My Yuri Harem 23 Kick-Off

"Mad, go to the store and get me some pasta sauce."

"Yes, Mam," I heard in the background.

It had been three weeks since we came to Nepal. Since we were unclear about the present status of our objective, we decided to shift the focus on Mad's health. She was forced to rest until she could walk again properly. In the meantime, we found a small house to rent in the middle of the town of Kathmandu.

We wanted to be done with our objective and go home as soon as-

A cellphone call broke my train of thought. It was Mad's. Maybe she took my phone and was calling on hers to contact me. I let go of the knife and wiped off my hand on the ap.r.o.n I was wearing. Her phone was on the bed covered with sheets. I found it and saw a number flashing on the screen.

I accepted the call and my ear was bombarded with loud cheers and hooting. It seemed like somebody stood between an ongoing rally.

"h.e.l.lo? Who's this?"

I heard somebody saying 'Yeah, yeah. Two hours? Okay.'

I repeated myself, "h.e.l.lo?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Hold on. I'm almost in my room."

The voice was breaking, but I could hear the heavy breaths the individual on the other side was taking.

"Yes, h.e.l.lo. It's me, Priscilla. Put Kiyomi on the phone."

I pulled the phone off my ear and almost pressed the red b.u.t.ton.

Why was she calling? Why was she calling Madonna? Why does she want to take to me?

I put the phone back to my ear and gulped my fear away. "Hi, yes. Its me speaking."

"Hey. I'm not in for a long talk. I just wanted to know when did you want me to come?"

"D-Did Mad talk about you coming to meet us?"

"Sweety, I'm not going to meet 'the iron maidens'. Madonna agreed that she'll get every person she screwed over in the past in one room. I will be coming to see how many people she f.u.c.ked before she reached me. And since you're dragging in the last position, it'll be even tastier for you to find out. But please do let me know how it feels to have a frisky piece of a.s.s as your life partner."

My heartbeat contrasted the silence in the room. it was too loud.

Too loud.

A little too fast.

The hand that held Madonna's phone felt heavy. I pulled the phone once again off my ear, went to her call log and deleted the recent entry.

Madonna needs to recover from Priscilla's trauma before she could take it any from Amaan.

Possibly Brad.

Will there be more joining us?

How long should I go?

I tossed the phone back on the bed and went into the kitchen.

Three days pa.s.sed and Madonna was back on her feet. Which meant she would be gone for almost a day, leaving me in the hands of Amaan.

It wasn't the most pleasant thought to have. Seeing that I had almost no knowledge about this individual.

We were back at Amaan's villa, waiting for her at the bar. The room was as dark as before, but the experience was different.

Was it the air?

The gears rotated once again, and my thoughts collected itself to look at Amaan, who was coming out of her bedroom in the similar fashion as before. This time in pink lingerie. That fair skin packed into a two piece was a treat.

"Welcome back, ladies. I hope you're doing fine," She said, smiling at us.

I returned it with a smile of my own, while Madonna couldn't help but scoff at her.

"I'm here to tell you that I'll be leaving for Pokhara tonight. I'll get Blessing by tomorrow. Just make sure you don't put our fingers on my wife."

"Ooh, I can't be sure about that!"

"Again, Amaan, and I won't be saying it again. Keep your claws! Off! My wife!!"

I felt like a meek princess in between two princes wooing me for love. Except In this case, I already had a price, and she was a princess too.

Too Romantic!

Wait, I should not be cheering!!

Amaan leaned over the bar and kissed Madonna on the forehead.

"May Allah protect you from harm's way."

I felt hot in me. My ears were heating up, I could feel it. My heart wanted to jump out of my chest. my body was ready to tumble over and land on the ground.

Was it anger that was burning me from inside out?

No, it was-

Jealousy.

I couldn't recall anything that happened between Madonna getting kissed and leaving out the front door. I came back to my senses when Amaan snapped her fingers in my face.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ms. Habib, I was, just, lost in thought."

"No, Ms. Kiyomi, this isn't the time to be lost in yourself. You have me with you. How about we indulge ourselves in some quality time?"

"Su-Sure. Do you have something specific in mind?"

