The Doll Who Loved Me
Copyright© 2025 by Gigi Potemkin
Chapter 14
Drama Sex Story: Chapter 14 - The story of a lonely, young man being haunted by his sex doll.
Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Horror Mystery Dolls FemaleDom Interracial
He stared into the night. There were even fewer stars in that artificial sky. “And so we walked. We walked into parts of the city I didn’t even know existed. Parts that ... were so astoundingly beautiful.” He stopped. It wasn’t the city, or the trees, or the wind, or the sea that shone in his mind. “So pretty. So delicate and tender.” He took in some air. The wind tasted sweet. It was night, after all, or perhaps very early in the morning, and the ocean, even from far away, smelled inviting. Delicious. “Never been to a rich part of town, you know. It’s nice. You even feel like you’re part of it. Like you’re part of ... her life.” He heard nothing. After so long wanting to hear nothing, he heard nothing ... and now all he wanted was to hear something. To hear her. “Is everything alright?”
...
...
No.
...
...
Nothing.
Maybe she was gone. She’d never been there in the first place. «Yeah, but ... she is.» His eyes were on the ceiling. His head wanting, but refusing to turn and bring those eyes down, down, down... «She’s always been here.»
She’s not real. She’s never been real, and now you no longer need her. «I... » The thought left him shocked for a while. It kept repeating, banging against the walls of his skull, just like the stammer of his mind, on and on and on with the slow realization that «I...!»
He. No longer. Needed her. “Hey. Why so silent, all of a sudden?” He asked. He didn’t need to. It was silly to ask, but anyway, he was a really silly person. In a good kind of way. “Now I yearn for your voice, you know.”
Silence. There were no trees or leaves or nearby seas to smooth it out. It was just silence and ... the heavier weights of his every breath. “Hey, speak to me.” He had his mind on the doll, but his eyes remained still unforgivingly on the ceiling. “I wish to hear from you a little.”
A part of him feared...
A part of him thought ... just...
...
...
She knew he was lying. She had been quiet for quite a while. All the hour that he rambled on about his night with “the boys,” she knew it was a lie. She knew it was all bullshit—and now it was time for him to face the consequences of his lying. For him to face her wrath. “Can you please talk to me?” He turned abruptly, and all he saw was a copy of himself. “Oh...”
His doll was there. She was alive. Her eyes were opened, staring at the ceiling too, and her hands were crossed over her thick, muscular belly.
She was still, a bit motionless, just like dolls should be, and for a brief moment, a split second or even quicker, he thought, he hoped that she was just that: a doll.
Just a doll. No more than a doll. Never more than a doll. Just ... a doll. “Honey?” He realized, soon enough, that it wasn’t quite so. Her chest was moving. Her mountainous, humongous breasts were rising and falling. Very faintly, very daintily, in a subtle way that, in all that dark, could easily be mistaken for stillness, for death, but they were moving, yes, there was motion and life in her no less.
Up and down. Up and down. The slow motion of a sorrowful breath. Taking her time. Soaking up all the lies he had told her. «Wow.» She said, simply.
And then she was quiet again.
...
...
The silence. The air. «Damn... » How hard he wished the leaves were there, that the trees surrounded them with their smooth, soothing dance, their gentle sounds coating his ears so nicely.
Taking in that silence, though, that disorienting quietness, it was...
...
...!
Too much. Oh. Too much! Too much for his poor senses to bear! “I need some words here. Love.” He moved a hand over to her face. “This silence is getting to my nerv-”
Touch. The tip of his fingers.
He moved his palms to her face, touched it gently with the tip of his fingers, intent on fondling it.
Turn. She turned her face away.
«Oh.» Went his mind.
“Oh.” Went his mouth.
...
...
...
...
...
...
A couple more minutes of silence were in order.
...
...
...
...
...
...
Even though an eternity had passed, he would never be quite sure it was enough.
You’re strong.
Words of quiet came to grace his mind.
You can speak plainly.
Words of quiet from the unlikeliest of places.
Though you must be ready to take a hit. Just like I was punched, you can be punched too. You never know, after all, if the person you’re speaking to is weak or strong. Few people have the talents, the skills I do for reading other people. You don’t—not for now, so you better take it easy.
A wink. A nod. Stars brimming in a smile.
Learn how to pick your shots. Choose your first fights wisely.
...
...
