Hidden Devotion

I unexpectedly ran into my ex-girlfriend, and old feelings flared up again. She had divorced her husband for me, but she had hidden a shocking secret. Her child was mine. But soon, I realized things were not so simple. As I left the office, I was chatting with a boss named Rodger Navarro about some machine issues today. I owned these factories and had come to check on the equipment. Suddenly, we turned a corner and encountered a woman. From a distance, I thought she looked familiar. She was being scolded by a manager, nodding submissively. She looked pitiful and timid. “I’m sorry, manager, I’ll clean up right away.” “You’re too slow; even a monkey could do better than you.” I recognized her as my ex-girlfriend, Sally Garcia. The manager’s tirade had left her dazed, and she turned just in time to bump into my arms. More accurately, I had caught her. Sally looked up slightly, her eyes glistening with tears as if she had suffered a great injustice. She was a country girl with a stunning figure. Her beauty was delicate and striking. Even in her cleaning uniform, her perfect shape was accentuated. “I’m so sorry…” Sally instinctively bowed her head in apology, as polite and humble as she had been with the manager. The thought that she might have forgotten me unsettled me; after all, we shared so many beautiful memories. The manager nearby started to get riled up again. Seeing his angry demeanor annoyed me. “She did nothing wrong; don’t take it out on her,” I warned softly. “Keep this up, and you won’t be working here anymore.” He jumped at my words, hurriedly backing off, afraid to say more. I hadn’t forgotten his earlier attitude towards Sally and silently noted his badge number, planning to transfer him later. Turning to Sally, I asked quietly, “You’re not scared, are you?” Sally shook her head, looking at me timidly. “You don’t remember me? I’m Barnard Moore,” I couldn’t help but introduce myself. Finally, recognition dawned on Sally. “Barnard, is it really you?” Seeing Rodger’s curious expression beside us, I refrained from saying more and simply took her hand to leave. Sally and I had met in the countryside. When I first knew her, I was just an appliance repairman. I often saw her washing clothes by the river. Among the village women, she was the most beautiful and often faced teasing and harassment. Once, after finishing a repair, I spotted her being blocked by someone and rushed over. From a distance, I recognized the man as Denny Boyd from the neighboring village. He was leering at her, looking like he intended to make a move. I yelled out, “Mr. Benton!” Coyle Benton was a respected elder in the village; even the local toughs held him in awe. Upon hearing someone approach, Denny spat and scowled, leaving in a huff. When I reached Sally, I found her on the ground, looking utterly helpless. Her clothes had loosened, revealing her full chest, contrasting sharply with her slender waist, causing my heart to race. I bent down and caught a whiff of her faint, sweet fragrance. Sally lunged into my arms. Holding her, I felt an instant reaction. From that day on, I often stayed close to protect her. She would smile at me, trusting me completely. I shattered the stereotypes others had of her, realizing she was not only enchanting but also a gentle and innocent girl. We quickly fell in love. Later, due to family reasons, I left my hometown and the woman I loved. I eventually heard she had gotten married, and I started my own family. Now, she should be in her thirties, yet she looked just like a girl. Her figure was even more alluring than in her youth, radiating the charm of a mature woman. I pulled her into my office, lowering the blinds to shield us from prying eyes. Sally looked down, a flush creeping onto her cheeks, though I couldn’t tell if it was from shyness or something else. “How have you been all these years?” Having dated her, I naturally cared about her well-being. I had always felt guilty for leaving her. “Barnard, are you really concerned about me?” Sally looked up, her eyes misty with tears. I thought, could it be that she hadn’t been happy all this time? A flicker of hope crossed my mind.

