I met Stephen on the road for the first time. He stopped my bike and asked if I could drop him on the way. I had no reasons to refuse and at the same time, he looked smart and gentle. With his well-maintained body, the trimmed attire, the mustache and the attitude of a stud he was noticeable as a trustworthy person.
I offered him an extra helmet and we rode through. He signaled me to stop after a while. He thanked me and said I was a sensible driver. I casually met him the second time and I volunteered to drop him where he was heading. That’s when I got to know he was a Police officer from the drugs control unit.
We established a good friendship and we often talked on the phone.
Silmiya. There hasn’t been a single day that the name hadn’t come across my mind. Now that I am in a bigger space, with a view of the entire city from the fourteenth floor. There was a time when my office was just one storied on the roadside by the outskirts of the village.
Life was simpler back then, conserved much and things swayed smoothly. Four and a half years ago, I was younger and more content with my life. I was an ambitious twenty-three-year-old app developer with a degree in hand. At first, I used to pick up freelance projects on different websites that earned me an unusual amount of money.
I made my way up with dedication and I was told to set up my own office. That I did. The second town from my house was not heavily populated. It gave me the ideal location to set up my office – calmer and a well-suited exposure. With minimal effort, I began my venture and everything went really well.
Until one day. Working alone, coding all day has my joy wrapped in. And from time to time I have my coffee to keep me caffeinated for the day. And on that particular day, I looked just outside my glassed front, that viewed the roadside greenery, gloomy and windy. The skies had shrunken and the sun was shut.
The darker clouds had appeared from nowhere and that made my noon almost an evening. I rolled out of my chair and walked up to the glass door to have a look outside. That’s when I saw her. Across the road, was a house down the hill. In which the flatten concrete roof was aligned straight as of the road.
Freshly washed and half dried clothes were hanging on the ropes, swinging to the rhythm of the wind. A figure emerged from the tiny doorway that opened a way to the roofing. I couldn’t see her face at first. But her feet and portions of her upper body, revealing through the tiny openings of the hanging clothes.
I couldn’t tell what made me wait. That struggle I put on to take a look at her face. I wouldn’t still know why. I waited by the window, leaning against it, sharpening my vision and shuddering my shoulders in hopes of seeing her properly.
She tiptoed from one cloth to another, collecting them on her arm before the heavy rain poured. The last piece of shawl revealed her face, as she swung it down the rope in one pull. I knew she was pretty. I knew she had a beautiful smile. I wouldn’t know how.
A strip of hair fell down her face from the shawl she had wrapped around her head. It barely fell down to her tummy, covering her breasts as well as her neck. She wore a dark green kameez that hugged her curves perfectly and flared at the bottom along with her white pants.
She smiled as the first raindrop fell on her face. Then she rushed back through the doorway and vanished into the thin air. I smiled to myself and dubiously walked back to my seat. The very next day, I reluctantly looked across the road at an empty roof, before I stepped into my office.
A part of me said she’d come out again today to put the clothes to dry. I ached to see her once again. I knew it wasn’t healthy but I had to. I sat in front of my computer and stared blankly at the rooftop, waiting for the familiar face to appear. And when I almost gave up, it happened again.
She walked out with a basket full of clothes. I stood up from my seat and edged towards the glass door. She had the same head-wrap, maroon in color. She wore a black gown that fell down to her ankle and equally gulping her shape in all glory. She was light, with a golden brown, sun-kissed complexion.
She had a long pair of legs and a perfect round ass. Skinny but the right amount of flesh where it was necessary. Her face was neither chubby nor straight. Sometimes I noticed dimples as she smiled. Sometimes I couldn’t look beyond her tempting eyes. I was going crazy thinking about this girl.
I thought I was in love. Until later, I saw her walking with her husband and her two kids. I saw her in closeup. A true beauty indeed, but taken by another and mothered two little beautiful children not older than five. I was devastated with the thoughts, but couldn’t take her off my mind.
I went sleepless for nights and I even cut my wrists to bleed. I didn’t stop admiring her beauty. I somehow watched her from afar, time to time when she laid those clothes and picked them back up in the evening. I managed to cheekily direct my CCTV facing her rooftop.
A part of me said I must approach her and tell her how I felt. But this isn’t London or New York, people were religious. They were far more conservative and culturally bound to certain rules. I knew the chances I had with her were slimmer than my patience.
The desire grew within me. The love I had for her turned into some kind of a devilish lust that burnt my heart and drank up my blood. I began to follow her on the buses to see if my luck would spare me a chance to feel her up. Only once did I managed to caress her butt, less obviously.
I watched her at home, via CCTV recordings and masturbated to made up scenarios in my head. She would never know that she had a secret admirer, I told myself. Let it be so.
“Can you raid any house with your credentials?” I asked. Stephen smiled sipping on his tea. “I used to do that often.” He placed his cup on the table and looked around. He then paced forward and said, ‘Bribe was never my intention.’ He smiled. I didn’t quite get what he meant.
