Interlude ~ Hari's Woes

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"Mom, I don't want to go on an arranged date."

—Do you even have a boyfriend?

Hari was flustered as she clung to her phone. "Well… I don't… know?"

—You don't know? Daughter, listen, I know you're afraid, but you need to get married.

—It's dangerous out there, you need someone who can take care of you.

—Listen to your mom. That man is well-off; he's the son of a Colonel. 

Hari's hands trembled.

—He's handsome and rich, dear. He has high prospects and won't do you wrong.

—There aren't many men like him in your generation.

"Mom, no." 

—Honey, I just want what's best for you.

Hari clenched her teeth as she could feel her fingers cramp from her excessive tight grip on the cellphone.

—Come on dear, there's nothing for you to worry about, mom says he will treat you well and care for you dearly.

—I've already booked your flight.

—Give the man a chance. 

"..."

The other line went silent shortly after.

Hari didn't have any last words as she stared in frustration. The call ended on an unresolved note once more; it was not the first time her mother had tried to set her up with someone else. But last time she had managed to postpone the talk, in no small part thanks to Leandro's parents. 

There was no way out this time. She was in her mid-twenties. And her mother had always said that once a woman's past her golden years, there wouldn't be many men left that would want her. 

Hari had a hard time trying to accept that reality.

As Hari stood frozen in place, her eyes slowly grew heavy. Her mind wandered to her childhood. She recalled how she was always sheltered and kept away from boys. When she grew older, she was only allowed to go out with girls and was never allowed to go to a co-ed school. She felt trapped.

Of course, she ended up meeting guys as she grew up, but having Leandro by her side never really made her feel as if she were lacking something.

Her grip loosened as her arm flopped on one side. The phone slipped out of her grasp, tumbling on the bed, where she curled her knees up. 

Her phone displayed the screen that said Call Ended. And in the background was Leandro's picture, secretly taken, as he smiled away at something funny—probably her.

"What will Leandro say?"

"..."

"I don't want to go..."

"..."

She had always been against the idea of arranged dates, but her mother was relentless, even if she wanted to she couldn't escape it.

Leandro's face flashed through her mind. 'Can't mom approve of Leandro? Isn't he good enough?'

Why did she have to look elsewhere for a suitable partner? Wasn't Leandro smart, handsome and kind? He took care of her, loved her, and doted on her—wasn't he perfect?

He would probably be worried if he knew. 

Or maybe not?

Maybe he wouldn't care? Maybe he might even feel relieved that he wouldn't have to take care of her anymore.

It wasn't as if they were in a relationship. She knew that those things shouldn't be rushed, and it was always important to talk it out first. 

She knew it was stupid to believe, even for one second, that Leandro could possibly hate her.

But what if she misinterpreted his feelings?

What if she misunderstood?

What if he thought that she was forcing herself onto him?

What if the feeling wasn't the same on both sides and one party was more attached than the other? What would she do?

That was the reason why Hari held herself back all this time. Leandro had always been difficult to figure out, and she was wholly inexperienced in the matters of love.

She buried her face on a cushion; its softness slowly engulfed Hari's slender body, making her even more melancholy as she realized how difficult it would be for her to part with Leandro.

She didn't want to go to America.

She didn't want to meet other guys.

She didn't want other guys touching her body.

She only wanted Leandro.

Even if it wasn't possible she didn't want the circumstances of their relationship to change.

As for her feelings...well, her feelings were enough for now.

Hari was satisfied being like this: watching Leandro from afar while wondering whether they could be in a romantic relationship one day; they had even gotten closer recently! 

In fact—

She brought a few fingers to her lips, as if she could still feel his warmth there. She traced a path down her chin, right where his cum had dribbled on to. It had felt hot when it touched her skin. It left her with a tingling sensation, as it slid down her chin while the taste lingered on her tongue.

She unconsciously squirmed around, a sort of burning and itchy feeling welling up within her lower abdomen.

Was this normal? Could men and women actually become intimate and then simply say 'See you soon?'

Wasn't there some sort of unspoken rule—a silent agreement—that upon doing that they were considered, from a technical perspective, a couple?

Or would a relationship begin and die with just a kiss and cum?

Ah, she didn't know. 

With him, Hari didn't know how or why but her mind would always run blank; it became devoid of all worries, inhibitions, and reservations that she didn't know she could feel at her age.

It had all happened rather abruptly—but the taste was what lingered to this moment. Hari swallowed her spit. Her tongue felt numb and her body feverish.

She wriggled, thighs rubbing. Her hands couldn't help but make a dive for her loins, hoping her fingers would relieve her as much as Leandro's tongue did. 

With Leandro in her mind, she let her imagination take her away. Hari buried her face in her pillow as her fingers traced paths into her panties, diving between her slick folds.

They easily slipped inside, meeting the sticky, clear juice there, seeping from her core. Hari inhaled, deeply, sharply, when a thumb bumped into her clit.

It was sensitive. The bundle of nerves ached whenever her mind remembered how expertly he played it, making her twist and writhe like a contortionist with a mere touch.

His fingers were much thicker though, and longer.

