Darija

+++

The story is based on true events.

Slow burner—real-life seductions are sometimes slow.

+++

Yes. Blame it on me. It's OK. Did I start it? Not sure. So how did it start?

I believe it was somewhere in December, perhaps November, last year, as the two came to introduce themselves. I live alone in the penthouse of our building because the best thing in life is not to have anybody above you making that annoying noise when walking. So, I always rented a penthouse, no matter where I lived in Europe. I work mostly at home in my home office, so I am always there. It is great for online shopping because my parcels are always delivered.

So my doorbell rang, and first I didn’t know what it was, because you can only ring my doorbell if you are already in the building, so I didn’t recognize the doorbell right away. As I opened, wondering who that might be, I saw a young couple standing in front of me. He right away started speaking, saying both his and her name, introducing themselves as the new neighbors from the ground floor. I forgot his name right away. It didn’t even register. But her name was burned into my soul.

Darija.

I tried to pretend to listen to him as he was saying things, trying to keep my eyes on him, but I switched back and forth between the two of them.

“Why don’t you come in?” I asked, wanting to have her as long as possible in my place. “I can make some coffee.”

They smiled, happy about the kind new neighbor they just met.

“Have a seat,” I said, pointing towards the couches in the living room. "Ignore the mess; it's always like that.” Adding a smile.

They liked the joke and sat down.

“Latte macchiato? Coffee? Perhaps tea or a beverage?” I offered.

She asked for tea and he for coffee. I decided to make myself another latte. The two coffees were in the making, and I grabbed my tea box and walked up to her, opening the lid.

“What kind of tea would you like, Darija?”

She was pleasantly surprised that a single guy would have such a wide variety of teas. It took her some time to choose; some teas she didn’t even know. This gave me a chance to look at her. She was roughly 1.68 to 1.7 m (5.5 Ft) tall, with pretty eyes, perhaps a mix between blue and green. Black hair, her breasts slightly bigger than her hips, I guess a 36-25-35 kind of nice, slender body. If I were to tell a good friend, I would tell him “One juicy babe."

Once she chose the tea, I brought in the coffees and her hot water. He was mainly talking; she was polite and listening. He was in the army, and she was a cop. I asked if they were able to combine their schedules, and they both kept silent for a second, a bit too long, if you ask me.

“Yeah, it is OK.” He said, looking at her. She didn’t say anything.

I decided to change the topic, and yes, this was the first time for both of them living together. They were both 22 years old, and they had met years ago as teenage sweethearts. I gave them my cell number, just in case, for watering plants or whatever. and they gave me theirs. We chatted some more, but after half an hour they had to go; they still had a lot of unpacking to do.

“Of course," I answered. “Whenever you want a break, just come by; I am normally working at home.

They thanked me and left. I was impressed by her. Sexually impressed. Anyway, I continued doing what I was doing, and I did not think about her anymore.

…

It must have been four or five weeks later, as I was home and I heard a soft knocking on my door. The weather in January was horrible, nothing but cold rain and wind, so I hadn’t been out much, except for groceries. This was the time of the year where you buy a lot of “bad” stuff in the supermarket, from chips all the way to ****. In the winter I spend quite some money on heating because I like to walk around in shorts and a t-shirt, and that's how I opened the door. It was Darija.

“Hi, neighbor!" She said in a friendly way. “Thought I'd come by to steal some tea from you!”

“Sure, come in, I will make you some," I replied, stepping aside, letting her in.

As she walked past me, I could drop a glance at her; she was dressed for the cold weather, wearing a warm pullover with a hoodie, jeans, and, I believe, what you call Uggs.

“Have a seat and make yourself comfortable.” I said, as I closed the door behind her, her boyfriend nowhere to be seen.

I switched on the water cooker and grabbed the box of teas.

Are you going to try a different one this time, or are you more the kind of girl who goes “safe?”

“I will try something new, thanks!”

As she was deciding what to choose, I was standing right in front of her, my crotch at the same level as her face. The moment she had chosen a tea and looked up to me, saying, “This one," for a second it felt as if she had looked at my crotch. But I might have been wrong.

We chatted some more as I was preparing my own coffee. She was telling me about their jobs and that her boyfriend was gone for six weeks to Somalia to support the Peace Corps.

I brought in the hot water and coffee, and as I looked at her, I realized she was dressed too warm for my place; she looked a bit flushed.

“Feel free to take off your shoes or pullover," I said. "I know it is warm here.”

“Oh, thanks!”

But she hesitated. “Can I really take off my shoes?” she asked.

“Sure. Why not?”

“But I wear no socks.”

