The phone vibrated against my thigh like an angry insect.
The name “My love ❤️” flashed on the screen, lighting up the dimness of the small house. Ennemiah, her lips still pressed against my neck, felt my body stiffen. She pulled back slightly, one eyebrow raised, curious but not surprised.
“Who is it?” she asked in a soft, almost playful voice.
I stared at the screen, my heart pounding in my chest. My wife. Always at this time on Sundays. If I didn’t answer now, she would really start worrying. I hesitated for a second, then picked up.
“Hello?” I said, trying to keep my voice calm and natural.
“My love! Finally! I tried calling you earlier but it wouldn’t go through… Is everything okay?”
Ennemiah watched me, a mischievous smile slowly spreading across her lips. She said nothing. She simply knelt in front of me, silently, her eyes locked on mine.
“Yes, yes, everything’s fine, darling,” I replied, my throat a little tight. “I was… out walking around the city. The network can be tricky sometimes.”
Ennemiah slid her hands along my thighs, gently parting them. I felt my muscles tense. She undid my belt with deliberate slowness, the metallic click barely audible. My wife kept talking—about the rain in Paris, the meal she had cooked, our son who had called.
“And you, are you eating properly at least? You look tired in the photos you sent me…”
I closed my eyes for a second. Ennemiah had just pulled down my trousers and boxers in one smooth motion. The cool air of the room brushed my skin, then the warmth of her hand enveloped me, soft and confident. I was already hard—shamefully hard—since our kisses in the living room.
“Yes… I’m eating well, don’t worry,” I managed to say, my voice rougher than I would have liked.
Ennemiah’s smile widened. She leaned forward, her braided hair cascading over my thighs, and slowly ran her tongue along my entire length, from base to tip, as if savouring a treat. A violent shiver ran through me. I gripped the phone tighter.
My wife laughed softly at the other end of the line.
“You sound strange… Are you sure everything’s okay?”
Ennemiah took me into her mouth—warm, wet, enveloping. She began to move slowly, her tongue swirling around the head with each upward motion, her lips tight enough to drive me insane. One of her hands caressed my balls with expert gentleness, the other rested on my thigh, her nails digging in slightly whenever she felt me tremble.
“Yes… really, everything’s fine,” I answered, trying to control my breathing. “It’s just… a bit hot here. The humidity, you know.”
Ennemiah picked up the pace, taking me deeper until I felt the back of her throat. She made small, wet, muffled sounds—almost inaudible, yet they echoed in the silent room like stabs at my conscience.
Her eyes never left mine; she looked at me with provocative intensity, as if she enjoyed my pleasure as much as my struggle to stay coherent.
My wife was still talking—about the house, the garden, plans for when I came back. Her voice was tender, trusting, full of love. And I answered in fragments: “yes”, “uh-huh”, “of course, darling”, while a nineteen-year-old woman sucked me with delicious dedication in an unfamiliar house in the heart of Antananarivo.
The pleasure rose, unstoppable. I placed my free hand on Ennemiah’s head—not to guide her, but to hold on to something. She understood, sped up again, her mouth sliding faster, deeper, her tongue dancing relentlessly.
“I love you, you know,” my wife said suddenly. “I miss you terribly.”
I closed my eyes. The pleasure reached its peak. I felt the orgasm coming—violent, inevitable. I bit my lip until it bled to stifle a moan.
“Me too… I love you,” I whispered, my voice broken, at the exact moment I came in Ennemiah’s mouth.
She swallowed everything without hesitation, continuing her gentle movements until I was completely spent, trembling. Then she straightened up, wiped her lips with her fingertips, and smiled at me as if nothing extraordinary had happened.
At the other end of the line, my wife sighed tenderly.
“Rest well, my heart. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Yes… see you tomorrow,” I replied, my voice flat.
I hung up.
Ennemiah curled up against me, her head on my shoulder, as if she were the most innocent person in the world.
I said nothing.
I had nothing left to say.
The next morning, the email from HR was still sitting in my inbox.
Three-month extension.
Salary increase.
More comfortable accommodation.
I still hadn’t replied.
But deep down, I already knew what I was going to do.