And his tongue—

She screwed her eyes shut, imagining a sinful smirk as a broad tongue darted out from behind perfect lips and tickled the expanse of her exposed cunny. She jolted with every playful flick against her hood.

Except that it was all her imagination. 

As much as Leandro had given her such pleasures in the real world, fantasizing without the object of her fantasies right in front of her did little but leave a pitiful Hari writhing for something her hands could never satisfy.

'Am I a pervert?'

For someone who had never experienced such a type of physical intimacy before, Leandro had opened a whole new world for her, and now she thirsted for more experience—with him. 

Would she seem shameless if she asked Leandro? Would he reprimand her? Would he... look at her with lust-filled eyes and devour her as he once did before?

Hari let out a needy whine, fingers probing into her flesh and coaxing more fluid from her hole. Her hips subconsciously rose, undulating upon the mattress as they sought after the friction. Her toes curled as her fingers easily slipped out, a string of juice following; her butt rose off the bed for a while, thighs quivering.

"Hnn~!!"

Her whole body started trembling, while beads of perspiration had begun to well up on her forehead. Her cheeks were flushed a rose color, her gasps ringing through the silent room.

The bed was so damp that it was impregnated with her scent. Even her thighs were soaked and glistened with a clear fluid, drooling and seeping down her snatch. 

She just kept stimulating herself over and over again—and kept trying to reach that blissful ecstasy from that day. However, as much as she tried, all she did was get the bed more and more damp. She got infinitely closer to that peak, but she couldn't overcome that last wall, because he wasn't there.

She couldn't taste him on her tongue, couldn't hear the groans as his cum spilled onto her open tongue and moist lips.

"..."

Hari stopped, staring at the trail of juices that clung to her fingers, and the messy sheets that she now had to change.

Had she become such a pervert that even though Leandro wasn't there in front of her she was still aroused? She must have, Hari came to that conclusion, the more that she realized how depraved she was, how shameless—her own desire—and it was all directed at Leandro.

She uncrusted the sweaty pillow from her damp back, her eyes glassy, as she quietly stared at the phone that fell beside her pillow. She bit her trembling lips and quickly grabbed the phone, looking at Leandro's picture again.

Was she good enough in his eyes? Could Leandro find pleasure just with her?

She should ask him for... confirmation and advice; that seemed like the best course of action.

Still...

As Hari scrolled through her phone's gallery, she found quite a few more pictures of Leandro. 

Well, not quite a few—in fact, there were quite a lot.

Every picture of Leandro had her whole heart on it.

She rubbed her thighs, sighing softly. Her fingers slid over the moist pathways that led to her core.

She looked at another picture of Leandro... then went back to rubbing herself. The more she scrolled, the more those incredible sensations came back, more powerful than before. 

Would she have to keep relying on just this to find pleasure...?

She curled up, her phone tightly gripped in her hand, her juices leaking down her thighs like some sort of broken, malfunctioning pipe. 

—Beep. Beep.

Hari sat up, quickly, startled. 

A notification popped up.

She slowly reached a finger over to check it out, already dreading that it was her mother sending her flight details. 

Leandro: I'm back. 

Leandro: I'll be there soon, don't move.

Leandro: Absolutely don't move. Don't even get up from the bed.

Leandro: In fact, tuck yourself under the sheets and roll around, as if you were a burrito. 

Leandro: I have a gift for you, Noona. 

She giggled, the blush of her cheeks fading from a feverish crimson to a more adorable rosy tint. The itchy burning in her loins abated to a more subtle warmth.

Leandro had sent her the wrong emoji. It was supposed to be a smiley face with sunglasses, but instead, he sent one with a green face that looked like it was about to throw up. 

In fact, he quickly deleted the message, only to resend it again—still with the wrong emoji. 

She felt the tension disappear from her shoulders, as she relaxed.

She smiled. It was so silly, but that text message was able to calm her down, either from the stress of her arranged date, or from her poorly-managed arousal; yep, her fingers weren't enough. 

However, it was also strange. 

She was confused. Wasn't Hari supposed to be the landlady? Nevermind that, she was older, wasn't she? Yet Leandro was the one that took care of her. Not in a material sense, but in a physical, mental, and emotional sense. 

Hari was baffled.

Was it okay? Was it alright for her to act like this, to be so dependent on someone to the point of letting all of her worries be easily relieved with just a text message?

Was it alright for her to burden Leandro, when it wasn't really his responsibility, to take care of her problems? She had to be an adult too!

Uff! 

She had to be strong, but now she was always seeking and relying on Leandro for support; she couldn't seem to be independent, nor could she manage her own household affairs.

What kind of landlady did that? A horrible one, Hari concluded.

She must work harder, maybe then Leandro will not feel like he needed to take care of everything while she stood on the sidelines like an insecure baby.

As she lay there waiting, her mind wandered to Leandro.

She hugged the pillow. 

Hari clenched her fists in determination.

First things first...

"Hmm…"

With a silly smile on her face, Hari wrapped the sheets around her and began to roll around, until she became a living, human joint instead of a burrito. 

"Hehe~"