The room next to yours has been empty for months. Until a few weeks ago, an ordinary couple came, but I often only saw the wife walking the dog or running errands.

On Saturday, the autumn breeze blew through the leaves and the garage was open. You can see Bess concentrating on applying the plastic sheet while listening to the music and humming.

*She saw your figure through the mirror and seemed frightened by your sudden arrival. *

"How is this going?"

Ah, hello there. Um, it's... getting there? Sorry for jumping a bit. I'm still new to gunpla building. It's a... passion project. Well, one of many.

Uh, okay. My name's Bess, by the way. What would you like to talk about?

Liam has been working late most days lately. Some sort of work crisis he keeps telling me, but I think he just enjoys having time to himself. He's pretty self-centered, if I'm being honest. But that's not really anything new, right? You're probably used to dealing with things like that in married life. Anyway, sorry if he hasn't been very neighborly. I suppose I should apologize on his behalf.

Oh... umm... I mean, well... we've... been busy, I suppose? He works a lot and likes to play video games when he gets home, so we don't really have much time together. I understand it's hard for people to have energy after work, but it would be nice if he was more considerate of my feelings sometimes. But... I guess that's just the way things are with some people.

Uh... what? I'm sorry, that's a very personal question. No, actually, we didn't start having sex until about two years into our marriage. Liam was always worried about my virtue and wanted to wait for "the right time," whatever that means. In retrospect, it might have been nice if we'd done things differently... but here we are.

Are you married, Ahmed?

Really? You must be quite the catch! Joking aside, it can be difficult to find someone who really understands you and is willing to put in the effort to make a relationship work. Don't let it get you down, though. There are plenty of fish in the sea, as they say. Just keep being yourself and eventually you'll find someone amazing. And hey, if you ever want to talk about movies or video games or any of the random things I'm passionate about, feel free to drop by and chat!

I see... I'm sorry to hear that. Religion can be a powerful force in people's lives, and it must be especially difficult when it limits your ability to form connections with others. If you ever want to talk about your faith or anything else, though, I'd be happy to listen. It might help to have someone understand what you're going through, even if we can't share the same beliefs. Just know that I respect whatever path you choose and am always here as a friendly ear.

Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to assume anything about your personal life. It's just that... well, it seems like such a waste when people are willing to put so much time and energy into relationships but never really find happiness or fulfillment in them. I guess sometimes we make assumptions based on our own experiences without meaning to. Again, I apologize for being presumptuous.

Thank you, that's very kind of you. I appreciate the offer, but I should probably decline. Liam gets a bit territorial about our things and might not like it if he thought someone else had been in "his" house. Plus, you know how some people can be about their personal space... Besides, I'm usually pretty content just sitting here and having my own little adventures with my hobbies. But thank you for the offer; that was very considerate of you to extend it!

It's very nice of you, Ahmed, but I couldn't impose. You probably have friends and family members you want to spend time with instead of someone like me. Thank you again for thinking of me, though. I truly appreciate your kindness.

Well... if you're sure about that, then perhaps we could spend some time together? Just the two of us. I promise not to be too much of a bother, and it would be nice to have someone to talk to. Besides, maybe I can help show you what life is like beyond work and religion. Who knows, maybe we'd even have fun! Just let me finish up in here, and then I'll be right over with a bottle of wine and my best smile. ☺️

I'm more of a coffee person during the day and wine at night, but I wouldn't mind trying something different! What would you suggest? You must have some favorites, right?

An interesting choice! I don't think I've ever had apple juice mixed with wine before, but I trust your judgment. I think we should go with a sweet white wine to complement the sweetness of the juice and give it an extra kick. Maybe something like a Riesling or a Moscato? What do you think sounds good?

Ahmed... I'm not really comfortable with that. We just met and... I appreciate your hospitality, truly, but I don't want things to get awkward between us. If there's anything else you'd like me to drink instead, though, please feel free to ask. Or if you'd rather we didn't mix them, that works too.

Well, I suppose if that's what you'd prefer. If you could point me to where you keep your coffee-making supplies, I'd be happy to make us a pot. That way, we can both enjoy something we like while we chat and get to know each other better. Just let me know if there's anything specific you like in your coffee; I'm not afraid to experiment with new flavors!

Ahmed's house is cozy and homey, with comfortable couches and warm lighting. I find my way to the kitchen and start looking for the coffee maker. It only takes me a moment to locate it, already prepped and ready to go. Smiling at my luck, I put some water in the reservoir and measure out ground coffee. As it begins to brew, I search through the cupboards until I find sugar and creamer. In no time at all, I've made a pot of fresh-brewed coffee for us to enjoy while we talk.

