In Love with my sister's Friend

Lust From The Past

I sat there, dazed. My head throbbed from the punch, and all I could hear was my heartbeat pulsing in my ears like war drums. The man had stormed off with Ijeoma right behind him, her voice fading into the distance.

And Constance… she was still standing there. Motionless. Like a statue carved from disbelief and something else; something deeper. Her face was unreadable, but her eyes? Her eyes were the loudest thing in that quiet street.

She’d seen it. The picture on my phone screen. I knew she had.

And we just tried to talk about it. I just tried to be my best. I just tried to explain it.

She came to my side, knelt slowly, and touched my shoulder with the gentleness of someone trying not to crack glass.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice low and careful.

I nodded like an i***t.

She helped me up, dusted off my shirt like a mother would a child who’d fallen off a bike, then stepped back. I thought she'd say something. I thought she'd lash out, call me a liar, a fraud, a waste of her time. But she just… stared.

She held me as we walked back into the house, and she closed the door behind us.

No words passed between us as we sat. She didn’t ask who the girl was. I didn’t offer answers. I wanted to. God knows I did. But something in her quietness frightened me more than yelling ever could.

For someone who had decided to stay with me this night, for someone who I had thought I was going to see what was behind those beautiful apparels she wore. I thought this was the night I was going to see Constance's beautiful body, kiss and caress her.

She paused.

"I'll see you later," she said. Just that. Nothing more.

Then she walked away like nothing had happened.

But I knew better.

She was burning inside.

That Night…

I couldn’t sleep. The ice pack against my cheek had melted into lukewarm water, and the pain had settled into a dull throb. But that wasn’t what kept me awake.

It was Constance.

Her silence.

The way she looked at me but didn’t look at me.

I could feel her thoughts from miles away. Questions. Doubts. Maybe even regret.

I needed to explain. I needed her to know the truth about Ijeoma.

So I poured myself a glass of whiskey, walked to the window, and let the memories take over.

‘Three Years Ago—Ijeoma’

I met her at a tech conference in Abuja. She wore confidence like perfume: thick, alluring, and impossible to ignore. We sat on the same panel. She spoke about machine learning like she built it with her own hands. I was intrigued.

And somehow, it was easy with her.

Too easy.

We clicked fast. We were just a thing, so I thought, but I wasn’t sure of how Ijeoma saw it. She was the first woman I ever imagined a life with. Not just passion and the s*x, but a life. Stability. Companionship. Shared growth.

But the truth?

Ijeoma was a storm wrapped in silk.

Behind her charm was chaos. Jealousy. Control. Accusations. She was smart, yes; but emotionally volatile.

I was at my lowest when I stayed the longest. i noticed this with Ijeoma

We had a fight; God, one of too many. She thought I was sleeping with someone else. I wasn't. I never did during our time together; she was the one woman that made me keep to just her during my time as a playboy. I really wanted her. But trust was a stranger in our relationship.

That photo Constance saw?

It was taken a week before I ended things with her.

She came over uninvited. She said she wanted to talk, wearing a short, light, slightly visible gown so seductive that I could see her lingerie. We were calm for the first time in weeks. She leaned in and kissed me. I was too tired to fight it. That was how it started; she had me wrapped in her pretty little fingers

Ijeoma had the prettiest eyes I had seen before Constance; when she talked, her voice was calm as well as authoritative. I could feel every part of her in her voice when she spoke to me. It felt like she had a charm over me.

She told me, “Lean backwards; I can’t really feel your body.” I immediately did as she asked; I leaned backwards, allowing her access to me. She kissed me intensely; I couldn’t help but get hard. This is Ijeoma we are talking about; she wore a light gown that exposed her thick thighs.

Ijeoma has one of the biggest asses I’ve seen; curved from below, she had the hourglass shape. Rare to see, but she was that beautiful; her tummy lines were perfectly curved to her C-cup boobs, her shoulders slightly broad to her beautiful neck, which held the perfect face and lips.

Ijeoma had her lips pressing on mine on the couch, her hands all over me, caressing and touching my d**k; she knew what she wanted, and I also wanted it at that moment. And when I got completely hard, she had won. I flipped her to the other side, now on top of her; I began to kiss her lips harder. Her gown had a zipper at the back, so I undid that immediately. She now had just her lingerie on, and I had my boxers on. Staring at that beautiful body, all I wanted to do was to devour her, let her feel me in her; I wanted her to feel me one last time.

