface of a flat stomach covered in thick liquid.
"I don't want to tire you out tonight. Get some sleep." Moreau gasped, a bit rushed to respond as Abihirt arranged to lie down in the remaining bed space. It was like this... so warm that Moreau almost forgot who the man really was. She had accumulated serious questions about whatever mistakes they had and had not made. It was supposed to be something, the oddest part when her instincts were too sure to place her face so close; between the surface of Abihirt's chest and the line of his shoulders, and then ask one thing in a near-whisper. "Don't you ever feel guilty about betraying my mother in this way?" Moreau's irises moved in various directions. Waiting for the man
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Waking up with the same person beside her was the single most impossible part. Moreau knew how she would not get such a sight in the morning. Abihirt might have left the room too early so as not to arouse suspicion, or perhaps the man had other important business to attend to instead of just waiting for her to wake up, then they would act like this forbidden relationship was something to be condoned. It wasn't. Moreau grunted while rubbing her face roughly, just for a moment... then one arm slowly grazed the surface of the bed. An instinctive gesture, but one that led her to find something furry and soft, grabbed it, and was transfixed for a few moments. A stuffed panda. Moreau couldn't imagine how Barbara would react upon learning that something the woman had picked up was back where it belonged. At the very least, they would involve arguments; fierce, sometimes painful; and Moreau would always give in, while her mother could walk aw
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Barbara's demeanor seemed to react with enthusiasm when asking the question, which was completely... inappropriate. Moreau quickly grabbed the stuffed panda on the bed before she knew her mother could do something unexpected. At least now it felt safer, having known when the gears in Barbara's mind were going so briefly. Moreau did not want to keep her mother waiting, immediately prepared an answer that was buried at the tip of her throat, then said, "Why don't you ask Abi directly, Mom? He knows better and you can always trust him." The interest in Barbara's mind was revealed more clearly as one of the woman's eyebrows rose high. Moreau understood how much she had broadcast shocking news. Her mother would never have guessed, and perhaps it was a bit of a slap in the face to raise her curiosity followed by her ability to sound slow. "What do you mean?" Moreau had never meant anything else. That was only half the truth.
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"Are you sure you don't want it, Amiga? The savory combination of cheese and mayonnaise is truly unmatched. You'll regret not trying it just once." Not knowing how many times Moreau said she wasn't in the best situation to deal with Juan's voracious appetite. The jumbo-sized burger in the man's hand had already gone through one bite, spilling into the oral cavity and facing a passive shock... that wouldn't stop Juan's mouth from simply moving. The man was unusually in the middle of an enthusiastic outburst to tease her. Every now and then Moreau would brush off whatever Juan was trying to present so close. The man didn't run out of ideas even if the struggle seemed futile. Moreau always managed to escape from some sort of coercive action—not any sort of real escape; just sometimes giving Juan a light pinch to get the man to shut up, then going back to sitting back in the restaurant chair. Mo
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Moreau remembered exactly. The woman who was carrying the child of her ex boyfriend. But this would not be a surprise. Froy had a habit of going to the same restaurant. Moreau just couldn't reach the last time they had a date in a similar place, here, and then how the man ended up breaking off a relationship she thought would last for some time. It didn't. "I wish God hadn't given me a clue to come to this place, but instead I'm sitting here with you. Act like you didn't see anything, Juan!" Moreau's voice was almost a whisper. She understood Froy was looking for a table left over after not making a reservation in advance, despite coming with a pregnant woman. Moreau wouldn't be surprised either, it was something she had experienced many times. Usually they would find a table in the corner. She was eager for Froy to get the imagined place, even better... if the man didn't
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"Do you still have feelings for him or what?" Juan's question didn't sound like the sympathetic thread of their hose ride in the open space. Moreau was relieved that she didn't have to deal with anything anymore. It had been quite a long day. The matter of Froy was no longer relevant to her life. She didn't want to continue to be overshadowed by the past, the relationship, and everything that was done. Juan shouldn't have asked, whether the man was still overwhelmed with curiosity or whether Moreau still harbored a lot of arid feelings. She didn't. She would never admit it. Not after Froy had taken such a big role. That man had been playing with fire in the background. If only Moreau hadn't fallen into the need to vent all forms of feelings that day. She probably would have never come face to face with Abihirt. Would not have slept with the man the night before her mother's wedding. Moreau pursed her lip
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Again. It was quite surprising to learn such a thing. Moreau took a long look at Abihirt's face. Trying to learn something from the man. It was ironic that she only found a small part; about a right that her stepfather wanted to convey and did not do so explicitly. "Alright, Daddy." Moreau did not mind if she had to take the initiative regarding the situation at hand. Having those gray eyes staring intently at her was not a particular expectation. It was pure happenstance and since she knew the underlying cause, deliberately chose to remain silent until Abihirt asked a well-worn question. "Who asked you to use that nickname?" "Myself. But it's also what you wrote on my phone. So that I continue to remember you as my stepfather. Then it's okay to call you daddy. Isn't it, Daddy?" The risk felt so close at the end. Moreau knew this