He looked at her. Static. Quiet. Breathing so softly. So terribly alive. «She’s strong.» He told himself. «Is she?»
Only one way to find out. “Hey. I need you to speak to me.”
There she stayed, looking at the ceiling, blinking once or twice, but otherwise as unmovable as the mountain that she was.
He didn’t need to do this. Did he? He didn’t need to ask. «I can just ... imagine. I can imagine things and she will act as I desire.» Something got stuck in his throat, as if the thought itself had been so sacrilegious it doomed him, much like a peasant who spat upon the face of his king.
She stayed there, unmoving, untiring, not really dead, but terribly, asphyxiatingly unalive. “Speak to me.” He ordered. “I command you to speak to me.”
...
...!
His heart skipped a beat. Or seven. «Whoa!» It stopped beating altogether, blanketing his eyes in dark before its inevitable return to life. The doll had moved her head. «It ... always seems... » Like a dream, but... «so real!» There were dreams that were too real. Or was it his reality, often so numbing, that felt like a dream?
“Hey.” He welcomed her.
Her beautiful face upon him. «Don’t do this.»
He gulped. “What?”
Silence. That dastardly, disgusting, despicable silence! «This.» She nodded, and he knew exactly what she was referring to. In her nod, as clear to him as an accusing finger, she had noted his sizzling mind. «Thinking that you can control me.» Pause. Just ... a pause. «You can’t.»
Silence. Again.
«Fuck.» His mind. «She knows... »
No.
Silent.
Be silent, please.
She knows. She can read it.
She can read your every thought. «She is my every thought.»
It was so ridiculous, though.
«I’m not reading your mind, you know.»
He stopped. Silence again. «She knows that I... »
He began, but stopped.
How could he know? How could he make out what was real or not? It all felt so incredibly real, yet it was all so intensely stupid it couldn’t be anything but absolutely fake. A joke. A farse. A circus, alas, that for some reason he couldn’t escape. “You are my mind.”
She didn’t respond. Just... Sigh
Silence.
It was impressive, though: she knew how to use silence just as expertly as ... the other one. Johanna. «Only difference ... though... »
When Johanna did it, he felt good.
When she did it, he wanted to die.
No stopping now. You shoot your shot. Wink. Bells and whistles. You better hit.
Bullet still in the air. “Fine. Can you tell me what’s up?”
She looked at him. Silenc- “Hey, honey, I need something here.”
She gave her lips a very ... slight ... twist. «Now you want to hear me?» Before he could even think of an answer to th- «I apologize. I am acting like a girl, not a woman.»
“Hmm.”
Still, her eyes ... her eyes of deep, terrifying green! «Your thoughts are safe. I cannot read them.» She reacted indifferently to the puzzled look he gave her. «Suit yourself. If you don’t believe me... » Her tone changed. It went from one of mild hurt to one of quiet understanding. «It’s fine. It’s really fine. I don’t expect you to understand these things ... all at once.»
He made his move: his hand, not to her face, but slowly, slyly towards her hand. “Is it something I did?”
He touched her palm. She didn’t recoil. «More like something you didn’t.» She took a breath. «Give me a second. This suspense makes me look like a bitch, I know, and I... » She didn’t smirk, but for a very quick moment, it looked like she was about to. «I am supposed to be the stronger soul here.»
“Hmm.” He gave her palm a loving squeeze, then dared venture a little further up her wrist, feeling its thickness and firmness already so incredible just a couple of inches in.
The strongest woman in the world. The hardest body on the planet. The sturdiest soul under heaven. All to his touch. All for himself. “You clearly are.”
She finally broke a smile. «I know.» She gave him (and his body) a quirky glance. «You never let me forget it. You ... cutie. You cute little man.»
He chuckled. A little uneasy, a little awkward, bits and pieces intimidated, yes, but ... he chuckled no less. “Now, there’s my girl. I missed ya.”
She acted like she didn’t want to smile or please him. It was so cute! «Woman. No ‘girl.’ Woman.»
“Woman. Sorry.” He fondled that hand so lovingly. “There’s my woman.”
She took a deep breath, then a deeper breath, then raised her hands to her face and... Slap-slap-slap!! Slapped her cheeks with both hands incredibly fast and incredibly hard, making the bed, the room, the house, the building, the city, the planet shake with every blow. “Fuck...” He gulped. Those blows may have felt hard, apocalyptic to him, but to her they were probably quite casual, just a warrior lady trying to wake herself up from a slim instance of morosity.