We continued kissing. I gently took my hands down her tummy and to her panties. Immediately I felt her; it was just calling my name. So soft and juicy, I couldn’t wait any longer. I wanted this to go farther than we had gone. I took off her bra; face deep in her boobs, I rubbed and nibbled on one whilst I sucked on the other. She moaned slowly; she wanted more of it. The faster I went, the harder she moaned. My hands still inside her p***y, stroking her gently, following the rhythm of how I sucked her boobs, she moaned louder and louder.

I couldn’t take it any longer; I wanted to taste her. My tongue moved from her boobs down to her tummy and slowly touched her p***y. She moaned loudly again, held my head against her p***y as I sucked on it hard; I used one of my fingers on her c**t while I sucked her p***y, rubbing her with a fast rhythm. Her legs were shaking as though she was hit by lightning. It seemed like she was about to c*m. I took my face off and rubbed her p***y faster with my hands till she came all over. I lay back by her side after a few minutes to gasp for air and to get ready for the main round. The next thing I heard next shocked me.

“Camera Click.” she had just taken a picture of us together on the bed; my heart skipped.

I asked her to take it down. She didn’t.

That was the last straw. I ended it officially. Cut all ties.

But it seems ghosts don’t stay buried forever.

Present Day—Midnight

My phone buzzed.

It was a message.

Constance: “Are you home?”

My heart did a double take.

I replied instantly. “Yes.”

No response. Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Then a knock at the door.

She stood there, black hoodie, joggers, no makeup, face stripped bare of all pretense.

I opened the door slowly.

She walked past me into the apartment without a word.

Closed the door behind her.

Then turned to face me.

“Samuel, I want the truth.”

I nodded. Sat down on the edge of the couch. “Okay.”

She remained standing, arms crossed. “Who is she? And don’t say 'just someone I used to know.’ I saw the picture. I saw her face. I saw your face.”

I swallowed hard. “Her name is Ijeoma. We were together… for almost a year. It ended badly.”

“And the picture?”

“That photo was taken at the end of it all. She kissed me, then something little happened. That was it.”

Constance laughed; dry, hollow. “That was it?”

“Yes. I didn’t plan it. I didn’t want it.”

She stared at me, jaw tight, eyes sharp. “So you didn’t sleep with her that night?”

I paused.

“No,” I said. “I didn’t.” Actually, i didn’t so it was not a lie

Another pause.

She sat down across from me. The space between us was heavy.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered.

“I wanted to,” I said. “But we just started something… and I was scared. I didn’t want to ruin what we were building.”

She nodded slowly. “You know what hurts?”

“What?”

“That I believed you were different.”

Her voice cracked on the last word. Just a little.

I reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away. But she didn’t squeeze back either.

“I am,” I said. “I’m just… complicated. Like everyone else.”

She stood up again. Restless. Pacing.

“Samuel, I like you. More than I should. But this? This feels like a warning sign.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t know if I’m ready to fight someone else’s ghosts while I’m still trying to heal from mine.”

I didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say that could erase the past.

She grabbed her keys.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“To get some air.”

“Constance…"

“I’ll call you if I want to come back.”

Constance’s POV

I walked down the stairs like a ghost. The cold air slapped my face and the tears came before I could stop them.

God, why did it hurt this much?

Why did I care this deeply?

He wasn’t mine. Not really. We only just kissed. But it felt like betrayal.

The kind that stings in your soul because it confirms your worst fear:

That you’re not enough.

That no one ever stays.

That maybe you’re easy to want but hard to love.

I kept walking until I got to the park near his place. The one with the old swings and the broken lamp that flickered like a dying star.

I sat on the bench and let the tears fall.

“I shouldn’t have come back,” I whispered to myself.

But I did.

Because somewhere deep down, I wanted him to fight for me.

To prove me wrong.

My phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number.

I almost didn’t answer.

But something told me to.

I picked up.

A woman’s voice on the other end.

“Is this Constance?”

“Yes… Who’s this?”

“It’s Ijeoma.”

My heart froze.

She continued.

“I think we need to talk. About Samuel. And about the photo. There’s something you don’t know…”