My Yuri Harem 37 A Whole Lot Of...Nothing

*THUMP* *THUMP* *THUMP*

I slowly opened my eyes when I heard the knocks on the door. It took me a while to realize my reality.

It was morning. The timid chirping of birds signaled the dawn of a new day. So did the cool ambience of the room.

Rays of sun pierced the thick black clouds to illuminate the world outside. Now that I was conscious a little more I could hear the voices outside going about their lives. That is when my thoughts of yesterday cluttered in my brain and everything of the recent past came back to me.

*THUMP*

Another dull hit on the door had me sitting up on my bed. I pushed myself off from the dark blue bed sheet and stumbled towards the door. I extended my arm over my head until I touched the cold metal. I turned it around and unclasped the flush bolt, giving myself the opportunity to face the world. Once again.

I slowly opened the door to see Amaan standing there with a mug of hot coffee. January's winter is not forgiving, especially for cities near Tropical Zone. Granted, we fell into Temperate, but the winter was still a formidable enemy to us hairless apes. And yet, Amaan managed to rock her signature black laced lingerie flawlessly. It was an impressive feat, and a visual treat. To be woken up by her while she put in minimum effort to cover her skin was becoming a desire very fast. And that white robe did nothing except accentuate her curves. The way her open robe suspended itself after touching her b.r.e.a.s.t.s did nothing less than cast magic in my mind.

"Hey, doll, you have been in this room for more than twelve hours. And no food too. Here, have some coffee."

She extended her arm and offered me the hot beverage. I looked at her, and I looked at the mug. Then I extended my arm to push the mug away.

I rubbed my eyes and shook my head so as she knew I was not very fond of coffee at this exact hour.

She sighed slightly and put the mug on the corner of the door. Then she pushed me inside of my own room. it was not a forceful one, but I wanted it to be. I walked back and sat down on the bed while Amaan turned around and locked the door behind her.

She turned back and stared at me with her big, s.h.i.+ny eyes. I was too uninterested to imagine what she was trying to do. But when I saw that white robe slipping off her body, I was wide awake. I was fully able to sense where she could be going with it. But this was not the appropriate scenario. The curtain had just lifted and I was already in an erotic situation.

She marched upto me like a vixen and bent over, forcing me to fall on my back. The soft mattress almost enveloped my body as I exerted my force upon it, but it didn't. Instead, I had to face Amaan, who was mere three inches away from my face.

Her voice was loud enough for me to listen when she said," You have been away from your problems for a long time now, Ms. Kiyomi. If you'd prefer to stay in this room, by all means, do. But you will have to eat something. Either you eat food, or you eat me."

And there it was, an ultimatum. Either I consume calories, or I perform c.u.n.n.i.l.i.n.g.u.s.

I looked in her determined eyes for a long time. I saw how her red lips remained still, touching each other. I observed how her breath had not escalated. And I finally understood what was going on.

Without breaking my stare, I burst out laughing. The empty stomach did some contractions that made it hard for me to do so, but I did it anyway. I laughed in the face of a woman who demanded oral s.e.x first thing in the morning. The situation was absurd enough to make anyone laugh. And so it did, when Amaan broke down laughing herself. Her laugh was expressive, mine was subdued. But it was a moment of elation, nonetheless.

Amaan retracted herself and sat down next to me. I gathered my strength and sat up next to her.It was a moment in silence and solitude. Even the birds seemed to stop chirping for a while.

Amaan threw her arm over my shoulder, which seemed like she wanted to say something. I waited for her to say something, but she didn't. We were just staring at the wall in front of us. And strangely enough, it felt familiar. I smiled to myself, trying to place where was this peaceful feeling from. This sense of loneliness, that felt personal, that I had not felt since Madonna, that I had craved for more and more, especially during this turbulent times.

I felt this way because this is how I spent my day hours in the brothel. When I worked as a prost.i.tute, I spent my time looking at the tacky colored walls all day. When I was a prost.i.tute, the need to communicate was less, and the time with my thoughts was plenty. When I was a prost.i.tute, the only abuse I could bear was physical one, and emotions didn't exist because the body pain numbed it.

I had really grown, as a person, and as a human being. The same thousand yard stare I sported in loneliness of despair felt nostalgic today.

I guess it did make me what I had become.

And the minimum skin contact, courtesy to Amaan, felt warm and promising.

I could only hope that the light at the end of the tunnel was not a false positive. But that would be too predictable. And thus, I pushed Amaan's hand away from my shoulder and stood up to face the music.

I extended my arm to her and pulled her up when she gripped my palm. I knew that these early moments of the day were important to me, because there was another tale of the past that waited me.

The story of Amaan, who carved my heart and made a spot for herself. The story of Madonna, who built me and made my life worth living. The story of the two individuals that I immensely cared about.

Amaan had her robe back on and I picked up the mug full of lukewarm coffee as we started walking to the room next to mine.

Priscilla's room.

I knocked on the door. No response.

I knocked the second time. Nothing.

I knocked the third time. Unresponsive.