But he later confessed that the house I used to drop him, was some random place of a girl where he confronted her and fucked multiple times. I was speechless and was frightened at the same time. For a virgin like me, such stories can be disheartening than arousing.
My feelings for Silmiya was getting out of hands. I hated the fact that she never knew that I ever existed. Instead, she lived her life happily with her family. Leaving me miserable. I continued to have sex with her in my imaginations. But that wasn’t just enough.
“Can you raid a house just once for me?” I stuttered. “What?” Stephen asked me, taken aback. “Forget it,” I said. “No, no, no, feed me,” he smiled and took his sunglasses off. “Uh it’s nothing,” I continued to work on my computer. The thought was bizarre but I knew that was my only chance.
“Who is it, kid? Your ex?” I sensed that he was interested. “No.” I didn’t dare to look him in the eye. “Then?” He questioned. I turned the monitor back at him showing the CCTV footage of Silmiya crossing the streets. Her tight black Arabic dress revealed the shape of her thighs. Her breasts covered in her hijab and the beautiful face.
“Damn.” He said as he watched the screen carefully. “Good eye.” He smiled. “It was crazy for me to ask.” I thought of wrapping it up but Stephen had other ideas. “Woah, you quit?” I look at him in disbelief. “Are you serious?” I asked. “You want her or not?” He gave me the assuring looks.
It was a Monday morning and the ghost town hadn’t woken up yet. I had picked up Stephen from the city and slowed the bike down by my office. “Ready?” He asked. But I wasn’t. I was shaking uncontrollably and felt the anxiety shooting crackers inside of me. Silmiya would be home with her two-year-old.
She would have sent her husband to work and the older kid to school by the time. Stephen briskly crossed the road and walked towards the house. I sheepishly followed him with second thoughts. We got to the entrance of the house in the quiet isolated neighborhood.
I stood beside Stephen in hopes of seeing Silmiya and hear her talking for the first time. He pressed the bell that rang inside the house. After a while, the door parted ajar. Silmiya threw half of her face through the crack and spoke to Stephen. ‘Yes?’ In a soft, angelic voice.
My heart raced but was so happy to see, her head wrapped in a yellow shawl. “I am from the Police department. Just an inquiry.” Stephen flashed the badge. “My husband has gone to work. Can you come in the evening, please?” She voiced again.
“It is just a formality check ma’am. Can I come in for a minute?” He almost pushed the door opened and walked inside like he owned the place. That was it. Our eyes met for the first time. I could see how frightened and helpless she was in her eyes. I followed Stephen without a choice but she stood by the door.
“There is no need to panic, Ma’am. Just checking the place for drugs. Can you tell me who do you stay with?” Stephen questioned her as I stared at her like an idiot. She wore a kameez that was light green in color mixed with a mild yellow. As usual, the dress cupping her body showing no mercy on me.
After roaming around the house, checking the least cupboards and drawers, Stephen magically picked up a bag of drugs from a corner. “I have no idea how they got here” Silmiya started weeping. “Stop crying now. I have no choice but to arrest you.” Stephen said firmly.
I felt bad for her all the time but watched from the side without speaking a single word. “What is your name?” He asked. “Silmiya.” That’s how I heard her name. She didn’t stop crying. “Alright Silmiya, we will cover this up without a trail. Although I have got to arrest you on the spot for the possession of Grade One drugs.”
She sniffled and wiped her tears on her shawl. Stephen gestured me to close the door behind. I did as quickly as well as quietly as possible. Stephen escorted her to the living room and asked her to sit down. “Have you done drugs before?” Her lips began to quiver.
“Shh. I am only asking politely. You just have to answer me so that I can help you.” He said. “Do you do drugs?’ He asked again and she shook her head, ‘No.”
“Alright, then this must be your husband’s. I can leave you alone and go arrest him,” he suggested. She edged to her seat pleading him not to. “Please don’t arrest my husband, I beg you.” Her shawl slipped off her head, showing her silky smooth hair parted in the middle.
She didn’t bother to cover it back up and cried softly. “You don’t want your family or neighbors to know about your husband’s drug usage, do you?” Stephen placed his hand on her knee. “I understand. Nobody has to know.” He circled his palm on her knee area and rubbed a little higher.
Simliya cried a little louder now, knowing what Stephen wanted from her. “Please leave me,” her voiced squeaked through her tears filled cries. “Or I could take you into custody right now and things may get uglier. This way nobody gets to know nothing.” Her crying did not stop.
He held her face and made her look at him. “What did you say your name was?” Stephen asked. “Silmiya” I jumped as both looked my way. “Silmiya, yes,” Stephen smiled and turned to her, “Shall we?” He held her hand and got her up the sofa. “Please?” She pleaded still.