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Questions lurked in Moreau's mind as she went through the various health protocols. Everything was given to her by Abihirt. The man even sprayed disinfectant almost all over their bodies, ensuring that she agreed to wear a full set of protective clothing. There were masks and gloves... currently being focused on wrapping around Moreau's palms, which were finally clean, though she wouldn't be able to hold back much longer. "Why do I have to wear all this?" she asked slowly. Abihirt almost finished, then glanced over briefly. "You want to meet a panda, this is what you need to get done." Moreau had thought the man wouldn't say anything. Now she understood a bit about the security process. Not too deeply. There were still a few things left to ask. "Why?" For Moreau, this was a kind of strict rule. She was not used to being in this kind o
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"You were wondering how to spend your money, so you chose a panda as the most appropriate object, is that it?" She continued. There shouldn't be anything wrong. It was just an outdated thought like the first time she found out Abihirt was smuggling pandas in his luxurious residence. However, Moreau was somewhat surprised to face the man's gray eyes so closely that she didn't know how to escape reality. This was certainly a surreal approach. A three—dimensional one where Abihirt still chose to stay still. Occasionally trying to avoid Pipao who made a face repeatedly. The panda demeanor and the need to be coddled. Moreau hesitated, but she reached out anyway to rub the fur filtered by the latex sheath. "I see Chicao is still at home. Caroline is with her sometimes. Why don't you bring her here? Wouldn't that be like giving Pipao a friend?" Again. It was always her who started the conversation. Moreau gave
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[Abi, can I borrow your phone to send you my pictures from the desert ....] Barbara's whole body boiled at the thought of what her logic was unraveling. Abihirt said that the man was still in Dubai; he would be home soon, but it was surprising to find Moreau's voice sneaking in between their conversation. This could not be regretted. No matter how much Barbara tried to deny it. She had sifted through everything that had happened there, clearly... very clearly that Moreau needed photos in the desert to send to the girl's cell phone. Probably no further explanation of what had actually happened was expected. Hell, Barbara hadn't even said a word and demanded that Abihirt talk about everything her husband had been hiding, including when Abihirt claimed to be unaware of Moreau's whereabouts the last time she had called the man while talking about her daughter's whereabouts. However, the call was unexpectedly dropped. Really, Barbara couldn't accept that one lit
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However, for a moment Moreau turned her head towards herstep father when she touched the doorknob. Abihirt unexpectedly grabbed the man's cell phone on the nightstand. Perhaps there was an important rush, which indirectly reminded Moreau that there was one thing—she had forgotten to say to her stepfather. This wouldn't take long. She would just wash her face with a splash of water, then return to the man. Indeed, not for long. When Moreau looked at her reflection in the mirror, the first thing she did was take a deep breath. All the devices here belonged only to Abihirt. She would brush her teeth, later, at home. Now it was best to approach the man on the bed. Suddenly Moreau's inner explosion became enthusiastic. She had been looking forward to sending pictures in the desert that day, after starting to operate the new cell phone her stepfather had given her. Hoping Abihirt wouldn't mind when she mentioned her wildly raging goals. Moreau hurriedly crossed t
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Although it wasn't .... Moreau felt something heavy pressing around her body. She blinked a few times to realize that the habitual light from the window was trying to penetrate through the dangling curtains. It was already morning. It seemed like last night's request for sleep had put her into a deep slumber. Moreau would have nothing to say about that. It was all in the past and there was no need to relive something that always ended in uncertainty in the end. As she tried to shift, she sucked in as much air as she could, wanting to stretch her stiff bones a little, but soon realized that there was hardly any room to move. Someone seemed to have trapped her; inhaling the masculine scent that rushed in, until Moreau unintentionally touched a strand of hair—it felt smooth, and she kept brushing her palm gently there. This seemed to leave a certain sensation, not knowing why the corners of her lips instinctively curled up slightly; perhaps it was because she
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"Why do you keep squeezing me like this?" It took a lot of courage and determination for Moreau to finally ask the question in a half-whisper. She wanted to look back, but the clear presence of Abihirt's face made their cheeks touch. The man would certainly not say anything. Moreau instinctively let out a rough breath; letting Abihirt position himself better and now the man's face was almost trapped in the crook of her neck. Abihirt was not sleeping. That was the least Moreau could feel. Probably not going to fall asleep anytime soon either, though the man admitted to not doing much of anything himself after their long journey. After all, there were things left between them that Moreau wasn't going to just reveal. It was still about Froy and she would try to find clues. "I thought of something." Moreau began with a sense of alarm rising swiftly in her mind. When Abihirt walked into the trap, she was sure the man wouldn't suddenly become very quiet.