«Sorry. Sorry for this.» She gave herself a couple more slaps. «I apologize for my crankiness. I guess my thunderous body is not all immune to my ... feminine wiles, huh?»
“It’s okay. I’m glad we’re talking.” His touch. It gained a firmness ... not all too common for him. “And there’s no need to apologize.”
«No?»
He moved to her. His eyes delved into hers with deep sincerity, honesty beyond honesty. “Strong people, uh ... they don’t need to say sorry.”
These words moved her in many different ways. There was pride, fun, vigor in her expression, and then ... sternness. Weight. A type of grimness belonging only to the hurt, bleeding hearts. «What happened last night? What happened to you?» She reached out to him with one hand, caressing his face like a cradle’s touch. «You’ve been out for a day, yet I feel you’ve been away for a lifetime.»
Their hands were all-embracing, their eyes both loving and battling each other, a fierce peaceful fight, two lovers trying to decipher one another, trying to unveil the secrets of each other’s hearts without, however, letting their intentions be known, without stating their desires outright.
It wasn’t deceit. It was a considerate circumvention. A swindler’s care. «They must have been amazing, these friends of yours.» She cared for his face like it was a baby. Her most precious child. «I feel like you’ve grown five years in just a handful of hours.»
He chuckled, trying to dissipate the heat. “I hope not. Otherwise, uh ... I would then be too old.”
Plick! She flicked his nose. «You know what I mean.»
Flicked it or ripped it? “Ouch, ouch, woman!” He rubbed the hurt member, glad to see that it was still there, attached to his face. “Bloody heavens, you...” His eyes beamed with perpetual admiration. “You are strong!”
She gazed upon him with foxy, tricksy eyes. «’Woman?’»
He chuckled. “I’m sorry. I, uh, got too comfortable with you. My bad.” She pinched his cheek. Played with his face a bit. «No need to apologize.» Their eyes, their smiles. Brighter. Wider. «Strong people don’t need to apologize, after all.»
“Hmm.”
«Where did you hear this? Did you come up with it yourself?»
...
...
Something...
...
...
Something was amiss. “Hmm, yeah. Sort of.”
«Doesn’t sound like something you would say.»
He looked at her. That table ... oh. He would sure as hell try to flip it his way. “What do you mean by this?”
Her lips twitched. «I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to call you weak or ... anything like it.»
“Uh-huh.”
Her subdued, hesitant smile wrote in very big, clear letters: she was enjoying the tease. The challenge. The fact that her lover didn’t take things laying down anymore. «Mere hours ago, it felt like you were pouring all your heart, all your pain on my breast. And you were, oh, you were.» She fondled her waist, rubbing her palms on the base of her hefty boobs. «It felt, just like a minute ago, that you were a lone, lost soul looking for help. Yearning for someone to save you.» Eyes up. His eyes down, on her breasts. «Hey.»
“Oh, sorry.” He looked up. “You are irresistibly beautiful, you know.”
«Beautiful or hot?»
“Both. Right now ... hot.” He gulped. “You look more hot than you look beautiful. If that makes any sense.”
«It does. Oh, baby, it does.»
She felt him reaching for her hands, fondling their backs with ... quite the expert touch. «Even your touch feels different. More mature.» Her eyes up, mercilessly on his. «More experienced. It is not a type of touch one learns with men.» Her eyes straight, glimmering with spice. «Usually.»
Think. Think. Thinkthinkthinkthinkthi- “You know Joshua?” He saw her pucker her lips and tilt her head. “He’s ... he knows his way with women.”
«Oh.»
He fondled her and loved her, caressing her hands with tender circular motions. “Yeah. He taught me a thing or two.”
«And are you expecting to use this thing or two?» She fondled him back. Harder. «Your recently acquired knowledge? Hmm?»
His eyes ... Her eyes... “What’s going up, sweetheart?”
She sighed, turned around, and moved away from him to better organize her thoughts. «I feel like I can’t look at you for too long or else... » He couldn’t quite see her smile, but it was there. Oh, it was there. As unmistakable as the fading moon, sizzling with unrestrained hotness for his soul. «Or else ... I will go crazy. Damn a woman’s heart, this gaze of yours does!»
He felt warm. The blood boiled up from his breast. It was ... quite the intoxicating feeling. “Thanks.”