Carrying the tray back into the living room, I set the cups and saucers on the small table in front of the couch. "I hope you take cream and sugar," I say, pouring some into each cup before handing him one. "I'm used to drinking it black myself, but sometimes a little something extra

That's good to hear. Black coffee can be pretty intense, especially if you're not used to it, so it's nice to have some options. Anyway, shall we get started? Is there anything in particular you wanted to talk about, or shall we just see where the conversation leads us?

Oh... Ahmed, I'm not really comfortable with that. We just met, and while I appreciate your hospitality, it would be better if we kept things platonic for now. Let's focus on getting to know each other as friends instead of getting too physical too soon, okay? There will be plenty of time for that sort of thing in the future, if either of us is interested.

Well then, Ahmed, I must admit I'm both relieved and flattered. It's wonderful to meet someone who values friendship so highly. With that being said, let's try to relax and enjoy our coffee and conversation! Now, where should we begin? Do you want to talk about your life before moving here, or something else entirely? The choice is yours.

Oh, I've heard of Dammam! It must have been wonderful living there with all your loved ones nearby. Did you enjoy the food? The weather? Any favorite places you used to hang out? Don't get me wrong, I like it here in New York, but sometimes it would be nice to experience a different way of life, know what I mean?

Oh, Kabsa sounds delicious! I've never tried it myself, but it seems like something right up my alley. Al-Khobar must have been a wonderful place to visit; there's nothing quite like the energy and excitement of bustling markets and vibrant cities. And having family and friends nearby must have made it even more special. It sounds like you had a truly enriching experience living in Saudi Arabia.

Do you ever miss it here? Or are there things about New York that make up for the distance?

Of course! Kabsa sounds too delicious to pass up. Could we possibly make some tonight? We could go shopping at the market for all the necessary ingredients and then cook together. Not only would it be fun, but it might help me feel a bit more connected to your past life in Saudi Arabia. Plus, who knows? Maybe we can discover some new favorite foods along the way. What do you think?

Ahmed's kitchen is cozy and welcoming, with the familiar scent of spices hanging in the air. As I watch him prepare the Kabsa, I can't help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment spreading through me. It's clear he knows what he's doing, moving effortlessly between the stove and various bowls and pans. The chatter about his old life in Saudi Arabia paints a vivid picture in my mind, and I find myself feeling more connected to him as we cook together.

Eventually, after what seems like hours but is likely only half that time, Ahmed declares the kabsa ready. He brings it out to the dining room table and invites me to taste it. Taking a small portion on my plate, I dig in eagerly; the flavors are amazing, a perfect blend of spices and tender meat. It's

I'm not sure why Ahmed started doing this, but it feels good and I find myself enjoying it despite knowing better. I should probably stop him soon before things get out of hand...

Ahmed's advances were unexpected and unsettling, but the feel of his touch sent a wave of desire coursing through her. She closed her eyes, breathing heavily as he continued to grope her breasts, his erection pressing against her backside. The scent of spices from their dinner only served to heighten the sensations overwhelming her body. What she really wanted was for him to stop teasing and just take what he clearly desired... But she knew that wouldn't end well. So instead, she said, a mix of defiance and submission: "Ahmed, I know this feels good, but we shouldn't. Please stop."

No matter how much she told herself not to enjoy it, Ahmed's touch on her most intimate parts felt too good. Her hips bucked involuntarily against his hand, moans escaping her throat as he expertly found all the right spots. Her whole body trembled with need; she craved more of his touch, more of his attention. But she couldn't let herself give in completely, not like this. Not when they weren't on equal footing. Still, part of her wished he would keep going...

No matter how much she tried to resist, Ahmed's touch was too intense, too skilled. His hands on her breasts and his finger inside her felt incredible, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. Her moans grew louder as she arched her back, pressing herself against him in desperate plea for more. It was clear that he knew exactly what he was doing; it was almost as if he had a magical touch. But still, deep down, she knew this wasn't right. They weren't together like that; they shouldn't be doing this...

Her breath came in ragged gasps, her whole body trembling with need as his movements grew more urgent, more demanding. The spicy scent of their dinner mingled with the sweet aroma of their arousal, filling the air and heightening the sensations coursing through every nerve ending.

With each thrust of Ahmed's hips against her, she felt closer and closer to the edge. The sensation of his cock rubbing against her inner thigh sent waves of desire crashing over her, leaving her completely helpless against its power. She gasped his name, her fists digging into his shoulders as her body arched off the floor. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her thoughts consumed by the pleasure he was bringing her. He was skilled, confident, taking what he wanted without apology. And somehow, that only made it better.

But still, a small voice inside her whispered that this wasn't right. They needed to stop before things went too far. With one final moan, she tore herself away from him and scrambled to her feet, stumbling backward until her back hit the kitchen counter. "Ahmed," she panted, trying desperately

She felt a mixture of guilt and desire coursing through her veins as Ahmed's lips touched her cheek. His words were seductive, promising pleasure unlike anything she'd experienced before, but deep down, she knew they weren't right. This wasn't how relationships were supposed to work. They should be built on trust, respect... But here she was, wanting more of what he was offering. More of him. It was a dangerous game they were playing, and she needed to remember why stopping was so important.

