He cried hard and fell into her lap, holding her knees. Tears rolled down. In between sobs, he somehow managed to say,
"Amna is gone... she left for the USA last night... and she said she loved me... only the time... that didn't..."
A silent sigh escaped from Annie. She quietly couldn't explain, nor did she even notice why—but she was fully immersed in feeling the pain Fakhir was going through.
She remained as she was, letting him pour it all out. She knew well the relief that came from pouring your heart out to someone. She felt proud and content that she could be that support for Fakhir—her husband.
She remembered how Sameena had once consoled her a few years ago—how she held her after hearing about Habib's wedding with Rahila.
When the news broke, Ayesha and Fahmi had been crying in Zaina's room. Annie was angry and sad, and Sameena had taken her aside to her room, made her sit, and let her speak.
That day, Annie had poured out everything—the coldness she had always felt in her parents' relationship, the evident loveless marriage... and now this betrayal.
Sameena had let her lean into her, and Annie had cried in her lap... cried herself to sleep. She remembered Sameena's comforting hug, and how after that sleep, she had been able to handle the situation.
She helped her mother, stood strong, and brought things back on track.
Now, Annie slightly leaned on the headboard of the cot, held Fakhir, and drew him further into a close hug. He was almost asleep, being hugged by her against her chest.
She felt her chest getting wet with the tears still rolling down. Her hug tightened. The tears came harder—as if he were pouring them out to finish all the sorrow inside, to empty it completely.
She felt heavy, as Fakhir—completely exhausted from crying—seemed to fall asleep in the process.
She didn't want to disrupt his sleep. Slowly, she adjusted herself and leaned back, feeling tired too.
She gently patted Fakhir's broad back with her tiny hands, while the other hand ran her fingers slowly through his hair, and she gradually dozed off.
Even in sleep, whenever she felt Fakhir move restlessly, she instinctively ran her hand through his hair again, hugging him in a closer loop, gently calming him.
,,,,
He felt his cheek stuck to something. The tears that had once rolled down had dried, leaving his face pressed against the fabric of her salwar. He shifted slightly. A sudden jolt ran through his body—a natural reaction, though his mind hadn't yet fully registered the position he was in: pressed against her soft, budding chest.
He opened his eyes.
At that very moment, he felt her tiny hands instinctively tighten around him, pulling him closer into her warmth. Further into her chest. That soft heaven...
And then, he realized what had already happened—the aftermath between his legs. The sheer surge of manly energy pulsed through him, building, swelling, spreading like fire through every nerve. His mind faltered, turning into a haze. He tried to gather all the restraint and control he had ever built within himself, forcing himself not to respond, not to move—not to betray what his body wanted.
She, still in her tranquil sleep, held him even closer. Her hands roamed gently along his back—not with awareness, but in a tender, instinctive embrace. As if tracing every inch of him with unknowing affection, as if feeling all of him in his entirety. Slowly exploring...
It was killing him—each second filling him with immense, overwhelming pleasure.
In that moment, his mind was free from all sorrow. Only her—her small, delicate body and the quiet magic it radiated—seemed to pour into him, around him, through him. Like a warm surge, it swept away every problem, every tension that had surrounded them like a sudden flash flood. It cleansed him from the inside out—so completely that it felt as though none of the pain had ever existed at all.
He slowly—very slowly—moved his head up. With all the tenderness he could gather, he brought his lips to the nape of her neck, tasting that fleeting moment.
She chuckled softly, her lips stretching into a smile that lit up her cute face, radiating happiness and making her even lovelier. Her reaction encouraged him to explore further.
To his surprise, she responded.
Her hands began to wander—restless, eager—pulling him closer, holding him tighter, as if yearning for more.
Then, a soft moan, like the purr of a kitten, escaped her lips—driving him wild, setting his senses ablaze and unleashing a fire deep within him.
His hands curled around her in a swift, soft motion—so gentle that she didn't even realize her feather-like body had been completely lifted. At the same time, his hands caressed her tenderly, comforting her, encouraging her body to delve further into this intimate expedition.