“My baby is sleeping in there,” she cried softly whispering her words. Stephen stepped closer to her and whispered. “You can stop crying now.” He hugged her slowly and pulled her shawl off her. I shivered literally and watched hopelessly as Stephen molested the girl I loved.
He kissed her cheeks caressing her skin with his lips and held her close to his body. She had her eyes shut tightly and cried continuously. I felt sorry for her for putting her in such a position. But I knew I wanted this. Silmiya struggled to fight Stephen’s hands on the back of her head and the other on her hips.
But she had no luck. Stephen was as built as a horse and Silmiya couldn’t even dream of winning. The more she struggled, the more he tightened his grip on her. He slipped his lips on to hers next and pushed his whole face on to hers. I heard her cries being mumbled behind that kiss.
Stephen moved his right down her back and cupped one of her ass cheeks. My dick instantly popped up watching this and I held it over my pants. She tried to push him off her but he was too strong for her. He massaged both her ass cheeks couple of more times and moved his hand to her breasts.
He squeezed her left boob vigorously as he bit her lips and tasted her face. Silmiya cried as much as she could. Prayed to her God for help. But I excitedly waited for Stephen’s next move. He pinched her enormous ass cheeks once again and pulled her kameez above.
He then placed his hands on her soft silky pants and yanked it down revealing her white panties. She tried to scream but Stephen muffled her down with a deeper kiss on her lips. He dragged her and placed her back on the sofa. He signaled me with his head to help him.
I quickly moved behind the hand-rest and held her hands, cupping her mouth with the other hand. Silmiya glanced up at me, begging me to help. I saw fear in her eyes. One side of my brain wanted me to help her, to be the hero in her eyes. But the animal in me wanted this.
To watch her being stripped like this right in front of me. I liked the excitement better. Stephen pulled her panty down to her ankle. There lay the prettiest girl I had ever seen in my entire life. A young, shy Muslim girl, a wife, a mother, stripped down below her waist.
Her kameez pulled above her tummy, revealing her milky thighs. Her shaven pussy and about to become a temporary wife to a Police officer. Her struggle increased as she realized what was about to happen. Stephen pulled his pants down and took out his giant dick out.
I couldn’t help but compare his monster to my average looking penis. He placed it in between her thighs and laid on top of her. She screamed at the top of her lungs but was muffled under my palm. “Stop screaming or your husband will pay for it,” Stephen confronted her. I sensed her struggles easing off.
I let my hands loose and Stephen began to pound her passionately. Silmiya laid there like a corpse as Stephen wiped her like never before. Tears kept rolling down her cheeks. I watched her as she was fucked, sat on the sofa against them and touched my dick.
Stephen crushed her breast over her kameez as he licked her face and continued fucking her against her will. Her hand hung on the side lifelessly. Her pants and underwear were resting at her ankles. I was eagerly waiting for Stephen to get over with it so I could have a go on her. But he was in no hurry.
He stopped in the middle. Looked her deep in the eyes and kissed her hungrily. He pulled his dick out of her and I thought he was done. But in one motion, he flipped her over. She began to cry softly burying her face on the sofa cushion. Stephen pulled her kameez up again, revealing her large butt.
He then parted her thighs a bit and entered her pussy again. Lying on top of her, rammed her again, kissing her head. He had the stamina of a real horse and of course, Silmiya could be the best fuck of his entire life. After fucking her like that for some time, he again turned her to face him.
“You are without a doubt, the best I have ever had.” He said and again slept on top of her positioning his dick into her. He kissed her lips as he was eating her. She had no energy left in her to fight him. I saw his thrusts began to pace up and he dug his face onto her neck. She cried in pain but was accepting her fate.
Stephen moaned against his thrusts and groaned as he pushed further deep into her. I knew he was emptying his balls into her womb. My love for her was completely gone by then. She was no longer that innocent girl I fell in love with. I was ready for her then.
Stephen kissed her lips one last time and pulled his pants up. He collected himself and fell into the sofa next to me. I knew it was my turn. But I didn’t have the nerve to do it. Somehow, I pulled myself together and walked over to the sofa.
Silmiya had pulled her kameez down to cover her pussy that was fucked as she had never imagined. Her weeping hadn’t stopped. I pulled my pants down and found my dick erect that inched almost half of Stephen’s. I turned to see Stephen resting on the couch breathing heavily.
I slowly pulled her kameez up and parted her legs. Terrified, Silmiya looked at me and pleaded again. “Please, don’t.” That put me on the edge. I slept on top of her and guided my dick inside her used pussy. She wasn’t protesting. Maybe she was too tired to even try.
I started pumping in and out of her, admiring her face, thanking God for such an opportunity. I kissed her lips and then her cheeks up to her ears. “I love you,” I whispered. I didn’t dare to get back to my office after that. I cried for days thinking of the demeaning thing I had done for Silmiya.
I moved out of town, in hopes of living far away. Away from Silmiya and her thoughts.