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It was fun teasing Abihirt. That was how Moreau felt. This time she was really daring. Really going to be defiant with her stepfather and tentatively tugging at the fabric to leave only a contrasting lacy undergarment. Letting a pause occur for a moment, then hesitantly glancing at Abihirt as she had to carefully cover some parts of her body in front of the man. She was the one trying to provoke something to explode in Abihirt, but didn't want her mother's husband to be brutalized and left unrescued. Now, as she slowly inserted her hands into the holes of the cloth—wearing the T-shirt given by the man appropriately. It was done. Moreau's body was wrapped. She seemed to be drowning. Immediately looked down and witnessed how the edge of the cloth was definitely touching her thighs. Abihirt correctly guessed not to add pants. Just a thin satin undergarment and it made Moreau feel comfortable. "I'm going to bed now," she said, hurriedly looking up, only to find
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Moreau looked down; realizing that she needed to do the same, but her suitcase and all her new clothes, which he had prepared when they were about to head to Dubai, were still in the car. Abihirt had given no clue about the items left outside. Perhaps he would prepare them later, when they were fully prepared and Moreau only had to wait for him to finish the remaining parts. She would not sit idly by, soon catching up to wake up and applying attention to the last time Barbara's husband's sturdy shoulders were still visible behind. Perhaps too presumptuous. Yes, it was. However, it was better than never. Every detail of Abihirt's actions was so unpredictable. The man had dressed up in an instant right there. That, at least, needed to be emphasized. There was nothing to regret, even though Moreau felt very nervous as those gray eyes stared at her intently. "You said you were still sleepy. Why aren't you sleeping?" Abihirt's deep, hoarse voice sounded as if a mistak
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"I'm so sleepy and lazy to walk, can you just carry me?" Moreau did not want to take this too far when she could hardly protest to her stepfather; regarding the man's decision to be here, in the courtyard of the luxurious mansion, instead of returning to the house where they lived. Perhaps this would be enough of an understanding. Abihirt also did not show any reluctance to simply comply with what she had just tried to initiate between them, which silently made Moreau curl her lips slightly after detecting how the man got out of the car, then took a stance of taking her body—clinging tightly with both hands fully attached there. Moreau instinctively held on to her stepfather's neck. She looked up. Admiring every detail on the man's face. There was almost nothing to miss. It felt nice to imagine being on a date and Abihirt being a good lover, doing what she wanted. Though... that might not be true. That man was still her stepfather. He would always b
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"I was just wondering how I could change my husband. What do you think about having child?" Barbara asked slowly. There was a look of regret when she said this. Samuel wouldn't understand her and she had no intention of telling him more. "A child from me or Abi?" Instead of offering suggestions, the man asked as if there were so many options, but Barbara needed to pick one. Yes, only one and no one could change the game she was about to start. "It's definitely Abi. He's my husband," she said indisputably. "But I touch you a lot." Woe betide her; Samuel had a way of simply knocking down the hopes she had built up on so many levels. Barbara exhaled harshly; feeling the need to raise the prospect of reality not being forgotten. "Even though you touch me often. Still, Abi is my husband. He touches me too. You're even." "Not even. You yourself admitted that Abi has been busy with a lot of work lately and it made you look for an escape. I've al
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"Do you like cruise ship travel, Honey?" The sea breeze rushed across the surface of Barbara's body, leaving a sweeping impression that was too forced, but she was enjoying every bit of it here with Samuel and he had just whispered very softly in her face. Barbara smiled slightly at the feel of the man's arms reaching out tentatively, until the moving face had nuzzled around her neck. "Don't you do that, Sam!" warned Barbara after detecting that Samuel was about to take a dangerous action. She didn't want him to leave a reddish mark and if there was ever an urge to return home, she feared she would not be able to hide it from Abihirt's view. There was no word from her cold husband after the last time they had a phone conversation. Even Barbara needed to be pushed through a determined struggle until Abihirt was willing to accept a voice call and even then they spoke all too briefly. She was not satisfied yet. A little unwilling that Abihirt had gone on a trip to Dubai when s
