Chapter 4

You are — you. The Reader. And much more, of course. A participant who affects the story. In fact, the one without whom the story wouldn’t exist at all. So, let’s look at everything from the outside now — after we’ve watched what’s happening through the eyes of each of the four participants.

By the way — who do you think is the protagonist?

Yuri, jerking off by the doorframe? Look how intently he stares into the mirror where Annette is reflected, “helping” the immigrant janitor. Or maybe she is the main character? Her beauty and radiance now serve a single purpose: the sexual satisfaction of a filthy old man.

Or perhaps he is the protagonist! With his heavy naked body, he sprawls on the bed like a model and keeps pushing further into his forbidden tricks with a married woman. The darkness he’s been hoarding all his life helps him. Or maybe it is the center of the story? Without it Omar is just a pathetic old man.

But You and I have drifted from the narrative...

Annette — afraid of herself, of that uncontrollable, as she called it, “tension” — took the old man’s cock in her hand. She would have grabbed anything, really, if only this “help” would end sooner! Oh, You have no idea how much this woman needs control — and how terrified she is of losing it.

To gain control over life and over herself, she took up yoga and meditation, found herself a non-confrontational husband who indulges her, turned the home into a fortress where she is the mistress. And now, on this witching night, standing naked before a masturbating old man, she was losing control for the first time in many years.

At the very least — over herself.

That frightened Annette. The unknown frightened her. And what might happen to her in Omar’s presence while her husband slept.

So, she took an extreme step: wrapped her small hand around the immigrant’s enormous cock. Oh, it was fleeing from the wolf straight into its mouth! Touching the hot, tense organ, Annette couldn’t hold back a soft moan.

“-- Um!”

A powerful wave ran through her body, and the world flared into new colors — as if someone had injected a drug into her blood. If before Annette was losing control but still resisting, now resistance turned meaningless. The only thing left was to speed things up and try to force Omar’s orgasm before she herself lost her head.

Which is what Annette did.

She began lifting and lowering her hand quickly, masturbating the heavy cock. Feeling it in her hand was catastrophic. A real catastrophe for the self-control of this impressionable beauty. She felt every inch of the old man’s tense flesh — his swollen veins, the wet head ... and every time her hand rose, she gathered pre-cum from the tip with her fingers. So the old man’s moisture stayed on her, sank into her skin, glinting under the lamp alongside her wedding ring.

“-- Now you’ll come,” Annette said with certainty.

The old man, watching her breasts bounce with the motion of her arm, was inclined to agree — yet still tried to postpone his orgasm as long as he could. Yuri, meanwhile, was in a starkly opposite state. He seethed that his wife had allowed herself to take another man’s cock in her hand — and at the same time he was aroused, as if it were his cock Annette held, and not merely held ... but held for the first time.

Yuri had already lost control of himself and became the second to fall to the darkness that night, after Omar. Annette was still holding on ... but the old man’s cock was already in her hand. A victory that looked too much like defeat.

“-- Ooh — ooh — yes, sweet girl, yes! You’re so — mmmmm --”