Amaan suggested to open the door, and while I resisted a little, it opened easily. She hadn't locked her door. Pretty balsy move for an adult woman.

We nodded to each other and swung the door inside, only to see Priscilla, naked, sleeping next to Brad, also naked.

We looked at Brad's toned, lean body and his soft blonde hair thrown over his face, and our heart skipped a beat. He was such a pretty man. We switched our target to observe Priscilla's bodacious frame that rested next to him. Her thick black hair shone in the sunlight, and perfectly complimented her fair skin.

After taking notes of their vulnerable selves we slowly closed the door and knocked on it heavily one last time. Seconds later we heard some murmurs and movements beyond the door before Priscilla greeted us in her panties. She had let her b.o.o.bs taste the morning air, and I was jealous of her confidence.

Amaan told her that breakfast was ready. She kept on nodding while being half asleep but added to not check on Brad. She said that she'd wake him up, and shut the door behind her. We giggled at her expense and walked away. This would make for a nice conversation topic, I thought to myself.

Amaan and I walked a little more and we reached Madonna's room. Unlike Priscilla, Madonna had locked her door. But she answered us just after one knock. She was fully dressed in her yellow jumpsuit. She also had her hair in ponytails, which was a new hairstyle for her.

I looked at her for a while before I realized that Amaan was nowhere to be found. I saw her at the end of the corridor, where she winked at me before escaping from my field of vision. Now, it was just me and my wife on either side of an open door.

Madonna had folded her hands in front of her. her head was down, just like yesterday. She rose her arms without looking and touched my cheeks. I was holding a mug full of cold coffee, and thus, couldn't repay the soft touch.

But I was wise enough to realize that it would be my mistake if I let my ignorance cloud my common sense. Madonna had done bad things in the past, but she did nothing of that sort since we were together. it was highly unfortunate for people she dealt with in the past, but she was a changed woman.

Therefore, I took a step back, put the mug down, and looked at her in the eyes. They were starting to produce tears. I couldn't handle myself and grabbed her face. I planted my lips onto her, and we kissed.

We locked lips, and the waves formed in my mind. It felt like my heart went into overdrive. Our bodies s.h.i.+vered every time our tongues touched each other. We let them play in each other's mouths as our saliva lubricated our parched lips. I could feel the heat that we shared, and it warmed my body as well as my soul. I could have shared the kiss with Amaan earlier today, and it would have felt like licking on ice. But this flame that lit in my throat could only be a reaction to Madonna's touch.

We separated from each other slowly, but the tender aftertouch of her kiss remained on my lips. I still had my hands on her soft face, which Madonna proceeded to grab and kiss.

"Kyo, I swear, everything I did, I did for a reason. I had been a rotten apple for a very long time. But I swear, I would never do anything to harm you," Madonna said tearfully.

Seeing her teary face made me break down and I started sobbing with her.

I knew what she had said, I knew what she had done. But I also knew what meant.

And she was earnest when she had me on her mind.

How could I ever let myself forget that?!

"I apologize for behaving like a child. I should have never behaved like I did. I'm sorry I let my fear and anger take over me. And I'm sorry for not being able to understand your turmoil," I confessed.

We cried a little, and then a little more before we collapsed in the hallway in each others arms. It felt good once I was in an embrace with the woman of my life. The dark tunnel had just become a little more illuminated.

We wiped our tears and stood back up. We grabbed each other's hands and started walking. It felt like we walked after our vows. It felt special, and yet it didn't feel pleasant. Of course I didn't make those feeling public because of my reunion with my wife. We kept on walking until we reached the table where we had our lunch a day ago.

It was empty.

"Here, Here," We heard Amaan waving her hand at us from the bar. We reached the desired position and sat down at the bar. She was sipping on her whiskey fizz at eight in the morning. I marvelled at her capacity to gulp down liquor so early in the day.

As my mind boarded that thought train we heard footsteps coming from the corridor. It was Priscilla and Brad followed by three of Amaan's maids. The two guests sat down at the bar while the maids laid out the food in front of us.

"The breakfast is a buffet. Grab whatever, how much ever you desire. The only catch? No water. Only juice or liquor," Amaan explained.

I sighed at her unconventional standards of greeting a guest, but it was interesting, if nothing else.

I grabbed one of the paper plates and loaded it with chicken, cheese, mushrooms, and sauce. I was kind of happy that there was no limit to food because I was hungry since yesterday. The state of mind had not at all changed since yesterday even post kiss. I understood Madonna, but I couldn't accept Madonna.

I was still immersed into these thoughts when Amaan broke the silence by declaring," I know the mood is b.u.mpy and you'd rather be somewhere else than sitting here. But this is crucial for someone. And that person is the couple with us. However, I am a person of love, and will never hurt a couple. Thus, I revoke myself from telling the tale between Madonna and I. However, that defeats the purpose of you people being here. And thus, I state that Madonna, you, will be the narrator of our story."

Before i could have a bite, Amaan dropped a bomb upon us. The others remained unchanged, whereas to me, it felt like chewing on gravel. The uneasiness was back, and I was not able to hide it.