I reached out to wipe the tears from the corner of her eye. “Of course I care about you.” A sudden knock at the door interrupted our conversation. Sally jumped back, pushing me away. I let go of her hand, her soft, smooth skin sparking romantic thoughts that reminded me of how she once made me feel. That night, I tossed and turned in bed, my heart ablaze. In my youth, I was quite the charmer, adept at winning over girls. During that time, Sally and I had shared a whirlwind of wild and sweet moments. When we sneaked off to the fields, she hesitated at first but eventually went along with my plans. Her hand would rest gently on my neck, and though she looked slightly upset, she still let me take the lead. I could vividly recall her enchanting figure in the cornfield and her tender, youthful body. It was my first sexual experience, and just thinking about it kept me awake. Eventually, I fell asleep but dreamt of her. In my dream, Sally leaped into my arms, full of affection. We laughed and played, and I was lost in her warmth. Then, I dreamt of her being chased by a crowd. Cornered and desperate, she came to my door, begging for help. In the dream, her eyes were frantic, like a trapped rabbit. I shut the door and turned to pin her beneath me. She was too nervous to speak but didn’t resist. Her soft arms draped over my shoulders, and she whispered, “Barnard.” Even after waking, the dream lingered in my mind. It had been a long time since I felt this way. I got up and made a call to transfer Sally to a position closer to my office. I arranged for her to have a lighter workload so she could be nearer to me. The next day, I watched my plans unfold with satisfaction, yet Sally still appeared timid in front of me. Whenever I glanced up, I caught sight of her graceful figure. It seemed she sensed my feelings, keeping her head down in shyness. Her ears flushed red as she busily wiped the desk. I chuckled softly, thinking, “She’s still so easily flustered, just like a girl.” As she passed by, I tugged at her hand, and she gasped, falling into my embrace. Her body was still that delicate and soft, stirring my heart. Sally was always neat. Her clothes were immaculately clean, carrying a light scent of lavender. Even her neck turned pink, resembling rose petals. She tried to push me away but couldn’t budge. Her slender, pale neck swayed before me. “Barnard, don’t do this. It’s not right.” “What’s not right?” I spoke brazenly, though I kept my actions in check. I couldn’t help but reminisce about my youthful audacity. In her younger days, Sally never rejected me, and I wouldn’t let her say the things I didn’t want to hear. I loved to make her blush, her clothes half undone, leaving her speechless. Now, her curvaceous body swayed in front of me, igniting my desire. Her rounded hips brushed against my thigh, but I still hesitated to make a move. Gently, I caressed her thigh and asked, “How about dinner with me tonight?” “I need to go home and cook for Alick tonight.” I didn’t ask who Alick was; after all, I already knew her story. After her marriage, she had a child named Alexander Guzman, who was very well-behaved. “Have you forgotten our past?” I placed her hand against my face. “I haven’t forgotten you, Sally. It’s rare for us to…” “The past is the past,” Sally’s voice dropped, seemingly recalling unpleasant memories.

“Alright, alright, I was just joking. But I’d like to ask if you could have dinner with me.” I quickly released her, not daring to provoke her any further. After all, I was the one who had wronged her first by leaving her behind in the countryside. She agreed to my request. During dinner, she remained quiet, her demeanor restrained and polite, as if afraid I might make another move. I was interested in her, but I didn’t want to overstep her boundaries. I had a plan in mind, so I took her to a high-end restaurant. As expected, Sally sat there looking helpless, fiddling with her napkin, unsure of what to do. I wrapped my arm around her and took her hand, guiding her on how to handle the napkin. As I explained, I leaned my head gently against hers, savoring her warmth. At that moment, she seemed to forget the distance between us, her eyes filled with admiration as they had been in our youth. Even my ex-wife had never given me such a feeling. Sally appeared to recall her past feelings for me. We locked eyes, slowly drowning in affection. The space between us faded away. I caressed her soft shoulder, my other hand moving to hold her securely. I leaned down to kiss her, giving her no chance to escape. Good times always seemed fleeting. Before we could finish the meal, she received a phone call and rushed to leave. “Can you come out with me tomorrow since it’s the weekend?” I pulled her hand insistently, ignoring the angry shouts on the other end of the line. I already knew she had a child and a husband, yet jealousy gnawed at me. She looked down, caught in a rare conflict. Seeing her like this, I understood that she still held feelings for me. Watching her leave made me feel disappointed. Before she left, I gifted her several items. She hesitated to return them, but I noticed the surprise and shyness in her eyes when she received the gifts. I thought to myself, “Take it slow. As a hunter, you must have patience.” To my surprise, the next day at the office, I didn’t see her. The manager told me she had taken a leave of absence. I felt confused. As soon as I turned away, I overheard them gossiping. “Sally has it tough. Her husband is incompetent and has a bad temper. What a shame.” Those words unsettled me, and I thought, “Is she in trouble?” I tracked down Sally’s address from the manager and drove over. After a long journey, I arrived at an old, secluded house. People passed by quickly, making me feel inexplicably anxious. Today, I had dressed down. I didn’t drive my car in, calmly walking into the building. Eventually, I found her home. Sally stood at the door, dressed simply yet exuding a certain elegance. She was adjusting a boy’s clothes and smiling as he left. When she turned to see me, she froze. “Barnard, what are you doing here?” Once she said that she seemed a bit flustered, quickly lowering her gaze. Her hands trembled, fidgeting nervously in front of her. I didn’t care if anyone saw; I quickly walked over, my gaze intense as I looked at her. “Why didn’t you go to work? Is it because you didn’t want to see me?” No matter how many women a man has, there’s always something different about his first love. Besides, I was now older, and suddenly, there she was before me. She was still as beautiful as ever, her movements still reminiscent of a young girl. Now, she carried a mature allure. I admitted to myself that I couldn’t let her go. I never wanted her to be far from me again. My feelings for her were strong. Even if I was a bit upset, seeing her in this shy state made me soften my voice, afraid of scaring her. “Barnard, I… I didn’t…” Sally stepped back slightly, her fingers anxiously tugging at her apron. Suddenly, someone appeared behind her. “Sally, who’s this?” The man was scruffy, yawning as he looked at me with a hint of malice. Sally tensed even more. I spoke up. “I’m Sally’s boss from the factory. I wanted to ask why she wasn’t at work.” I wasn’t particularly polite. I knew that for someone like him, status carried weight. Sure enough, he instantly shifted to a more courteous demeanor, speaking in a flattering tone. “You’re the owner of that factory nearby? Nice to meet you. The big boss has a different presence, doesn’t he?”

