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MidReal Story
Forbidden Love
Scenario:this is in london england and this story is about lust and desire and love and sexual tension and adultery and age difference and travels and happiness and fight and crying and alcohol and drug use and parties and marriage and tattoos and my name is mohamed abdi and i have dark skin and i am 24 years old and i am muscular and i have tattoos on my legs and arms and abdomen and neck and hips and i just moved to a suburbs in london from leeds from my parents and i met a man and a woman named claire and tom allen and tom has blond hair and black eyes and he is 46 years old and claire has blue eyes and brown hair and she is 42 years old and i became attracted to her and she was attracted to me but she was conflicted between me and her husband
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Mohamed Abdi
male. He is a young man who recently moved to a new neighborhood in London from Leeds. He is adventurous,introspective,and curious. Mohamed finds himself drawn to Claire,a married woman with whom he has an immediate and intense connection. Despite the complicated situation,he struggles with his growing attraction to her and the developing friendship with her husband,Tom. Mohamed is selfconscious about his dark skin and tattoos,but feels accepted by his new community.
Claire
female. She is a married woman with two children,living in a large house in London with her husband,Tom. She is beautiful,conflicted,and introspective. Claire struggles with her attraction to Mohamed and the guilt of her feelings. She enjoys the attention Mohamed gives her and feels drawn to him,but is torn between her desire and her marital duties. She often drinks too much and uses medication to help her sleep at night.
Hannah
female. She is Zoe's friend who also frequently visits the Allens' house. She is energetic,candid,and humorous. Hannah enjoys large quantities of wine and often teases Mohamed about his appearance and age compared to her boyfriend. Despite their banter,she appreciates Mohamed's company during her visits and contributes to the lively atmosphere at the house.
I don't know what it was about her, but the moment I saw her, I knew I wanted her and would do anything to make her mine.
She was beautiful, sexy, hot; everything that a man could want in a woman.
She had two kids and was married to a man ten years her senior, but none of that stopped me wanting her.
The moment she walked into the room, I knew that there was no going back for me.
The guilt she felt about her attraction to me only made me want her more and was a turn on.
Watching her squirm was enjoyable and knowing that she was thinking about me in the same way that I was thinking about her was pleasing.
I didn't know what the future held for us, but I knew that I wanted to spend it with her.
She may have been ten years my senior, but I didn't care.
The fact that she was married and had two kids made no difference to me either.
I wanted her and would have done anything to be with her.
My name is Mohamed Abdi.
I am 24 years old and have recently moved to a suburbs in London from Leeds with my parents.
I am dark skinned, muscular, and have a number of tattoos on my legs, arms, abdomen, neck, and hips.
I have been working as a personal trainer in a gym in Leeds and have moved to London to start my own business.
I had been living with my parents in Leeds, but decided that it was time to move out and start my own life.
My parents were happy for me to go and I knew that they would be even happier if I settled down with a nice girl.
My parents are Muslims and would want me to marry a Muslim girl.
I was not interested in that; I wanted someone who made me feel something and who I could make feel something.
I didn't care about her age or what she looked like as long as she made me feel good.
The afternoon sun streamed through the window as I unzipped my suitcase on the bedroom floor.
I began to methodically sort my belongings into neat piles on the bed.
The small bag of weed and pills went straight into my sock drawer. A text notification buzzed from my phone on the bedside table.
I picked it up and read the message from Tom Allen: "Hey, we're having a barbecue in our backyard this afternoon if you'd like to come. We'll be firing up the grill around 5pm."
I smiled as I read his message; I knew Claire would be there.
She had mentioned that they were planning on having a barbecue over the weekend when we had met at the gym earlier in the week.
I began to hang up my shirts in the wardrobe, catching sight of myself in the mirror hanging on the back of the door.
I ran my hand over the dark lines of tattoos on my arms as I studied myself in the mirror.
The smell of grilled meat already wafted through my open window from their backyard below.
I pulled out a bottle of wine from my suitcase and placed it on top of the fridge before pulling on a fitted black t-shirt.
I walked out into the backyard through the open patio doors and was immediately hit with the smell of sizzling burgers and hot dogs.
