The Lockdown That Turned My House into His Refuge

She woke me by brushing her lips slowly over my shoulder at first, then impatiently a second later, as if she had been watching me sleep for a while and couldn’t wait any longer.

—Wake up —she whispered—. It’s after eight.

I opened my eyes with effort. It took me a few seconds to remember where I was: not in my apartment, not in the bed where I had slept alone so many nights, but in Vera’s house, with her scent on the sheets, one of her legs still tangled with mine.

—What’s wrong? —I murmured, half sitting up.

—You have to work.

She said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, but I was still dazed by the night before and by the sight of her standing beside the bed, tousled, wearing a loose T-shirt that left one collarbone bare. I smiled and tugged her wrist until I pulled her against me.

—I could stay here five more minutes.

—Don’t play around —she cut me off, though I felt her tremble slightly when I kissed her belly through the fabric—. I thought you had an early appointment.

—I do. But not at the hospital.

She looked at me silently. For weeks I had been alternating in-person shifts with remote consultations, and the night before, when I ended up at her house because I didn’t want to drive back in the middle of curfew, neither of us had thought beyond taking off our clothes. She raised an eyebrow.

—And what does that mean?

—It means that with a computer and a good connection, I can see patients from anywhere. If you don’t mind, I can do it here.

Her expression changed. First surprise, then doubt, and finally that half smile of hers that had always turned me on more than any cleavage.

—Even so, you’ll have to get out of bed —she said.

—That’s true.

I sat up and ran a hand over my face. I looked at the clock. Ten minutes. Barely enough time for a shower, getting down to the car, going back to my apartment, or doing anything other than improvising.

—Do you have anywhere that looks professional? —I asked—. A corner that doesn’t look like a bedroom. Some patients feel calmer thinking I’m still in a normal office.

—Yes. My study.

—Perfect.

—And I’ll make you some breakfast.

—If it could be hot chocolate instead of coffee, even better.

She burst out laughing, and her laughter struck me with the same mixture of tenderness and teasing that had disarmed me since we had started seeing each other in secret. She folded her arms beneath her breasts and shook her head.

—You’re impossible. All right, doctor. Your clothes are in the bathroom, and the room next door is the study.

She turned away. Before leaving, she glanced back over her shoulder.

—And try not to make me nervous watching you work from my house.

—I can’t promise that.

Her study was the strangest and most revealing room in the entire house. It didn’t look like an ordinary office, but rather an odd mixture of personal refuge and a place where someone needed to breathe. The wall opposite the desk was painted a muted pink, and on it was a marine mural that created an absurd sense of depth and calm. On the other side, a large window opened onto an interior courtyard, its plants damp with dew.

The desk, on the other hand, was pure disorder. Papers, notes, pens, open folders. I smiled as I moved things aside to make room for my laptop. Vera liked to be in control, but her desk contradicted every measured gesture she showed the rest of the world.

I turned on the computer and started my consultations. For two hours I barely thought about anything else. Her voice drifted in from the kitchen now and then, along with the distant clatter of dishes and the scent of toast and clean soap, but I kept my composure. When the door opened without a sound, I was finishing a video call.

I saw her in the dark reflection of the screen, standing motionless in the doorway with a tray in her hands. She waited until I ended the session, then came forward slowly, careful not to enter the camera’s view.

—You didn’t have to do all that —I said when I saw the breakfast.

—I was already making mine. Don’t be dramatic.

She set the tray in a corner of the desk: a cup of hot chocolate, cookies, juice, water. Everything arranged with such domestic care that it disarmed me more than seeing her naked would have.

She leaned toward me just enough for her hair to brush my cheek.

—Besides —she murmured—, after what you did to me last night, feeding you is the least I can do.

And she left before I could grab her.

Her words made me hard instantly. I stared at the closed door and had to adjust my position in the chair before opening the next consultation. Seeing three more patients with my cock straining against my trousers was far from comfortable.