He chattered incessantly. I merely responded with half-hearted replies, barely looking at him. After all, if it weren’t for Sally, he wouldn’t even be worthy of speaking to me. I glanced at Sally, who was pouring water nearby. She was dressed simply today, but that only accentuated her curves, radiating the allure of a mature woman. Her skin was delicate, and her figure was stunning, swaying with her every movement. It seemed that her dress was slightly snug in the front. I realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. The thought quickened my heartbeat, and images of Sally beneath me from last night’s dream flooded my mind. Sally’s soft waist sank onto the couch as she sat next to me. Her anxious eyes darted around as if afraid someone would discover what we had done. We had indeed crossed a line. I reached under the table and grasped her hand. Sally froze, looking at me with a pleading expression. I placed her hand on my knee. Her hands felt rough, marked by calluses, no longer as soft as they had been in our youth. A pang of tenderness and guilt washed over me. When it was time for dinner, her husband, Jackson Guzman, warmly invited me to stay, so I did. As we ate, Jackson brought out some wine. I was a seasoned drinker, and before long, I had him drunk, his head resting on the table as he mumbled incoherently. “I missed you after just one day. Didn’t you miss me?” I confidently pulled Sally onto my lap. Her long dress revealed her pale, shapely legs and her ample bosom stretched the fabric to its limits. It was an irresistible sight. Embracing her with her husband just a few feet away sent a thrill through me. I couldn’t help but get closer, feeling her softness and the faint scent of her skin. Sally finally pushed me away. She was breathless, tears glistening in her eyes as she glanced nervously at Jackson, who lay passed out. “Please don’t do this.” Seeing her like that stirred something within me. I took a few swigs from the wine bottle, losing the restraint I had earlier. Sally gently grasped my hand, her voice laced with concern. “You shouldn’t drink so much; it’s not good for you.” “Do you still care about me? Why are you lying to me?” She shyly lowered her head, falling silent. She leaned against me, her tender breasts brushed against my body. I could no longer hold back. I swept her into the bedroom and pressed her against the door. Having had a bit to drink, my face felt flushed, yet I asked her, “Will you be with me?” Her hands explored my face, tenderly caressing my forehead and lips. Then, she leaned up to kiss me. On the bed, she was as captivating as ever. Her expression held a mix of shyness and allure, reminding me of the beauty of first love. Now, she possessed a mature charm that left me craving more. Outside, Jackson lay in a drunken stupor, while inside, we burned with passion. We lost ourselves in each other multiple times. If I weren’t afraid of being caught, I would have held her even longer. As I prepared to leave, I felt reluctant. The flush on Sally’s face had yet to fade, and beads of sweat glistened on her neck, making her skin appear even more radiant. Her pink dress was wrinkled from my hands, emphasizing her full breasts, and it was damp in places. Sally gazed at me softly, her eyes filled with tenderness. I couldn’t resist taking a deep breath as we shared a reluctant kiss before I hurriedly left her home. For several days, I continued to pull her into my playful escapades. We intertwined in my office or at motels. Occasionally, I couldn’t help but pick her up. We reminisced about our youthful secret encounters in the woods, where we had reveled in nature’s fragrant embrace. Now, our escapades were even more reckless. Recently, though, Sally seemed to withdraw, hesitant to get too close. I suspected it was because of her fear of being discovered by her husband. Though I understood her concerns, the feeling frustrated me. One day, she surprisingly suggested I come to her house.

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