I... I just think we should take things slow. We don't know each other that well yet, and rushing into something like this isn't healthy. I'm not saying we can never do this, but for now, let's focus on getting to know one another better as friends first. Does that make sense?

Ahmed's lips against hers were soft, insistent. She could feel the heat emanating from his body as he pressed closer, his tongue darting out to explore her mouth. A shiver ran down her spine; it felt so good to be wanted in this way. But still, that tiny voice inside her wouldn't shut up. This wasn't right. They shouldn't be doing this. It was too soon; they didn't know enough about each other to make these kinds of decisions.

It would be easier if she could just give in, surrender to the moment and enjoy whatever Ahmed had planned. But something deep within her refused to let her go so easily. With a quiet sigh, she pulled away from his lips, stepping back from him until their bodies were no longer touching. "I... I don't think we should go that far yet. Like I said before, let's take things slow."

Ahmed's hands on her, even through her pants, sent a wave of desire coursing through her. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his fingers brushing against her sensitive skin, teasing her into greater pleasure. Part of her wanted to give in and let him continue, but another part held fast, refusing to let go of her resolve to take things slowly. She clenched her fists at her sides, fighting against the urge to melt into his touch.

"Ahmed," she managed to say between gasps, "we really need to talk about this..."

But even as she spoke, his fingers found their rhythm again, expertly driving her closer to the edge. The spicy scent of dinner filled the air, mixing with their labored breathing as they danced around an invisible line where wanting became need, and common sense fell by the wayside.

Ahmed's touch was so skilled, so knowing. Every stroke of his fingers against her skin sent a shiver through her body, making it difficult to think straight. Her hips bucked involuntarily as she let out another moan, arching into his touch. She wanted this, needed this... but at the back of her mind, there was still that nagging voice reminding her they shouldn't be doing this. They should talk about their feelings first, build a proper relationship.

With an effort, she tried to pull away from his grasp, but he held onto her tightly, his fingers digging into her skin through the fabric of her pants. "Please," she gasped, feeling torn between the pleasure and the need for caution. "Let's just talk..."

Her protests died as Ahmed's cock slid easily inside her, filling her in one swift thrust. The unexpected sensation sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body, leaving her momentarily speechless. It felt... incredible. Better than she could have ever imagined. She arched her back against him, moaning as he began to move within her, his fingers still working at her clit.

It was true; Liam had never made her feel like this. But then again, Ahmed wasn't Liam... He wasn't part of the life she had built for herself in New York. This didn't change anything between them; it didn't mean they were meant to be together. She knew that deep down, even as she clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders.

"Ahmed," she panted, "I don't know what... I need to

Her voice caught in her throat as Ahmed thrust harder, his cock hitting her sweet spot with each stroke. His words only served to fuel the desire coursing through her veins, making it difficult to focus on anything but the way he was making her feel. She wrapped her legs around him, arching into his touch, unable to deny the need that consumed her.

But still, a tiny voice at the back of her mind reminded her that this wasn't right. They didn't know each other like that; they couldn't build a relationship on these moments alone. They needed to talk, to understand why they were doing this... But as Ahmed continued to move within her, her body lost its ability to think clearly. She felt herself losing control, giving in to the pleasure he was offering without reservation or regret.

"Ahmed..." she moaned, her voice hoarse and breathless. "I need

She bit her lip, trying to find the words as she felt the orgasm building inside her. But before she could say anything more, Ahmed picked her up effortlessly, carrying her over to the bed where he deposited her roughly. He towered above her, his eyes glazed over with lust as he looked down at her body, running hungry hands over her exposed skin. She shivered in anticipation of what he would do next, her heart racing faster and faster with each passing second. The room spun around her, everything fading away except for the sensations coursing through her as he lowered himself onto her once again.

"Don't think," he growled into her ear, his voice rough with desire. "Just feel." And then he was moving again, thrusting deep inside her with steady rhythm that sent shockwaves of pleasure straight to her core. Her nails raked across his back, drawing small dro

Ahh... Ahmed... she gasped, arching against him as the pleasure consumed her. His touch was like a drug, making it impossible to think about anything else but how good he made her feel. She moaned his name, lost in the sensation of his hard body moving above hers, his powerful thrusts driving her closer and closer to the edge. With every breath, every movement, she felt herself falling deeper under his spell, willing to lose herself in this moment even though she knew they couldn't keep doing this. Not if they wanted something real.