Amaan thought about something for a while, then held my hands and spoke, "How about this? We have this huge estate to ourselves. I can take you on a tour, and we can enjoy ourselves to the fullest while we do that!"

That cheerful tone of hers was seductive.

I carefully stepped down from the stool and said, "Lead the way."

She grabbed my hand and led me to the staircase behind the bar.

Two minutes later, we were on the ma.s.sage table.

Amaan had two ma.s.sage tables in her house. She had two ma.s.seuses from Taiwan, and they were doing a phenomenal job on us.

I was face down laying on the ma.s.sage table in my birthday suit. So was Amaan on the neighbouring table. We were both moaning in relief. My back hadn't felt that relaxed in years. My leg muscles were also relaxed to their limit. The ma.s.seuse's ma.s.sage on my feet made me feel so light I thought I could walk on clouds. Fingers running all over my oil dipped body felt heavenly.

It was time to turn over, and so we did. My first instinct was to look at Amaan. She was laying on her back, with every part of her body exposed to three females in the room. I looked at her long luscious black hair. She had thrown it over her shoulder, so they were spilling from the table and were hanging in the air. They were thick, but shiny. My eyes went back to her face, which was brighter to look at in white light. She had no wrinkles whatsoever on her face. Her perfect eyelashes complimented her eyes. Her lips were juicy pink, and in the middle was a small nose.

I couldn't stop at her face and like gravity, my gaze was pulled downwards. She had a long neck for a lady, which merged with her shoulders like river flowing into the ocean. I could see her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as they fell a little on either side. Her dark nipple was like bullseyes on perfectly rounded breast. Her toned stomach was a subject of my jealousy.

I had to lift my head a little to peek at rest of her body. So I raised myself a little to observe everything under her torso. I could see she took very good care between her legs. She had a dark patch above her v.a.g.i.n.a, but it was cleanly shaven. Her legs were also smooth and without a mark. At last, she had perfect toenails, painted red.

I threw my head back on the table and sighed at myself.

"Like what you saw?" Amaan asked me the question I didn't want to answer. Not because I didn't like what I saw. I, of course, did. But it was equivalent of a teenage boy looking at p.o.r.n magazines.

It was embarra.s.sing.

"I'm really sorry, Ms. Habib. I didn't mean to-"

"Drop the Habib, darling. Its only you and me here. Call me Amaan."

"Yes, okay."

There was silence in the room.

"So, did you like- "

"You aren't going to let go until I answer, would you?"

I could sense her smiling, so I closed my eyes in embarra.s.sment.

"So, Kiyomi, tell me, how did you and Madonna meet?", Amaan asked out of nowhere.

I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at her, but she was already looking in my direction. I turned my head on the beat and preferred staring at the white roof than closing my eyes again.

"We met in a village, not far from here."

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Well, technically it was a forest. It was near to the village, so I opted to add it in my reply." I was fl.u.s.tering in my replies.

Why was she asking me about Madonna all of a sudden?

"Is that it?", Amaan asked.

"Well, that IS how we met."

"Darling, I meant what led you to her. Surely you had a life before she met Madonna, right? As far as I can tell, and please feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, you seem to have some Chinese, j.a.panese or Korean genes in you. I was curious as to how a j.a.panese girl could meet someone like Madonna in the middle of a forest in Nepal."

That clarified what she wanted to ask about me.

The only pages in my life I never wanted to turn again.

Amaan continued, "I mean, you and your wife are out here in a foreign land in an individual's house you never met before, seeking apologies for only one of you. I think I won't be the last customer, which means you get to listen to even more stories from Madonna's past. What I'm saying is, my darling, that I'd like to lend an ear to your story."

I turned over on the table, looking at the floor made of limestone.

"Its not very interesting story. Besides, it's a long story."

"We have a night to us. I guess I'll trade my past with you if that makes you comfortable."

Amaan's offer wasn't impressive. Mad will be back by tomorrow, and I'll know everything about her and Mad.

But-

I guess-

Telling one more person won't hurt much, right?

I adjusted my face and closed my eyes, "Once, there was a guy called Donald Anicrow…"