As moments passed, he slowly lifted his face, and now they were facing each other—his lips just millimeters from hers, half-open, wet, yearning, pleading. And then, with the slightest tilt of her head, her lips finally touched his—the very lips that had been waiting, holding back in uncertainty all along.
That one divine touch from her invited him in, and he began his magical journey—slowly, yet passionately. Her soft moans only fueled the moment. Their bodies responded to each kiss, swaying in rhythm as guided by their lips.
She tasted him slowly, then ventured further, beginning to gently bite—sending shivers of pleasure coursing through him, setting his body ablaze.
In her nibbling, tasting trance, she accidentally bit her own tongue against his lips. A quick jolt of pain—her eyes flew open wide.
It wasn't a dream.
It was real.
The very dream she'd been seeing, feeling, lately—ever since that quiet warmth, care, and newfound respect began blooming unexpectedly from her once-silly, now-serious husband.
The music of their bodies—entwined and swaying—suddenly stilled. Their eyes met.
His gaze... those pleading, beautiful eyes.
Annie realized she was still holding his face close, drawing him toward her, while his arms wrapped her tightly against his body.
His eyes—dark with passion, lit from within—as if holding an invitation from some distant star, made her thoughts dissolve into silence. All she could do was respond instinctively, pulling his face in and pressing her lips to his once more.
And that was it.
The love-starved monster inside him, kept caged for years, was suddenly unleashed. His lips devoured hers, hungrily, desperately, suckling deeper. His hands moved over her body, not with force but with reverent care, discovering her, awakening every tender spot within her.
Her body had no will left—only to melt in his arms, to surrender. Sweat clung to her skin as she held him tighter, as if never wanting to let go. And together, their bodies resumed their dance, but this time, the rhythm soared into a higher, unspoken higher note of passion.
His fingers, driven by passion, began exploring her body—slowly, reverently—one by one undoing each piece of clothing that stood between them. She followed his lead, her hands moving in tandem with his, kissing him relentlessly, shifting, guiding, as if their bodies instinctively knew the choreography to free themselves of every barrier.
In no time, their torsos—bare and exposed—melted into each other, skin to skin, kissing deeper, as if the hunger could never be sated.
...
Her arms wrapped tighter around him, her nails digging into the skin of his back and neck, as if trying to fuse his body to hers. He pressed into her, pulling her closer still, one hand helping her mission of oneness, while the other unzipped his pants with an urgency that matched the fire between them. He flung them away with a rough sweep, his legs now free,in his underwear only, his legs free which curled against her lower body as he held her tighter, anchoring himself in her presence making her parts feel his presence over each others mere dress left to be off
Then, in a moment of softness amid the storm, his hand moved gently to the edge of her pajama, tugging at it—seeking to free her, to make space for the thudding urgency pulsing in his groin. But as he fumbled to untie the drawstring, it resisted him. The knot, stubborn and tangled, defied his trembling hands. It felt like eternity, trying to unlock a thread that stood between desire and release.
He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want to rush. But the desperation building inside him made each passing second stretch unbearably long.
Though it felt like eternity for the two tiny souls yearning to melt into each other, it had barely been two seconds. He couldn't wait any longer.
Her hands swiftly moved, untying the knot to help him. He pulled it down with his toes quickly and positioned himself over her.
He began fondling her breasts—one hand caressing gently, the other exploring her body with growing urgency. She moaned louder, her voice trembling with need. This time, he could clearly hear her whispering his name.
"Fakir... oh, Fakhir..."
But it wasn't enough. The more she purred, the more his hands refused to rest. They roamed, sending bursts of pleasure through her body. He felt her hands reaching for him, sliding over his hardness through his underwear—like a quiet invitation, like she was playing him the way he played her.
None of them were truly in their minds. It was the tender age, the grief, the silence surrounding them, and the unspoken love that held them there... or perhaps, it was just the overwhelming pull of hormones and fate.
