Bawal na Pagnanasa (SPG)

Ang Lambat

ANNA'S POV

Tanghali na nang magising ako.

For the first time since I arrived, naging payapa ang tulog ko. My body felt light, the fever completely gone. The lingering soreness between my legs was the only reminder of what I did last night with Jake behind the coconut trees.

Paglabas ko ng kwarto, tahimik ang bahay. Auntie Belen was already at the market, surely.

Naglakad ako papunta sa likod-bahay. Doon ko nakita si Marco.

He was sitting on a low wooden stool under the shade of a mango tree, repairing a large green fishing net. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, dappling his skin with shifting patterns of light and shadow.

Again, he was shirtless. Parang allergy yata ng lalaking 'to ang mag-tshirt.

His back was bent forward, highlighting the deep groove of his spine. Bawat galaw ng kamay niya sa lambat, gumagalaw din ang muscles sa likod at balikat niya. It was hypnotic. Watching a man do manual labor was a different kind of aphrodisiac. It screamed capability. Power.

Lumapit ako. "Good morning... ah, good afternoon pala, Tito."

Lumingon siya. He squinted a bit against the sun before recognizing me

"Gising ka na pala. May pagkain sa mesa. Sinangag at daing."

"Salamat po."

Hindi ako pumasok para kumain. Instead, lumapit pa ako lalo. I was wearing a thin spaghetti-strap pambahay shorts and shirt—comfortable, airy.

"Tulungan na po kita," offer ko.

Tinignan niya ako, raising an eyebrow. "Marunong ka bang magsulsi ng lambat? Taga-Maynila ka, ‘di ba?"

"Hindi," I admitted with a small smile, sitting on the bamboo bench beside him. "Pero mabilis akong matuto. Turuan mo ako."

I wanted to be close to him. Not because I was "Hungry" yet—my meter was reset—but because I just wanted to be. I wanted to test the waters. To see if the electricity was still there when I wasn't delirious with lust.

Bumuntong-hininga siya, pero inabutan niya ako ng nylon thread at karayom.

"Sige. Ganito 'yan. Hawakan mo dito..."

He shifted his stool closer to the bench. Our knees almost touched.

"Ipasok mo dito sa butas, tapos ikutin mo ng dalawang beses bago hatakin. Dapat mahigpit. Kapag maluwag, makakawala ang isda."

I tried to follow his instructions. My fingers were clumsy compared to his swift, practiced movements.

"Mali," sabi niya agad. "Huwag mong hatakin agad. Buhol 'yan."

Before I could correct it, he reached out.

Hinawakan niya ang kamay ko para gabayan ang pagpasok ng karayom.

Zap.

Whatever peace I felt waking up instantly evaporated.

His hand was large, encasing mine completely. His palm was calloused, rough against my soft skin, but his grip was surprisingly gentle. Mainit. Sobrang init ng kamay niya.

"Ganito," bulong niya, leaning in closer to show me the angle.

Naamoy ko na naman siya. Sunlight, soap, and that distinct male scent that seemed to be permanently etched into his skin. His cheek was inches away from my shoulder. I could feel the heat radiating from his bare chest.

My breath hitched. "G-ganito ba?"

"Oo."

He didn't let go immediately. We stayed like that for a few seconds—his hand over mine, guiding the needle through the net. It was an intimate gesture for such a mundane task. Parang hindi lang lambat ang tinatahi namin.

Parang may tinatahi kaming koneksyon na hindi dapat.

Dahan-dahan niyang binitawan ang kamay ko, but the ghost of his touch lingered.

"Mabilis ka ngang matuto," sabi niya, returning to his own section of the net. But his voice sounded a little thicker.

Pinagpatuloy namin ang ginagawa namin. Silence stretched between us, but it wasn't awkward. It was heavy. Charged. Every time he moved, I was hyper-aware of him. Every time he shifted his legs and his knee brushed against my thigh, kuryente ang dumadaloy sa akin.

"Matagal na kayo dito ni Tita?" tanong ko, trying to break the tension.

"Oo. Dito na ako lumaki. Si Belen, dayo lang din dati."

He paused, biting the nylon thread to cut it. His teeth were white, sharp. Watching him bite the thread made my stomach flip.

"Bakit?" tanong niya, turning to look at me intently. "Nabo-bored ka na ba?"

"Hindi naman," I said softly. "Masaya dito. Tahimik."

"Tahimik..." He chuckled humorlessly. "Minsan, masyadong tahimik. Nakakabaliw."

Their marriage. I could hear it in his tone. The loneliness.

"Hindi ka ba... nalulungkot?" I dared to ask. "Laging wala si Auntie."

Natigilan siya sa ginagawa niya. He looked at the ocean, his expression unreadable.

"Sanay na ako. Para sa future din naman ang ginagawa niya."

"Pero paano yung ngayon?" I pushed. "Paano yung pangangailangan mo ngayon?"

Slowly, he turned his head back to me. His dark eyes locked onto mine. There was a dangerous glint there. He knew exactly what I was asking. Hindi kami nag-uusap tungkol sa pera o pagkain. We were talking about something else.

"Marunong akong magtiis, Anna," seryoso niyang sagot. "Hindi lahat ng gusto, nakukuha."

It felt like a rebuke. A warning.

Or a challenge.

Biglang umihip ang malakas na hangin. The breeze was strong enough to blow some dry leaves onto the net we were fixing. But it also blew the strap of my sando down my shoulder.

Neither of us moved to fix it immediately.

His eyes dropped to my exposed shoulder. The skin there was fair, smooth, starkly white against the green net and his brown arm. I saw his gaze linger, trace the curve of my collarbone, then dip lower to where the loose neckline of my shirt gaped slightly.

