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After that terrace night with Sonia, things went quiet for a while. I didn't see her around--word was her parents caught on to her sneaking out and clamped down hard. No more hanging out with friends, just straight home from college, phone and email privileges gone. I let it be--life kept moving.
A few months later, my ex, Tara, came back into the picture. She'd had her time apart, figured she missed me, and reached out soft and sweet. We patched things up, and the spark between us flared hot in bed. Before our breakup, we'd kept it gentle, easygoing, but this time around, I was still simmering from her walking out. I let that fire loose--gave it to her steady and strong, the way I'd been with Sonia--and she leaned into it, loving every minute. We fell into a rhythm that felt new and alive.
Not long after, Tara and I tied the knot--settled into a little life together that turned routine fast. More on that in Tara's chapter down the road. About a year into marriage, we grabbed an apartment of our own--a cozy spot with hardwood floors, big windows letting in the city glow, and a lived-in feel. That's when Sonia popped up again. She'd just finished college, finally stretching her legs a bit after her parents eased up, and tracked me down. Tara was off for the weekend--a girls' trip--and Sonia called, voice warm and restless: "I need to see you." I was kicking back with my college buddy Nate--beers open, movies rolling on the TV in our living room--when she rang. "I'm married now," I said, keeping it light, "no more playing like before." She laughed, low and teasing. "I'm all wound up--help me out, or I won't settle down." I mentioned Nate was over--good guy, still a virgin, shy around women--and she perked up. "Oh, that'll do," she said, a grin in her voice. "I could have some fun with a newbie." I hesitated--"Not sure about this"--but she brushed it off, firm and playful: "Chill some vodka--I'm coming over."
Half an hour later, she breezed in--jeans hugging her like a second skin, halter top showing off just enough, a thin sweater slipping off one shoulder. She looked good--too good--and flashed me a smile as she grabbed a vodka and orange juice from the kitchen counter, joining us on the couch. We sank into the cushions--me, Nate, her in the middle--and let the night roll. For hours, it was easy--drinks flowing, laughter bouncing around, old action flicks humming in the background. She turned it up with Nate--tossing little teases his way, brushing his arm, saying things like, "Bet you're hiding some charm under there." He lit up--clumsy but eager--rarely got attention like that. I'd only told him Sonia and I had a past, kept it vague, but she was laying it on thick, leaning close to him, then catching my eye with a sly look. It felt like she was poking at me--maybe trying to stir something up--but I sipped my drink, playing it cool.
The vodka hit her after a while--her cheeks flushed, eyes bright--and she stood, grabbing Nate's hand, tugging him up with a giggle. "C'mon," she said, leading him to the bed in the corner--unmade, pillows scattered from earlier. She pulled him close--kissing him soft, then deeper--then turned to me, mischief in her grin. "Grab your phone--record this." I raised an eyebrow but reached for it, leaning against the armrest, framing them in the warm lamplight as I hit record. She went for it--hands on Nate, lips locked, glancing at me and the camera like she was putting on a little show. I let it play out--curious, caught up--watching her peel his shirt off, then his jeans, giggling as he fumbled along. Her sweater hit the floor, then the top and jeans--she was bare now, kneeling, taking him in her mouth slow and easy. Nate surprised me--shorter guy, but thicker than me, maybe a touch longer--and she worked him gentle, eyes flicking my way. I felt it--stirring in my pants, couldn't help it--her naked, him groaning soft. She caught it, pulled back with a laugh. "Nope--one at a time, you or him." I grinned, tipped my drink. "All him."
Nate was ready--she didn't waste a second. She grabbed a condom from her bag--rolled it on him slow, teasing with her fingers 'til he twitched--then climbed on, straddling him easy on the bed. She sank down--soft moan slipping out--riding him with a steady sway, moonlight spilling through the window over her curves. Nate struggled a bit--nerves getting to him, softening some--but she kept going, hips moving smooth, whispering, "You're good, just relax." She leaned in--kissing his neck, guiding his hands to her boobs--coaxing him along, patient and warm. After a stretch, she shifted--laying back, pulling him over her. "Like this," she murmured, legs wrapping around him, guiding him into her slow. He moved--awkward but trying--'till he tensed up, finishing quick into the condom with a shaky breath. She patted his chest, smiling soft--he grinned back, dazed but pleased, like he'd just won something.
Nate had to head out soon--mumbled something about work--and I knew if Sonia hung around, we'd end up tangled, Tara or not. "Drop her home, man," I said, tossing him his keys--he nodded, still half in a fog. She slipped her jeans back on--hugged those hips again--grabbed her bag, shot me a last playful look. "Next time," she mouthed, then trailed Nate out. I watched from the window--her scooter rolling off, his car tailing--city lights swallowing them up, my pulse still humming a little.
Sonia was back--full of that spark, playing games that tugged at me even now. Nate got his moment, but she left something simmering I couldn't quite shake.
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