A few hours later I went out to stretch my legs and found her in the living room, lying on the sofa and doing exercises with a serenity I didn’t believe for a second. She was wearing black leggings and a cropped shirt. When she saw me, she looked up.

—Break? —she asked.

—My official break.

—You don’t smoke.

—You don’t have to smoke to need five minutes away from work.

I sat beside her. The sofa sank, and one of her knees brushed my thigh. It was slight contact, but we both felt it. I leaned back and closed my eyes for a moment.

—I like your study —I said.

—I know.

—You do?

—I heard you moving my things around with far too much affection.

I smiled. Just then, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I looked at the screen and saw my mother’s name. I answered instinctively. Vera didn’t take her eyes off me while I improvised a simple explanation: that I had stayed in the area, that I hadn’t felt like driving late, that I’d pick up the car later. When I hung up, the silence in the living room grew thick.

—That was your mother —she said.

—Yes.

—I’m sorry.

—Why?

She slowly sat up. The confidence she had shown a minute earlier had vanished from her face.

—Because this wasn’t what you wanted to make public.

I placed a hand on her thigh, over the tight fabric of her leggings, and squeezed just enough to feel her warmth.

—I don’t mind my family knowing. It’s the curious people who bother me. It’s not the same thing.

My fingers moved slowly upward, from her thigh to her hip. She swallowed.

—I have an hour free at noon —I told her—. We could make use of it.

—Make use of it how?

I looked straight at her. I didn’t need to answer with words. Her breathing changed before her expression did.

—However you want —she whispered.

I squeezed her hip harder and stood up before I lost control right there.

—Then don’t distract me too early.

I went back to the study, closed the door, and had to make a real effort to finish the morning. Every time I remembered her tone, the way she had slightly parted her legs when she felt my hand, it became difficult to keep my voice steady. The idea of fucking her in her own house while my work laptop remained open a few yards away had me burning.

***

When I finally ended the last video call of the morning shift, she was already waiting at the study door. She was no longer wearing her workout clothes. She had changed into a dark dress, tight against her body, and heels that made her legs look even longer. Her loose hair fell over her shoulders, and she wore the restrained smile of someone who had already made up her mind.

—You didn’t have to dress up so much just to stay home —I said.

—I didn’t do it for the house.

She came closer slowly. There were still a few inches of air between us, but the tension had become physical, almost brutal. I brushed a lock of hair from her face, and she caught my hand, bringing it to her bare throat.

—I’ve been thinking about this all morning —she admitted.

—I’ve been thinking all morning about putting you in bed and making you scream.

Her lips parted. The flush rising up her neck confirmed how wet she must already be.

—Then stop talking.

I pushed her gently toward the bedroom. As soon as we entered, I closed the door with my foot and pinned her against the wall. I kissed her without restraint, burying my mouth in hers with pent-up hunger, and she answered just as filthy, biting my lip and thrusting her tongue into my mouth as if she wanted to swallow everything I had kept inside for hours.

I lowered the zipper of her dress down her back while I kissed her. The fabric opened and slipped from her shoulders. She leaned back just enough to let me work, breathing hard. When the dress slid to the floor, she was left in stockings, a garter belt, and tiny dark lace panties. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

—Fuck —I blurted.

—That’s exactly what I want —she said hoarsely.

I sat her on the edge of the bed. I knelt between her legs and spread them with my hands. Her nipples were hard and taut, and when I lowered my head, one was exactly level with my mouth. I sucked it slowly at first, and she let out a short, disbelieving moan, as if the intensity of my desire for her could still surprise her.

—Don’t tease me —she panted.

I bit one nipple, then the other. I moved my tongue up and down until her skin shone with saliva. Meanwhile, my hands squeezed her thighs, kneading hot flesh and moving inch by inch upward until I brushed the damp lace between her legs.

—Look at you —I said—. All dressed up so I can spread your legs on your own bed.

She shuddered. One hand tangled in my hair. The other went straight to my tie, clumsy with nerves as she tried to loosen it.

