Hearts On Hold Scene 11

It was late afternoon, and the waiting for something he wasn't even sure about was starting to wear him down. Suddenly he heard the sound of an engine and Lara's key entering from the garden path. He leaned out the window and saw her getting out of the car, retrieving her backpack; she seemed agitated, in a hurry. Mario froze, he had to be very careful not to make the slightest sound, he couldn't let himself be discovered now.

The sound of the key in the lock made him jump like a spring. Mario held his breath as the door opened and Lara's heels echoed in the entrance. He heard her throw the keys on the table, then a rustle of clothes and the sound of a bag being placed on the floor. She was back.

From his hiding place in the study, Mario listened to every movement with an almost obsessive attention to try to understand where she was, what she was doing. A click and music began to spread through the house, an upbeat rhythm, a female voice singing energetically. Lara's voice joined in shortly after, clear and bright, as she hummed along with the song. She was euphoric, like he hadn't heard her in a long time. That sound tightened his heart and gave him a lump in his throat. Happy. She was happy without him. And her happiness at times began to become a bit his own. God, how beautiful she was when she smiled, when she was full of energy.

He heard Lara's footsteps going up the stairs, entering the bedroom and then moving quickly to the bathroom; shortly after, the sound of shower water began to flow. Mario closed his eyes and imagined her there, under the hot spray, drops sliding down her blonde hair and perfect body. He imagined her hands running over her skin. He remembered that time, perhaps the first year they were together when they couldn't take all their vacation together, when from the campsite where she was staying, she would send him brief videos or photos of when she went to take a shower. Her body traced by water, one hand lingering between her legs while the other caressed a breast. Remembering that brief video excited him. But even more knowing that now this shower was completely different because Lara was preparing for someone else. He imagined her face relaxing, her lips perhaps already smiling at the thought of the evening, her hands caressing herself. He wanted to see her but didn't dare move from the study.

Every second was a bittersweet torture. Mario felt an explosive mix of emotions: jealousy burning in his stomach, excitement accelerating his heartbeat, and a strange joy in seeing her finally serene. The thought of her wearing that new lingerie for someone else hurt him, but he couldn't stop wanting to see her radiant. -- Free --

The sound of water stopped and shortly after he heard the hairdryer turn on. He sometimes liked to stop and watch her in these daily rituals, see the care she took in drying her very long hair that touched her buttocks. Her statuesque body perfectly erect with the small breasts that drove him crazy.

She finished drying herself and he began to hear the bathroom cabinets opening, small jars and tubes being placed haphazardly on the sink. He imagined her carefully applying makeup, putting on that lipstick that made her lips shine, and smiling at her reflected image. Moving on to her eyelashes, and then to her cheeks to veil them with a light childlike blush. He imagined her face looking at itself in the mirror. Who knows what she was thinking, what she had in mind. What she wanted.

He heard her move to the bedroom. Everything was quieter, he could only perceive drawers opening, some heavier steps, paper rustling, that paper bag near the bedside table with the red ribbon. She was getting dressed. In his mind, Mario painted the scene precisely: Lara in front of the large bedroom mirror putting on that silk and lace set, the thin straps sliding over her shoulders, the panties perfectly hugging her hips.

The clock showed eight-fifteen. Mario could barely breathe, so great was his terror of making too much noise. A taut spring, every muscle in his body rigid. A rope pulled to maximum tension that seemed ready to snap at any moment. Time seemed frozen.

Then, the sound of the intercom broke the air like an explosion. He had been so focused on catching Lara's sounds that he hadn't noticed the car that had appeared at the entrance.

He heard Lara's footsteps running down the stairs

-- Coming! -- he heard Lara, her voice full of enthusiasm -- Wait for me, give me 5 minutes! --

He heard increasingly frantic noises, up and down the stairs, some puffing. Then back in the living room, sounds of keys placed on the glass table. He tried to peek from the study door, could only see her short dress, above the knee fluttering around the house. The muscular calves he loved to put his hands on tensed in small runs between rooms. He glimpsed her putting on her shoes, taking her coat under her arm and her bag and opening the front door. Mario withdrew for fear she would see him. There was a moment of silence. The lights went out and the house plunged into total darkness, and with it Mario trapped in the study.

He ran to the window as he heard the door close with a bang and the keys turn in the lock.

-- Sorry, I always do everything in a rush -- he heard her say as she slightly pulled back the curtain. The guy was there, outside the car, waiting for her. Dark-haired, tall, well-dressed. A confident, sly smile, of someone who is looking forward to the evening ahead.

Lara approached him. Mario got a better look at the dress, a short, fitted dress with small pink and blue flowers printed all over the fabric. They had bought it together last year. In it, Lara looked like a sinuously sculpted body, shapes well in view, bare legs. He went to meet her, hands in his pockets, approached taking her arms and kissed her on the cheek. An almost natural gesture, apparently innocent, but for Mario full of implications. She laughed, her eyes as bright as stars.

Mario felt a tightness in his chest. Part of him wanted to scream, stop them, start banging very hard on the window shouting no, like Dustin Hoffman in The Graduate when he wants to stop the wedding, tell Lara that the break was a mistake, that he couldn't take it anymore. But the other part... that darker and hidden part... trembled with excitement seeing all this. In knowing that she was desired by another. That she felt alive.

The two got in the car, he saw Lara adjusting her dress as she sat down, placing her bag on her legs and pushing towards him. Then he saw the car maneuver, exit the gate and the car's headlights slowly move away until they became just two barely perceptible red dots in the darkness. And with them Lara.

The automatic lights of the driveway went out. Everything was dark while Mario remained at the window. Now another wait began, the most difficult, heavy one. Where he no longer knew anything about what would happen. They were going to dinner, for sure. Then? For a drink? Would she want to kiss him? Would he invite her to his house? Mario pushed away that image. He would never do it. Not now. Not right away. Not like this.

He thought and ruminated about every possible scenario and meanwhile wondered how he could resist until her return. How long would he have to wait?

Everything was dark, everything was silent. Mario was alone.

In the silence of that house, one could only perceive the sound of a zip going down, of a belt loosening, of pants falling. And then gasps, sounds of stretched skin, of a hand hitting the belly.

The torment was now inside him, viscerally, and he could no longer free himself from it.