He saw her taking her breaths, putting her thoughts in order, choosing her words carefully. Every gesture, every motion, it was ... something he was quite not used to. «So you’re going out with friends. Learning the ways of a woman’s heart.» Her eyes. A quick, pixy glance. «Learning to pick a woman up, I wouldn’t doubt.»
“Hmm ... hey...”
«Just a second, just a second, oh.» She touched her forehead, shut her eyes. «Oh. Oh!» She seemed to curse herself and damn her feminine weakness. «What a terrible way to fall in love with a man.» She looked at him, pleased to see his face just as flustered and ... honored. «I do love you. You are aware of this, right?»
He gulped. “I-I...”
Wroooom! There was motion. The whole world moving. Wroooom! A continent rising above the land, chains of mountains so vast as to lose the eyes in every direction. Booom! The woman had turned around, then settled on top of him, thunderous legs to each side of his thin ones, her overwhelming breasts almost crushing his skull. «Are you aware, petty male, that I do love you?»
The gods had been merciful that his woman knew what she was doing: her hands were away from his, her legs spread apart, both anchored deep in his bedsheets, raising her body many inches above his. If she had actually laid on top of him, used him as extra filling from that mattress ... Boom! Once upon a lad. Now, just dead. “U-uh...”
She gave his grunts no chance to blossom into words. She moved in ... closer ... and closer ... and then he felt the heavy, hard mass of her breasts on his chest, getting heavier ... heavier ... oh ... heavier...! «Do you love me?»
His mind would have been melting if his body wasn’t so crushed. The presence of that woman, hot as it was, acted like the scent of a predator: it kept his senses sharp and his thoughts biting. “I...”
Her lips. He could taste them! Their fullness, their hardness, their texture, their ... every little thing, he could taste them all. And so he would, it seemed, as they got closer...
... and closer...
... and so! Damn! Closer!
“I...” He shook his head. “Look, it’s, uh ... difficult to ... uh...” He shook it again. Cleared his throat. Looked her dead in the eyes. “It’s quite difficult to focus when ... uh ... you’re here. Like this.”
She stopped her descent, her massive boobs nonetheless drilling a hole in his feeble, frail breast. «Oh?»
He moved a hand to her face. The audacity! Even for such a simple gesture, touching a woman like her, especially for a lad such as himself, it was sacrilege. Heresy! Burn the lad on a stake! “It is. And ... it’s a bit too soon for that.”
She laughed. His soul and his heart would have been soothed by that laughter, weren’t his body so terribly crushed by the titanic, superlative mass of her tits. «Nice answer!» She looked back at him, her eyes temporarily crushing him so much harder than her tits. «A very nice answer. I wonder how much more confidence you gained from this miraculous night.» Her right hand ... up. It moved onto his body, onto his breast ... then down. Down. Down. Into his waist. «How much more spice to tame your lady tonight and conquer her cunt tight.»
She fumbled his loin hard, but avoided his member. “Uurh...” He moved about uncomfortably. She knew it, she was quick to notice it, moving her hand away and showing it to him, almost like a gesture of peace or surrender.
«Right-o-right. Still, my male... » She laid upon him the facts straightly. «You never touched me. You never really treated me like a woman should be treated.»
“That’s not true.” He saw her foxy, haughty look getting foxier and haughtier as he spoke. “I have touched you. I have treated you ... so right.”
«Oh.» She felt, on her powerful forearms, the tip of his fingers touching, worshiping, and climbing her like daredevils on an adventure. Her male was getting confident, and other parts of his body were rising too, just like his fingers. «I see, I see.» She moved in to fondle his head, caress his cheek and his scalp a little, love with love, answering in kind. «You have indeed treated me like a lady. Acted like a true gentleman around me.» She moved in. Her breasts... wrooom! Their pressure on his chest was like a hammer cracking the earth! «You have touched me, but you haven’t ... touched me.»
She left her eyes to tell her story, and he read their lines very knowingly. “Oh.”
She moved away. The bed creaked and rumbled as she rose to sit on his waist. «Does this feel comfortable to you?» She calibrated her weight, adding strength to her legs as she adjusted herself on his loins, her formidable sex crushing his, dawning on him like a kraken upon a boat. «Often, when I know my strength, I do not know your frailty. When I know your frailty, I don’t know my strength. Help me find balance, then.» She acted guilty, her enormous shoulders crushed under a heavier burden. «I do not wish to hurt you like I did just now.»
