The Duplan Residence — Evening
The soft hum of the air conditioner filled the silence as Ama and Eric stepped into the living room. The tension was thick, their footsteps reverberating against marble floors.
Ama: (arms folded)
“You disappeared, Eric. No calls, no texts. Three years have just gone by. Why?”
Eric: (sighs, drops his keys on the table)
“I didn’t ghost you, Ama. I was drowning. My father’s company collapsed, my mother got sick, and I couldn’t bear you seeing me fail. So I cut you off before you could watch me fall.”
Ama: (bitter laugh)
“You didn’t save me pain, you gave it. Every unanswered message felt like a punch.”
Eric: (steps closer)
“I thought I was doing the right thing… until I saw you again on that court. The same fire, the same grace. God, Ama, I never stopped thinking about you.”
He opens a folder from his backpack, documents stamped with a sleek logo: Evolve Sports Group.
Eric:
“I built this from nothing. We’re now sponsoring the Zenith Cup, including some of your former club teammates. I want to give back… and maybe fix what I broke.”
Ama studies him, torn between anger and the ache of old affection. His eyes search hers for a spark.
Ama:
“Is that why you came back, or is this business?”
Eric: (softly)
“Both. You’re the only unfinished story I can’t seem to walk away from.”
The silence stretches. Her heartbeat fills the gap. She looks away, whispering—
“Maybe some stories should stay unfinished.”
Eric:
“Funny how time changes everything… except how I feel when I’m near you.”
Ama: (softly)
“You had your chance, Eric.”
Eric:
“I know. But I never stopped replaying the way you used to look at me like I could do anything.”
He steps closer. The air between them thickens with unspoken history. Ama’s breath trembles; she doesn’t move away.
Ama:
“You left me with silence.”
Eric:
“And I’ve been trying to fill it ever since.”
He reaches out, brushing a strand of her hair from her face. Ama closes her eyes for a heartbeat too long.
Eric fondles her soft, shapely booty.
Ama: (barely a whisper)
“This isn’t wise.”
Eric:
“Maybe not. But it’s honest.”
His hand goes under her skirt and finds her panties. She doesn’t pull away. The next moment, her lips meet his, slow, trembling as his fingers stroked her slowly and intensely.
The waves of pleasure sent them straight onto the Pearl Carpet of Baroda on the floor. Eric, like a skilled workman, exposed her boobs and grabbed her nipple between his lips. Ama was under siege. Her body yielded. Eric unzipped his pants, took out his dick, and directed it between her thighs and slid it inside of her.
Ama gasped and moaned. Their bodies reuniting after years of unfinished emotion.
⸻
Azure Club — Private VIP Suite
Dim lights. Yvonne, draped in her brown evening see-through gown, leads Kwesi into the suite overlooking the city.
Yvonne: (smiling)
“Impressive view, isn’t it? You don’t seem surprised.”
Kwesi: (half-smile)
“I’ve seen skies from rooftops in Nima. They’re the same stars, just viewed through different ceilings.”
Yvonne tilts her head, intrigued.
Yvonne:
“So, where exactly do you come from, Kwesi Biney? You speak like someone who’s lived many lives for your young age.”
Kwesi:
“Nima. My mother sold waakye by the roadside. I grew up running errands for her and sneaking into the community court to watch the older boys play tennis. That’s how I learned, by watching, copying, and refusing to give up.”
Yvonne studies him with a blend of curiosity and desire.
Yvonne:
“You don’t fit the usual crowd here. But I like that. Tell me… what do you really want from all this?”
Kwesi: (leans forward)
“To prove that where I started doesn’t define where I’m going.”
Their eyes locked, a charge of raw attraction and mutual intrigue. For a moment, Yvonne’s polished world blurs around him.
Yvonne:
“You’re bold, Mr. Biney.”
Kwesi: (smirking)
“Respectfully dangerously, Madam.”
Her lips curve. The night feels electric.
Yvonne pours herself some champagne and fills an empty glass for Kwesi too. They clinked their glasses.
“To ecstasy,” said Yvonne.
Kwesi nodded while he ogled her.
Yvonne went into her bag, took out a wad of cash, and threw it at Kwesi.
“Come to mommy,” she said.
… to be continued.
Link to next episode:
https://www.crowdpen.co/@Carphuyloro/stories/Fiction/love-and-tennis-episode-8
Previous episode:
https://www.crowdpen.co/@Carphuyloro/stories/Fiction/love-and-tennis-episode-