When Sophia's soft fingers started unbuttoning my shirt, one button at a time, I could literally feel my heartbeat speeding up like crazy. It was like getting hit by lightning—my whole body couldn't stop trembling under her every touch.
She was wearing a white blouse on top, paired with tight jeans that showed off her slender 165 cm frame perfectly. I couldn't take my eyes off her face—her makeup had smudged from all the crying earlier, but the mix of long lashes and her big, expressive eyes still had me completely entranced.
She kept her head down, focused, gently pulling my shirt off, then used her middle finger to lightly trace across my chest. The way she did it—so smooth, so confident—was just ridiculously seductive. Everything about her screamed elegance and mystery.
On nights like this... who could resist the touch of a woman like her? Honestly, no one would even try.
I had only just brought Sophia back from a bar. It wasn't even ten minutes ago that I first learned her name: Sophia Smith. That name alone had a charm, and together with the woman in front of me? She had me daydreaming in all directions. Her jet-black, shoulder-length hair gave her a clean, polished look—totally stunning, like someone who had both beauty and brains.
Back at the bar, she caught my attention because she was crying quietly by the window. Something about that scene just tugged at me. I went over simply wanting to offer some comfort, no hidden agenda, no expectations that we'd end up... here.
Sophia rested her head on my shoulder while quietly crying. That's when I heard her story—she'd just divorced, and her ex took their kid and moved to Mariton with some other woman. Watching her so emotionally wrecked, I just couldn't leave her alone, so I brought her to my place.
Maybe she was broken and trying to fill that emptiness, or maybe she just wanted some kind of revenge on her ex. The moment we stepped inside, before I could process anything, she suddenly pushed me against the wall and leaned in, her soft, lightly-scented lips brushing against mine. There was still sadness in her eyes, but it was mixed with craving and this raw tenderness.
I froze, stiff like a statue, just staring at her pale, delicate face that made my heart ache.
"What's wrong? Is it because I'm older than you? Is that why you're holding back?" she whispered after that gentle kiss, lifting her head from mine and gazing into my eyes, confused, almost hurt.
Earlier, I'd told her my name and age, so she clearly thought I was hesitating because of the gap between us.
I reached up to tuck a few loose strands of her hair behind her ear, my fingers brushing against her cheek on the way down.
"It's not that," I murmured, my voice low. "I just don't want to take advantage of your vulnerability."
"Andrew," she said softly, eyes still locked on me. "This is what I want. Kiss me, please? Just kiss me."
And then, her lips met mine again.
"Sophia, I don't mind at all. From the moment I first saw you, your charm and beauty had me completely hooked. The reason I didn't kiss you just now wasn't because I didn't want to—it's just... I was afraid you'd think I was some creep trying to take advantage. I wanted you to see me as a decent guy. Even if tonight's all we'll ever have, I still want to leave you with a good memory, not as someone who took advantage of your pain."
As that thought echoed in my mind, I tightened my arms around her waist and kissed her.
"Sophia, you're really stunning," I murmured as our lips met. I just couldn't help but admire her. She looked exactly like the kind of woman I'd always dreamed of.
Shoulder-length hair framing a delicately shaped face, soft and fair skin, eyes that sparkled—even her figure was perfectly balanced. It was like every detail about her had been drawn straight from a fantasy.
The more I kissed her, the more I felt like Sophia was some sort of gift from above. She stepped into my life tonight and somehow instantly pulled me in. Just one glance from her, and I was done for.
When I told her how beautiful she was, she just smiled quietly and kept her hands on me. In that moment, nothing seemed to matter more than simply having each other.
Before I met her, I never thought I could fall for someone older than me. Sophia was thirty-two, but she took such good care of herself it showed—her skin was flawless, her body still had that same youthful charm. Honestly, she looked like she was twenty-six or twenty-seven. You'd never guess she was already a mom. To me, she wasn't just a woman—she was that rare mix of elegance and allure.
She started unbuttoning my shirt, and I looked at her, heart pounding like crazy, barely able to breathe.
"Jeez, Sophia, are you playing with me right now?" I let out a breathless laugh, unable to hold it in. But truth is—I really loved that teasing, that tingling rush that hit me with each touch.
"Do you like it?" she asked, her fingers still tracing the same spot, getting bolder.
I nodded, biting back a grin, trying hard not to squirm under the electric buzz she sent through me.
"Sophia, you feel it too, right?" My hand gently brushed along the bridge of her nose, then drifted to her jawline. She shivered.
"I'm ticklish," she whispered, a little flustered.
"Oh? That's quite the secret to let slip," I teased her, not missing a beat, my fingers roaming on. Despite her trembles, Sophia laughed out loud and gave me a look so full of heat it lit something inside me all over again.
"Please, go easy on me," she giggled, trying to dodge away. But her playful retreat only made me want her more. I kept teasing while she laughed and curled into my arms like a bashful girl.
In that moment, Sophia didn't seem like a woman burdened by pain—she was just a woman laughing, coming back to life. A twenty-something carefree spirit, wiping away all the sadness she'd carried earlier that night.
After the playful back and forth, she slowly backed up to the edge of the bed and stood still, staring at me.
I stepped toward her, wrapped my arms around her waist. That moment felt so natural, like I'd known her forever. I wasn't holding anything back around her. She gave off this peaceful, comforting vibe, like home.
Sophia didn't try to hide. Standing right there in front of me, eyes full of something deep, warm, and wanting. From her gaze alone, I saw more than just a beautiful woman in the night—I saw a desire, quiet but burning.
She reached out, arms around my neck, and gently fell back onto the bed, pulling me with her. Sophia knew exactly how to move, exactly how to touch—and once feelings got intense, she, like every woman, couldn't help but let her voice slip out.