If he looked closely, he would see that I wasn't wearing a bra.

I held my breath, chest rising and falling visibly. Look, I urged him silently. Tignan mo. Gusto mo ‘yan, ‘di ba?

Napalunok siya. I saw his Adam's apple bob.

"Anna!"

The shout broke the spell.

Sabay kaming napalingon. Si Auntie Belen, paparating galing sa gate, may bitbit na mga supot.

"Naku, ang init-init diyan sa labas! Pasok kayo, nagdala ako ng meryenda!"

Marco cleared his throat loudly and stood up abruptly, turning his back to me. "Sige. Pasok na tayo."

Inayos ko ang strap ng sando ko, my heart pounding in my throat.

He looked.

And for a split second, before he looked away... I saw hunger in his eyes too.

LATER THAT NIGHT

The "cure" from last night was starting to wear off.

Hindi pa naman ganap na Hunger, but the itch was starting. The tell-tale warmth in my lower belly began to stir again as I lay in bed.

Kasalanan 'to ng nangyari kanina. The accidental touches. The staring.

Lumabas ako para kumuha ng tubig. I was thirsty. Always thirsty.

Pagdaan ko sa tapat ng kwarto nina Auntie at Marco, nakabukas nang kaunti ang pinto.

Just a crack.

I shouldn't look. Masama 'to.

But I stopped.

Sumilip ako.

The room was dim, lit only by a lampshade. Nakahiga si Auntie Belen, tulog na tulog, pagod sa trabaho. She was snoring softly, balot na balot ng kumot.

Pero si Marco... gising pa.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from his wife. Facing the door. Facing me, though he couldn't see me in the dark hallway.

He was shirtless again (does he ever wear clothes inside?), wearing boxer briefs. He was looking at his hands—the same hands that touched mine earlier.

And then, I saw his hand move.

Dahan-dahan, binaba niya ang kamay niya sa pagitan ng mga hita niya. Through the fabric of his briefs, I could see the bulge. It was prominent. Hard.

My breath caught in my throat.

He was hard. And his wife was asleep right beside him.

Is he going to...?

He rubbed himself, just once, a frustrated, angry stroke over the fabric. Napapikit siya at tumingala, letting out a silent, ragged exhale.

He was frustrated. He was needy. Just like me.

Pinanood ko siya. I couldn't look away. Seeing him like this—vulnerable, aroused, and denied—made my own p***y clench violently. Instantly, moisture flooded my core.

Touch it, I whispered in my mind. Ilabas mo.

As if he heard me, he hooked his thumb under the waistband of his briefs.

But then, Auntie Belen stirred. "Marco... matulog ka na..." she mumbled in her sleep.

Marco froze. He immediately pulled his hand away, guilt washing over his features. He stood up, agitated, and walked towards the door.

Nanlaki ang mata ko. Papunta siya dito.

I bolted away from the door, sprinting silently back to my room. Isinara ko ang pinto, my back pressed against it, heart hammering like crazy.

Rinig ko ang mga yapak niya sa hallway. Mabigat. Mabagal.

Huminto ang mga yapak sa tapat ng pinto ko.

I stopped breathing.

He was standing right outside. Alam kong alam niyang gising ako. Does he know I was watching?

Hinawakan ko ang doorknob. Buksan mo, Anna. Papasukin mo siya.

My hand trembled over the lock. Just one click. Just one turn, and I could invite him in. We were both awake. We were both frustrated. We were both hungry.

I imagined opening the door. I imagined pulling him inside into the darkness of my room. I imagined pushing him against the door, ripping those briefs off, and taking that hard c**k into my mouth right then and there to silence his loneliness.

"Anna?"

His voice was a whisper. Low. Raspy.

Nanginig ang buong katawan ko. Tinawag niya ako.

"Gising ka pa ba?"

I bit my knuckles to stop myself from answering. Don't answer. If you answer, it's over.

Nanatili akong tahimik.

After a long, agonizing minute, narinig ko ang buntong-hininga niya. Then, the sound of footsteps walking away. Towards the bathroom.

Then, the sound of the shower turning on.

Napaupo ako sa sahig, clutching my chest.

He was taking a cold shower. To cool down.

Pero ako? Wala akong cold shower na makakapagpalamig sa akin.

Remembering the bulge in his briefs, remembering the way he touched himself... the Hunger came rushing back full force. Jake was forgotten. The "cure" was gone.

I crawled onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow to muffle my sounds.

My hand slid down my stomach, past the waistband of my shorts. I was soaking wet.

Dripping.

I spread my legs wide, my fingers diving straight into the slick heat.

"Marco..." I whispered his name into the darkness.

I imagined it was his hand. I rubbed my c**t in slow, agonizing circles, mimicking the rhythm I saw him use earlier.

"F*ck..."

I slid two fingers inside myself, stretching the walls that were aching for him. I pumped my fingers in and out, faster, harder.

Imagine he opened the door. Imagine he saw you watching. Imagine he followed you in.

"Tito... please..."

I arched my back, my hips bucking off the mattress. The pleasure was sharp, edged with the guilt of fantasizing about my aunt's husband while they were just across the hall.

My thumb worked my c**t mercilessly while my fingers f*cked me deep. The friction, the wet sounds filling the room, the image of his dark skin and hard cock... it was too much.

I came violently, biting my pillow to scream, my body shaking with the force of a forbidden orgasm.

Hinihingal ako nang matapos ako. Sweat made my shirt stick to my skin.

I lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling.

This was getting dangerous. Tonight, he stopped outside my door. Next time?

Next time, he might not walk away. And God help me, I knew I wouldn't lock the door.