I stood for a moment, took off my jacket, and finished undressing beneath her gaze. When I pulled out my cock, already hard and straining, I saw her eyes fix on it and watched her brazenly wet her lips. She didn’t look away.

—Lie back —I ordered.

She did. She leaned on her elbows and spread her legs wider. Kneeling between them again, I kissed the inside of one thigh, then the other. My fingers hooked into the lace of her panties and pulled them down slowly, as if I wanted to torture her. The fabric was soaked.

—Look what you’ve done to these —I murmured, lifting them as I pulled the garment off completely.

—Because I’ve been thinking about your mouth for hours.

—Then you’re going to have it.

I raised one of her legs onto my shoulder and opened her pussy wider with my fingers. Her lips were swollen, shiny, open for me. I ran my tongue from bottom to top once, and the moan she released was so loud I had to grip her hip to keep her from lifting away.

I licked her again, more slowly this time, sliding my tongue between her folds and tasting her wetness as she writhed. Then I focused on her clitoris. I circled it with the tip of my tongue and sucked it, alternating pressure and pauses until she began saying my name like a broken plea.

—More —she said—. Don’t stop. Fuck, don’t stop.

I thrust two fingers into her at once. Her pussy swallowed them with obscene ease, squeezing them immediately. I began fucking her with my hand while continuing to eat her, moving in and out at an increasingly firm rhythm, curling my fingers inside her until I found the exact spot that made her jerk.

—There —she cried—. There, yes. Fuck, like that.

Her thighs closed around my head, but I opened them again and held her firmly. I wanted to watch her come; I wouldn’t let her hide. I pressed my lips around her clitoris and sped up my fingers. She began moving uncontrollably, fucking my hand and thrusting her hips toward my mouth with a desperation that made me even harder.

—Come for me —I ordered without pulling away from her pussy—. I want to feel it on my face.

That tone was enough. Her whole body tensed. She grabbed my hair so hard she pulled my head toward her and came with a raw moan, her belly hard and her legs trembling. I felt her clench around my fingers and soak my mouth even more, and I kept licking her through the orgasm, slowing down at the end and making the most of every shudder.

When she finally relaxed, I moved upward, kissing her belly, her breasts, her throat. I kissed her on the mouth, and she let out an obscene sound when she tasted herself on my lips.

—I felt you come —I whispered.

—Then fuck me already.

I didn’t need to hear it twice. I settled between her legs, took my cock in hand, and ran it over her wet entrance, rubbing just enough to make her moan again. She lifted her hips impatiently.

—Don’t make me wait.

I entered slowly, but without tenderness. The tip, then more, then my entire cock sinking into that hot pussy still contracting from the previous orgasm. When I reached the bottom, we both exhaled at once. She felt tight, wet, trembling. Perfect.

I started with short, hard thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in until I collided with her pelvis. The bed struck the wall in a dry rhythm. Vera’s mouth was open, her eyes bright, her breasts bouncing with every blow.

—Like that —she panted—. Like that, don’t stop. Harder.

I gripped her legs behind the knees and pushed them toward her chest. I opened her wider so I could get deeper. From that angle, every thrust went farther inside, and she felt it immediately, letting out a hoarse cry and digging her nails into my forearms.

—You love being fucked like this, don’t you?

—Yes —she said shamelessly—. Yes, I love your cock. I love the way you open me.

Her words turned me on even more. I clenched my jaw and began fucking her without restraint, with long, heavy strokes. Her pussy sounded wet and scandalous. Every time I pulled out, I went back in soaked and hot. I lowered one hand and squeezed her clitoris with my thumb, right where I knew she would lose herself.

She nearly folded in pleasure.

—Fuck... I’m going to come again.

—Do it.

—Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.

—I’m not going to stop.

I leaned over her without ceasing to thrust, licked her neck, bit her earlobe, and whispered everything filthy she made me feel as I watched her like that—open, still wearing her stockings, the face of a respectable woman completely shattered by pleasure. She answered with moans, half-formed phrases, incoherent orders: harder, deeper, don’t let me go, fuck me.

