Hurtful Pleasure 18+ (Complete Story)

Hurtful Pleasure (Episode 1)

I put one foot forward. Then another. Then the previous one. Then the other. With each step I took, my heart seemed o beat louder in my chest, like a performance of a star gangan drum player. I could now see the door. It loomed large ahead of me despite the fact that it was still quite a few steps away. It was not a very big door. Actually it was quite regular sized but with the way I was feeling, everything seemed to be much bigger than before.

I put another foot forward. Just a few more steps and I would be there.

“Stop!” yelled a voice in my head. “Go back! Go back now! You can’t go through with this.”

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“No, no, no, no,” a different voice, this one gentle and soothing and not sounding as insistent as the previous one countered. “Go on. You know you want it. You know you can’t do without it.”

I stopped. Was it so bad that I couldn’t do without It?

“Yes,” aid the first voice. “It’s that bad. Now turn around and go back to the sitting room. Watch TV. It will take your mind off it. Just don’ try to go through with this.” The other voice laughed softly. “We both know you’re not going back. We both know that you can’t resist. Why not save our time and go get it over with already?”

And like a robot, I found myself walking the rest of the distance to the door. Now I was a the door, a door I have stood before so many times but I’ve never felt as guilty standing before it as now. I wanted to go back, goodness knew I did. But I felt like I had been programmed and nothing I tried or did wuld prevent me from doing what I came here to do.

My hand stretched towards the door but just before it made contact, I snatched it back. What was I thinking? How could I even consider it? After how much pain it had caused me the previous time. And here I was, about to make the same mistake again. I can’t, I thought. I can’t do this.

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But my body was thinking differently and before I could turn around and head down the corridor, my hand reached out to the door and, before I could snatch it back again, pushed it open.

The lights inside the room had been switched off but rays of light from the corridor illuminated the room, if only slightly. It was however enough for me to see him lying on the bed, sleeping like a baby and I sighed softly. He looked so angelic in his sleep and I couldn’t help smiling, a sad smile though. Would he want me to do this? How would he react if he even knew what I was thinking? What would he think of me thereafter? My mind was in turmoil and I just stood there in the doorway looking into the room, unable to decide whether to go on or go back.

“Go back!” the first voice cried. “Go back now! It’s for the best. It’s for your own good.”

“You’ve come this far,” the second voice said. “You might as well go the whole way. What you came for is right there for the taking. Why turn back now?”

I nearly groaned at my indecision. Why could something so wonderful cause so much pain and confusion? A small chill came over me and I wrapped my dressing gown tighter around me. Then I saw “it” and I knew there was no going back. The only way I would be leaving the room was after I’ve had it inside me. I stepped into the room and pushed the door shut behind me. It made a small creaking sound as it slowly swung shut but I didn’t hear the final “click” meaning it didn’t shut completely. Consequently, the ray of the light from the corridor was now diminished to a thin line but still it was enough to keep me seeing it and I was filled with an intense, burning desire. I had seen it before, while he was taking a bath and even then I had been consumed with longing. I had to pull on all my reserves of self control to get what I had come to get in his room and leave without doing anything else.

I crossed the distance to the bed quickly but quietly. It helped that a soft rug covered the floor and muffled my steps. I stood beside the bed and looked down at him. He was breathing softly, still sleeping, and still looking as angelic as ever. A pang in my heart that hurt told me to have second thoughts. But I had made up my mind and there was no going back now. I sat gently on the bed and felt my heart freeze as the sheets rustled under me. He didn’t move and I breathed easier. I sat there for a few seconds. Then I moved closer to him. Then closer….then even closer……now were almost but not quite touching and I could hear his breathing loud and clear. It was so close to me now, loomed so large and real that I couldn’t wait any longer. I reached out my hand to touch it….hold it….nearly now……almost touching it……

“Nice try,” a male voice said. “But I’m still awake.”

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My hand froze over my target, the thin box of chocolates on the table at the other side of the bed, practically right beside the bed. Crap, I thought. How did I ever think I would lean over him to get the chocolates and he wouldn’t wake up? He slept like he didn’t sleep. The slightest movement and my husband would be up like a shot and I realized the venture was a failure from the start. He probably knew when I stepped into the room and just pretended to still be asleep. The cunning man!

“You probably saw it while I was in the bathroom,” he said, swiping the chocolates out of my reach. “I’m surprised you didn’t take it then. How many times do I have to remind that the dentist said you should stay away from chocolates and sweets of any kind? The last time you snuck one, you were here beside me wailing like a bush baby. Now you want to sneak another one. I’m not prepared to console anybody o!”

I groaned and chucked a pillow at him. He dodged it and laughed.

“You should really lay off the chocolates honey; they could make you really fat.”

“Ah, come on,” I replied. “I’ve had chocolates since forever. How come I never got fat?”

“You may get fat now,” he countered. “Then you’ll be like Mrs. Biola.” Mrs. Biola was our extremely fat neighbor that my husband had once joked looked like rhino on two feet.

I flung the other pillow at him and play-angrily stalked out of the room.

“You’ll thank me for this later,” he called from behind me. “If you’re feeling munchy, I think there’s a box of salted crackers in the kitchen!”

Crap, I thought. I hate crackers! I was about taking the stairs down to the sitting room to continue watching TV when I remembered. My sister had visited earlier in the day and had bought my ten year old son, Francis, a box of chocolates. I was quite sure he hadn’t touched it. Now if I could just borrow a piece…

So instead of taking the stairs, I turned and headed for Francis’ room at the other end of the corridor. I was very nearly at his door when my husband’s voice came again.

“Don’t even bother!”

I turned around to see him wafting Francis’ box of chocolates in the air. How in the world had he known I would think of that?

“Looking for this?” he asked.

“Er….erm…er, no, I just wanted to check if he is asleep,” I stuttered out.

“Ehn, I know. Please take all the time you want.”

I groaned again. “Out of pillows to throw?” he asked. One of my soft rubber slippers sailed through the air and hit the rapidly closed door. From where I stood, I could hear him laughing.

Crap, I thought for the third time in probably as many minutes. I’ll have to buy my personal stash. No chocolates tonight. Have to be the crackers then. They’re not that bad anyways…….