It was a quiet evening in Ronda Riy’s SouthBank apartment. The dim lighting and soft hum of music emanating from the speaker in the corner created a cozy ambiance. Rita Faros and Faro Faros had been spending the evening reminiscing about their adventures, their laughter echoing through the apartment. The stories had somehow transitioned into music, and from music, into dance.
Faro twirled Rita with a laugh. Rita, dressed in her striking red tank top and jeans, moved with effortless grace, her hair cascading in waves as she followed Faro’s lead. Faro, in his plain white shirt and jeans, seemed to match her energy perfectly, his bright red hair catching the light as he spun and swayed.
The music shifted to a slower tempo, and the space between them disappeared. Their movements became more fluid, almost like a conversation without words. Rita’s hands rested lightly on Faro’s shoulders, while his hands settled at her waist. Their eyes met, and for a moment, it seemed as though the world outside of their dance didn’t exist.
The door to the apartment opened abruptly. Ronda stepped in, dressed in her athletic tank top and shorts from her evening jog. She froze, her breath catching as her gaze locked on the scene before her. The intimate dance, the way they moved so effortlessly together, the warmth in their smiles—it all struck her like a thunderbolt.
“What the hell is going on here?” Ronda’s voice cut through the music like a blade.
Rita and Faro broke apart, startled by Ronda’s sudden appearance. Faro looked guilty, running a hand through his hair. Rita, however, didn’t seem fazed. She stepped back with a confident smile, brushing her hair away from her face.
“Relax, Ronda,” Rita said with a playful smirk. “We were just dancing. No harm in that, right?”
“No harm?” Ronda’s voice rose as she dropped her gym bag by the door. “You call this harmless? I walk in and see my boyfriend and his aunt—dancing like… like lovers!”
“Ronda, come on,” Faro interjected, stepping toward her. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Oh really?” Ronda crossed her arms, glaring at both of them. “Because from where I’m standing, it sure looked like it.”
Rita sighed, rolling her eyes. “You’re overreacting, sweetheart. Faro and I are friends—family, even. This was just a little fun.”
Ronda’s gaze shifted to Faro, her eyes filled with hurt. “Is that what you think this is? Fun?”
Faro looked conflicted, his usual confidence faltering under Ronda’s accusatory stare. “Ronda, I—”
“Save it,” she snapped, turning on her heel and storming toward the bedroom. “I don’t want to hear it right now.”
The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Faro and Rita standing in awkward silence. Faro turned to Rita, his face a mix of frustration and guilt.
“Aunty, you shouldn’t have—”
“Oh, please,” Rita interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “She’ll cool off. She always does.”
Faro frowned, shaking his head. “You don’t get it. This isn’t just about the dance. Ronda feels like she’s always competing with you, and this… this didn’t help.”
Rita raised an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Competing with me? Now, that’s interesting.”
“It’s not a game, Aunty,” Faro said firmly. “I need to fix this.”
Without another word, he walked toward the bedroom door, leaving Rita standing alone in the living room. Feeling quite warm after the dance and confrontation, Rita removed her blue jeans, revealing her red panty now soaked in sweat and sat down on the couch. She lifted her arms to dry her sweaty armpits, which were now emitting a noticeable aroma in the room. Faro sniffed the air, closing his eyes momentarily— imagining going up to Rita and taking her sweaty panties off and start to sniff in her aroma’s like a love drug.
Rita’s body was glistening with sweat, and Faro couldn’t help but be drawn to her. He walked over to her and knelt down in front of her, looking up at her with desire in his eyes. Rita smiled down at him and ran her fingers through his hair. Faro leaned in and started to kiss her sweaty armpits, inhaling her scent deeply. Rita moaned with pleasure as Faro’s tongue explored her sweaty body tasting her sweat.
Then he snapped out of his fantasy world and opened his eyes – he stared at Rita for a while, dazed, before quickly turning his head to the bedroom doorknob and entering Ronda’s room. A thoughtful expression crossed Rita’s face as she turned the music off with the remote and sat pondering on the couch.
The night ended in tension, the echoes of the dance lingering in the air.