“That’s OK, your naked feet won't bite.” I smiled.

She gladly took off her warm shoes and showed me some pretty small, well-manicured feet. I would even lick them, I thought, and I am not even a feet lover.

“Can I take my pullover off too?”

“Yes, you can. You are dressed for outside, and not for my place, you know.”

She gladly lifted it over her head, for a second showing me her beautiful flat stomach as her top was lifted a little bit as well.

“Much better.” She happily said. She wore a dark-colored top, which made her eyes even prettier.

Time to get more personal. “What kind of yes color do you have?” I asked.

“You like?”

“Yeah, they are very pretty.”

“Green-blue, but a bit bluer.”

“Very nice. Looks great with your black hair, Darija.”

She smiled at me, flattered. “Thank you!” she almost shyly answered.

“So, what do you do when your boyfriend is not around?”

“I get by.” She said, looking down at the wooden floor.

“Must feel lonely sometimes, right?” I softly asked.

“Sometimes.”

“You can come up for tea anytime you want, day and night.”

“Thank you. That’s so nice of you!” Darija replied with a kind smile.

“Sure! You can even come up for a cocktail; I make killer caipirinhas.”

“I will keep you on it!” she laughed.

We talked some more, for at least another hour, a bond between us slowly growing. She told me a lot of things about herself; she was originally from the Czech Republic but has lived in Germany for the past 10 years. Whenever her boyfriend was away, she went to the gym every day, getting rid of that "stress." As she called it.

“You mean hormones?” I joked, smiling at her.

“You got me!” she replied, laughing.

I teased her some more, saying that "the best way to get rid of that is to clean my apartment.”

She laughed at my little joke, answering, “We will see…”

…

Over the coming weeks, she kept showing up on an irregular basis for tea. Of course I had already bought new kinds of teas, surprising her whenever she visited me. “Still two weeks without a boyfriend," she confided to me, a bit edgy.

“One day you will accept a cocktail of mine.” I replied, “It always helps to get the stress level down.”

“Not this kind of stress.” She softly said.

“I will not offer you a cookie; you won't stop eating, and I want you like this, not fat.” I teased her.

She grinned at the half-true, half-funny joke.

“Gotta go.” She suddenly said and stood up.

“Sure. See you tomorrow!” I teased.

“Maybe, yes," Darija replied.

…

She didn’t show up for the next couple of weeks, and then one evening, as I was about to grab a bag of chips, I heard that familiar soft knocking on my door.

“Hi, come on in, Darija.”

She smiled but spoke determinedly, “I need that drink now.”

“Sure. I have everything; what would you like?”

“Caipirinha is fine, thanks.”

Once we had our cocktails, we sat outside on the roof terrace. Spring was already there, and it was the first mild day.

“Very nice.” She said, appreciating the terrace. “It has enough privacy to suntan, but the view is great.”

“I wouldn’t mind you suntanning here.” I grinned at her. “Remember to wear a small bikini.”

“You wish, you dirty old man.”

We both laughed; we had a good bond, but I wanted to add another notch.

“I would even put suncream on you myself.”

She grinned, not commenting on it.

“Alone again at home?”

“Yeah. One more week.”

"Shit," I simply replied.

We had our drinks and talked about all kinds of things until it got too cold to stay on the terrace. She told me she was leaving but thanked me for the great time she had.

“Every time I leave here, I am in good spirits, thanks to you.” Darija thanked me.

“Anytime!” I smiled, “And remember the cleaning part of my place…” giving her a wink.

She laughed and left.

…

I didn’t hear from her for a couple of months, until the heat wave hit us all. I didn’t really think about it too much, her not showing up. I had other things going on and was also playing lots of street basketball whenever I had a free minute. It helped me lose my winter fat, and besides getting a nice all-over tan, my muscles became more pronounced. Until one day, the heat was simply too much, and I decided to stay at home. I tried to ventilate my place, but it was still very hot, my sweat drops dripping on the floor. I got rid of my t-shirt and grabbed another Coke, walking around in only my worn and torn shorts. To ventilate a bit more, I opened all windows and the door, a nice draft cooling down the living room.

And I kept sweating like crazy. I placed a wedge between the door and left a small crack open to have more privacy. I went into the bathroom and got rid of my shorts. I thought about having another shower, but I didn’t want to waste so much water by showering three times a day, so I decided against it. I walked back towards the kitchen as a soft "oh" reached my ears. I turned around to look.

Darija was standing there in the door opening, looking at my naked body, her mouth forming another quiet "oh."

She stood there hypnotized.

I walked towards her and opened the door. “Come.” I simply ordered her and took her by the hand, leading her inside.

To be continued.