She came a second time, squeezing me like a trap. Her pussy closed in wild spasms around my cock and forced me to slow down for a couple of thrusts so I wouldn’t come instantly. Even so, I was at the limit.

I released her legs, turned her over on the bed, and put her on all fours. The garter belt was still in place, the stockings intact, and the sight sent a direct lash to my stomach. I slapped her ass. It bounced slightly.

—Stay like that.

—Yes.

I spread her cheeks with one hand and entered again in a single thrust. She arched and screamed into the pillow. From behind, I could sink all the way in with obscene ease, and that’s what I did. I began fucking her hard, gripping her hip and leaving red marks with my fingers as I listened to her moan with pleasure at every blow.

—Look at me —I told her.

She turned her face, wrecked, her mascara slightly smudged and her mouth half open.

—Tell me who gets you this worked up.

—You.

—Louder.

—You, fuck. You get me this worked up.

I brought one hand around to the front and rubbed her clitoris while I kept fucking her. The combination drove her wild. She began thrusting backward against me, seeking more depth, more speed, more of everything.

—I can’t hold back —I said through my teeth—. I’m right there.

—Then come with me.

That finally broke me. I made her sit up slightly, pressed her back against my chest, and kept thrusting while my hand worked between her legs. She came moaning my name, trembling all over, and I emptied myself inside her with a brutal jerk, burying my cock to the hilt and releasing a growl I didn’t recognize as my own. I felt my hot orgasm filling her in thick pulses as I gave her a few more slow, strained thrusts, wringing myself out until my strength suddenly left me.

I collapsed on top of her, panting. We stayed like that for a few seconds, sweaty and pressed together, my cock still inside her while her body trembled with small aftershocks of orgasm.

When I pulled out, some of the semen ran down her thigh. I followed it with my fingers, then put them in my mouth. She sucked them without taking her eyes off mine.

—You’re going to kill me —she said with an exhausted smile.

—And you’re going to make me shut myself in here forever.

She rolled onto her back, and I lay down beside her. The silence afterward wasn’t uncomfortable. Outside, somewhere else in the house, the laptop remained on, as if ordinary life hadn’t just been suspended for a while longer.

—My mother isn’t going to take this well —I murmured after a moment.

—Take what? —she asked, resting her chin on my chest.

I stroked her bare back.

—That I’m staying. That I come back. That I don’t want to leave.

Her expression softened, but beneath it was still the insecurity I never saw her acknowledge aloud.

—You’re free to leave whenever you want.

—I don’t want to.

I took her hand and kissed the ring she wore on one finger, an antique piece of jewelry she wore more out of habit than meaning. She gave a low laugh.

—Don’t attach importance to a ring.

—I’m not attaching importance to the ring. I’m attaching it to you.

She held my gaze for several seconds. Then she looked away, almost embarrassed by what she was about to say.

—Sometimes I think I’m already too late for certain things.

—For what things?

—For all the things that sound like a future.

I pulled her closer. I had spent the morning holding back desire; now I could barely contain my tenderness.

—I’m not going to argue about that while you’re still wearing your stockings and getting me hard again.

She laughed, surprised, and lowered her hand until she found me reacting again against her thigh.

—That can’t be.

—It can.

—You’re an animal.

—And you provoke me too much.

She kissed me. Slowly at first, savoring the fatigue and the calm. Then she slipped her tongue into my mouth and grabbed my cock with a newfound confidence, as if something in those hours we had shared had finally demolished the last reservation between us. She stroked it slowly, feeling it grow hard again in her hand.

—You still have half an afternoon of work —she whispered against my mouth.

—I know.

—Then perhaps we should behave ourselves.

I turned her over and left her beneath me again.

—Perhaps we should accept that it’s no longer an option.

Her laughter became a moan when I kissed her neck again and moved my hand between her legs. She was still sensitive, wet, and open from the way I had fucked her only minutes before. The thought of going back to the study later with her taste still in my mouth seemed obscenely exciting.

—Just one more —she lied.

—Just one more —I lied too.