He looked at her, staggered by her beauty. The moonlight always hit her just right. “Hmm.” He would have been easily mistaken for being too focused, with his eyes so intensely fixed on her face. It wasn’t focus, though. Just sheer admiration. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world.”
She was. She really was. Even the other couldn’t compete with the strong, hard perfection of that chiseled face, that marble-sculpted jaw. «Thanks.» With her muscles, her face, her curves, and her grace, she was beyond the perfect woman: she was, quite simply, Perfection itself. «But focus on the matter at hand, please.»
“Hmm.” He looked down, seeing his sex already so crushed under her superior, pulsating member. «Fuck!» She was so big and so tight and so hard down there that she basically had a penis of her own. Or at least something that would pass a woman’s version of a very big, fat “c-come down, uh, you can, uh...” He cleared his throat again and again and again, obviously aroused by that divine being. “You can lay down, uh, a little further.” She did so, and the rising pressure between their groins caused a deep, hoarse sound to rouse in the warming night. He gulped, feeling the immenseness of herself crushing the very little smallness of his being. “Fucking hell. C-cristo ... senhor!”
She chuckled. «Looks like somebody is really happy to see me.» She stopped. «How does this feel now?»
“Uh-hmm, uh-huh, hmm, h-hmm...” He nodded and shook comically, pathetically, unable to form much in the way of words, then raising an upward thumb to tell her “o-okay. Uh, it’s, uh, okay like t-this.”
She giggled at his clear apprehension. «You cutie. Are you saying this because you already feel too much pressure or just because you’re really, really aroused?»
Words to one side, words to the other, bang-bang-bang, hitting and colliding all around. “Both, actually.”
She laughed. A more open, expansive, masculine laugh this time. «Lover... » The way she spoke ... oh. It was utmost seriousness, he heard it right away. «I wish to make love to you.»
...
...
“Okay.”
Her smile beamed a tentative flash. «’Okay’ as in ... let’s do it?» Her hands moved down ... down ... down to his pecs. Or what could pass as “pecs” in that frail torso of his. «Or ‘okay’ as in ‘I got it?’»
“I ... I got it.” He gathered all the spit in his mouth and swallowed it. Gulp! Made little difference. He was still drowning on his spit, salivating way too much.
«So that’s a no?»
“N-no-ah-I-mean...”
She sighed. One hand went up. Then, from said hand, a finger. «Can I speak?» He bumbled through himself, then nodded, looking both adorable and foolish as he did. «Good.» She rested her hands and lowered her shoulders. If there was any pose that said I am going to be serious now more clearly than that one, he wouldn’t know it. «So.»
He smiled. A bit of saliva still oozed in. “S-so?”
She smiled back. Then, they spent some time smiling at each other, two lovable fools. «Here’s the thing: I was sad ... and... » She was battling against her words. Against herself. «I was awfully frus- ... Well. I am quite frustrated, you know. Not with you, personally ... well, perhaps a bit with you, perhaps a bit on the personal side, yes, but ... oh, please, I don’t want you to take it the wrong way, okay? I know how much you hurt.» Hand down. Palm on his left breast. A gentle touch. A gentler squeeze. «I know how much you bleed ... right here.»
He felt at ease. Even she, it seemed, harbored some of the insecurities of young love. “Huh. I ... told you a lot about it, haven’t I?”
«You have.» Her smile ... it could illuminate the universe. «You have told me everything. More than anyone would tell someone after so short a time.» She glowed. Little green suns on her eyes. «Eight weeks? Nine? How long’s it been since we first met?»
He didn’t know. In a land with no suns, time was awfully hard to tell. “About two months, I guess. It was ... quite late in summer when I got ... when I met you.”
«Hmm.» She muttered kindly.
Eyes on eyes. Hearts on hearts. That smile of hers ... it could illuminate the universe long after it was dead. «Even if the universe dies, her smile will go on.» Long after the last black hole had dissolved into nothing. Her smile, her grin, her warm, beautiful beam, it would go on beyond eternity.
The answer to entropy. The proof of a kind, merciful god. “Glad to have you here with me. Timing, uh ... I think the timing of our meeting...” He shrugged. Not so good with words, after all, even after she had made him as comfortable as he could be. “I think the timing has been just right.”
«Oh?» Deviousness in her gleam. «And why is that so?»