Before he could register her hands moved again—
Then, to his surprise, her hands moved again—this time guiding him, wrapping her fingers around his depth, pulling it hastily hurting him in the process to where she wanted it to be .. . Her pleas grew louder, more desperate, as she instinctively positioned him to where she needed him most grinding against him surely not knowing how to do it but definitely with all need to do it
Their bodies, pure in desire and untouched by thought, responded with a rhythm only nature could script.
In a swift movement, he was inside her. The very moment his body entered hers, he had a premonition her moan would be louder. The instant he entered her, his mouth completely devoured hers, and the loud cry that escaped her melted down and vanished into his. The pain he brought her on his way into her core, a deep pain for her, made her acutely aware of what was happening. But by that time, his mouth, his hands fondling her tender blossoms, and his other hand caressing her downwards, were relieving her pain ever so softly, a complete orchestra. This sent her again into the magical world of sheer body pleasure, unleashing around them a newfound mystery that helped them forget everything in each other and completely, strongly rub away all existential reality.
His thrusts, now guided by pure instinct, grew deeper and harder, as if a primal greed consumed him, wanting to completely devour everything that existed inside and around her. Her pleasure moans, when he hit the right spot, and cries of pain, when his novice thrusts made their mistakes, grew louder and deeper, vanishing into the depths of his mouth. It was a silent, unknown song that only her body could feel, sending shivers through her.
Both their bodies found an extreme ecstasy they had never experienced before.Both were fully awake, completely aware of their actions. They understood, helplessly, that they couldn't stop. The pleasure devoured all their senses at the same time guilt .. , another second holding each other and trusting as hard as they could, as if it could kill all the guilt if it were there, as pure lust stirred deep within.
It was his first time. Not knowing what to do, his body simply followed nature's reckoning, guiding him. Her face began to flinch in pain, which didn't go unnoticed by his eyes. He cried aloud and thrust harder, faster and faster, bringing it to a rest.Pain, deep, deepening pain... but all she could feel was the "fakhir" within her, his touch pervasive, not separate, but the pain itself. Deep down, it was as if the "fakhir" was surrendering his hard-fought battle with one last effort.
He was helpless, . But as his helplessness deepened, he wanted to succumb to it, to stop it so she could be alright unable to do anything further he went faster he could .both of tehir body felt like dancing lightnings , power pain mystery and magical
But that final thrust hit exactly where it should, and in seconds, her whole body shivered, feeling utterly vanished. She couldn't understand what was happening to her body. It jolted every now and then, shivered, and she fainted beneath him.
He held her close, deep inside him, releasing all of himself within her. In that eternal bliss of tranquil peace, his body too shivered along with hers, every now and then, and finally came to rest. Both of them lay down, eyes closed tight, trying to realize what had happened, feeling eternity embarrassed by their mutual actions.
She felt the flow down her thighs, a burning sensation. She let out a slight sigh, drawing "Fakhir" from his state of complete blankness. He immediately pulled out, the control now back to him. She let out a moan, and it seemed he knew her well. In a swift action, he devoured her mouth with a deep kiss to silence her sound, also pleading for forgiveness.
The moment he kissed her deeply, everything stopped for him. Tears welled in his eyes. He looked deeply into her face. She was shocked when the entire pleasure roller coaster ride she was on suddenly stopped. She felt like crying, having just lost everything, her hands still holding him. She looked into his eyes, sad, as if seeking an explanation for the disbelief of what had just happened, complaining in unbelief.
He called her name, his voice shaky, "Annie... I am sorry... I... I..." He wasn't getting any words, just his remorse.
Annie couldn't see what she was holding down. She pulled his face closer to hers, looking deeply and boldly, seeking and finding the complete trust she always wanted. He nodded his complete submission in his eyes. She kissed him on his forehead, his nose, his lips—his "Fakhir." Before she could complete her thought, he said, "Annie, I love you..."
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It's not my wish 💔—it's just how my characters behave! 🤦♀️
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