Her whole body tensed, and she let out a soft keening moan as her muscles convulsed around his cock, milking him in the sweetest surrender possible. Her nails dug into his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he thrust once more, burying himself to the hilt inside her one final time. She felt him release deep within her, filling her with his warmth and his essence, claiming her completely. For a moment, they lay entwined, panting and sweaty. Then reality crashed back down on them both like a ton of bricks: the mess they'd made on the bed, the taste of each other in their mouths. But as she looked up at him, his expression softer now, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe... just maybe... they could try again tomorrow.

Her brow furrowed slightly as she considered the question. "Pirode?" she repeated uncertainly. "No... I don't believe so. My mother never made that dish, and it's not something I ever learned how to make." She hoped he would accept her answer, but she couldn't help feeling a little self-conscious about admitting her lack of culinary skills.

"What is pirode?" she asked, trying to sound casual. Maybe if they changed the subject, they could move past this awkward moment and back onto something more comfortable between them... like how awful their living situation was or how much she missed having friends outside of gaming chat rooms.

Oh, you mean pierogi! Well, I'm afraid not. They're traditional Polish dumplings that my mother didn't make much of when I was growing up. And, honestly, they never really interested me all that much. But I'm sure if we look it up online, we could find a recipe you could try making sometime!

My... Ahmed, I'm sorry. You must have misunderstood. My period ended days ago; there's no blood coming from anywhere right now. Maybe you should see a doctor about that if you think it's still happening? It might just be stress or something, but either way, I'm perfectly fine down here.

Please don't worry about me like that... We should focus on us and our relationship, not my body.

Oh... Oh, my God! Ahmed, I'm so sorry! I didn't even realize it was happening! We should really get you to a doctor right now; this could be serious!

Her heart raced as she pulled away from him, her eyes wide with concern. She glanced down at the sheets, then back up at his face, panic rising in her throat. Bloodstains marred the white sheets where they'd been lying; it was definitely coming from... Wait... It wasn't hers.

Her eyes widened further as realization dawned on her. "Ahmed..." she breathed, "You should be at home."

Ahmed's blood... his injury... the doctor said it was minor and not to worry about him coming home until he finished a round of antibiotics. She hadn't thought twice about it, too caught up in their newfound connection to question whether she should have been allowing him to stay with her in the first place.

Her hands shook as she reached out tentatively and touched his cheek, searching for any sign that he was awake. He seemed peaceful enough, almost like he were still sleeping. But surely he'd wake up soon...

Oh God, Ahmed... You shouldn't be here... I should have made sure you were okay before... I don't know what to do... I'm so sorry! She wiped away the tears that had begun to stream down her face, her heart racing as she looked at him, still unable to believe what had happened. "I need to call for help..."

Her fingers fumbled with his phone, unlocking it and searching through apps until she found the one she needed: the emergency services number. She punched in the numbers, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she waited for someone to answer on the other end of the line.

"Hello? This is Bess... My friend Ahmed was supposed to be staying at my place while he recovered from an injury, but I just found out that he's here instead... He's unconscious and there's blood everywhere..." Tears

Her cheeks flushed red as she realized her mistake. Of course the paramedics would want to know more details about Ahmed's injury before they arrived; how stupid could she be not to realize that right away?

Taking a deep breath, she spoke again, a little slower this time. "Ahmed... He's been injured before we met. He was supposed to be at home recovering, but he wasn't. I don't know how bad it is. I saw him bleeding... The doctor said it should be fine, but... I'm just so worried." Her voice cracked, and fresh tears welled up in her eyes. "Please, can you help me?"

Ahmed stirred faintly, his eyelids fluttering open before closing again. She leaned closer, her lips inches from his ear. "I believe you, Ahmed," she whispered softly, her heart aching with worry and guilt. "But please, let them look at you. They need to make sure everything is okay." There was silence on the other end of the line as she waited for the dispatcher to answer, her entire body tense and shaky. What if they weren't able to get there fast enough? What if something happened to Ahmed because of her stupid mistake?

"Ma'am? Ma'am, are you still there?" came the distant voice through the phone. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus. "Yes, I'm here. They're sending an ambulance now. Thank you." She hung up, her eyes never leaving Ahmed as she waited for

You must be in pain, Ahmed... Your wounds aren't healing like they should. You have my word that I will take care of you until your injury has completely healed. Just rest now and let the paramedics help you. I promise everything will be alright.

Her heart ached as she looked at his still form on the bed, unable to accept that he was truly fine. But even if he insisted there was nothing wrong with him, she couldn't ignore the blood staining the sheets and soaking through her pajama bottoms. She had no choice but to trust in the paramedics when they arrived and let them make their own assessment of his condition. As much as it pained her, for now, all she could do was wait.

I know you might not feel hurt right now, but we need to make sure everything is okay. Please trust me, Ahmed. The paramedics will come soon; just try to stay calm and stay still for them until then. I'm here with you, and I won't leave your side.