He wandered into her eyes, got lost in her soul. “When I met you, back then, in the summer ... everything was warm and ... sound.” He heard her chuckling, then ... taking his hand. “Oh.”
She brought his hand closer to her heart, though without touching her breast. «When you met me in the summer, to my heartbeat’s sound, we fell in love as the leaves turned brown.»
She saw him tilting his head and his eyebrows moving up with curiosity. “Did you come up ... I mean, uh ... it’s pretty. These verses, they are ... pretty.”
«I know.»
“Did you come up with them yourself?”
«No.» She shook her head. «It’s a little song from my land.»
“From ... your land, huh?” He asked, and she nodded. He felt honored, for some reason. “Do you know, uh, many songs from ... oh, what’s it called? The Parias?”
She chuckled. «My land is a little farther.» She winked. «It’s a secret land. You’re not invited to it, so I can’t tell you about it.»
“Uh-huh.”
«It’s just a cute little verse I thought about, that’s all. Please... » She gave him his hand back. «Keep talking. We met in the summer... »
He smirked. “To my hearbeat’s sound.” They both smiled, and then he was business again. “It was warm. It was ... sound, pleasant. Now...” He gave a tentative glance through his window. “Winter’s not long to come by. It’s rough.” He touched the back of her hands in a caring, special way. “I’m glad I’ll have your warmth with me to carry me through it.”
«Ah.» She moved, very enigmatic. Like a ballerina of power. «I see.» Her grace made her scarier: something so big and heavy, after all, should not be able to move so quickly, nor so seamlessly. «Do you really desire my warmth?»
He looked puzzled. “I do. Of course I do.”
«Hmm.» Smooth. Seamless. Enigmatic. «I wonder ... if we’re heading into a sort of winter ourselves.»
He moved up. “Baby ... amor...” Credit where it was due, his heart, his instincts, they all felt superbly attuned to her words and her feelings. Just like a good lover’s should. “O que foi? What, uh ... what’s going on?”
She smirked. «Oh, this woman, eh? Walking in circles, taking detours, playing with your emotions, doing everything but being straight.» She placed one hand on his chest. «Rest back, rest easy. I’m not angry at you.»
He did so, he relaxed, though not without the slightest, faintest reluctance. “You did say you were angry with me.”
«Not ‘angry,’ no.»
“Well, at least disappointed. If not with me ... personally, then with something I did.” He remembered her words, spelled them out carefully, showing her how seriously he took them. “Or ... something I didn’t.”
He looked at her. She looked at him. Eyes, eyes...
“Oh.” It finally hit him. “It’s about...”
...
...
Giggles. «Say it.»
...
...
...
...
“It’s about sex, isn’t it?”
She made little guns with her fingers, then “shot” at his breast. «Dingdy-din-ding! We’ve got a winner!»
He chuckled. “You’re mad at me because...”
«I’m not mad at you.»
“Okay, yeah. Uh, you’re ... disappointed with me because...”
«Much better.»
Chuckles, chuckles ... eyes. “I haven’t ... we haven’t had sex yet. Is that it?”
She winked. «You did come a long way since this hangout, huh?» She moved a hand over his breast. A finger. A single finger on his meat, drawing circles with the nail. «Are you sure there wasn’t any woman involved?»
...
...
«I don’t know. This type of ... how do I put it? Aura. This type of aura around you ... this halo of confidence and ... cockiness, even... » She flashed him a grin. «This type of confidence and self-assurance only really comes from a man who’s had his ways with women. Who has, uh, ridden a few rounds with them. No sex involved, even. Not necessarily, I mean. Just... » She shrugged. Her powerful shoulders always thundered when she did. Boom! «Fooling around. Getting to know them.»
...
...
...
«Hey, love?»
“Oh, sorry.” His eyes. His eyes on hers. On. Hers. “Did you think ... what?” A smirk. “That I was fooling around, is that it?”
Again, her shoulders. Boom! «I know it’s silly, but ... I know what I know.» Boom! «From the long time you spent away to ... the way ... you behave right now ... you know... » Smile, smile... boom! «It kind of screams like ... having an affair.»
He took her hands. Slowly, then, he guided her eyes with them to his heart. “Honey: calm. Down.” He kissed her. Mwah! The back of her hands felt so soft, yet so sturdy! “It was just a night out with the boys. Nothing to worry about.”