The Allens' backyard was already filled with their neighbors from around the street, all chatting and laughing as they mingled around the grill.
I scanned the crowd, looking for Claire, as I made my way over to the coolers set up on a table beside the fence.
A few of the women turned to stare as I walked past them, their eyes lingering on my tattooed arms that were exposed by my fitted t-shirt.
Mrs. Peterson from next door touched my bicep as she asked me about my workout routine.
Hannah's mother giggled at my accent when I told her that I was from Leeds.
I barely registered their attention, too busy searching for Claire amongst the crowd of suburban neighbors.
I finally spotted her standing by the drinks table near the fence, wearing a flowing summer dress that fell to her ankles.
She was smiling and chatting with a group of people around her as she poured glasses of wine for them.
Her eyes flicked up to meet mine across the yard before she quickly looked away again. I picked up the bottle of wine that I had brought from upstairs and made my way over to her.
"Here you go," I said, holding out the bottle to her.
"Thanks, Mohamed," Claire replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she took the bottle.
"I wasn't sure if you'd come," she added, glancing around nervously to see if anyone was watching.
"I couldn't miss a chance to see you," I said, leaning in slightly, my voice low and earnest.
She smiled, her eyes flicking up to meet mine before she looked away again.
"Let me show you around the garden," she said, picking up her wine glass and walking off around the side of the house.
I followed behind her as she led me past the garden beds that were filled with a variety of flowers and herbs.
We made our way to a small greenhouse at the far end of their property.
The evening sun cast long shadows through the glass panels.
Inside, potted herbs lined metal shelves that stretched up to the ceiling.
The air was warm and humid, thick with the scent of mint and basil.
Claire set her wine glass down on a shelf, her hands shaking slightly as she did so.
I stood close behind her in the narrow space, my chest almost touching her back.
I could see a faint scar above her collarbone. "I love gardening," Claire said, turning to face me.
"It's something that I've always enjoyed doing. I find it relaxing."
Her voice trailed off as I stepped closer to her.
The door creaked open behind us and Tom's voice called out from across the yard.
"The steaks are ready!"
Claire jumped slightly at his voice and quickly picked up her wine glass from the shelf beside us.
Her fingers brushed against my knuckles as we walked back through the garden to the party.
The evening sun cast long shadows across the lawn as we made our way back to the crowd of people around the grill.
The sound of chatter and laughter grew louder as we walked back around the side of the house.
Claire slowed her pace as we neared a cluster of rose bushes, allowing Tom's voice to fade slightly into the background.
She paused for a moment, bending down to adjust her sandal.
She steadied herself with one hand on my arm as she reached down, her palm warm against my skin.
When she straightened back up, her face was flushed pink and she wouldn't meet my eyes.
We emerged from behind the greenhouse just as Hannah called out from near the fence.
"Hey, Mom! I'm going to go get some more drinks from the house," she said, waving at Claire as she walked off with a group of her friends.
Claire watched her go before turning back to me.
She led me over to a quiet corner of the patio where a few empty chairs sat in the shade.
The sun was starting to set, casting a warm orange glow over the backyard.
I pulled out a chair for Claire and then sat down beside her.
She leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her wine, her eyes fixed on the group of people around the grill.
"So, Hannah's got herself a new boyfriend," she said, setting her wine glass down on the table beside us.
"He met him at a cooking class that she took last month. His name is Magnus Johansson."
She pronounced his name slowly, like it was foreign to her tongue.
"He's Swedish," she added, tracing the rim of her wine glass with one finger.
"He's a chef at one of those fancy restaurants in town. He's been teaching Hannah how to cook. They've been seeing each other for a few weeks now."
Claire's speech was slightly slurred as she spoke, her third glass of wine almost empty beside us.
"They're really into each other. I'm glad that Hannah has found someone who makes her happy."
She took another sip of her wine, watching as Tom called out from near the grill. "I need more ice! Can someone get some from the kitchen?"
Tom yelled out, waving his arms to get everyone's attention.
Claire stood up too quickly, stumbling slightly as she did so.
I reached out and grabbed her elbow, steadying her as she regained her balance.
"Thanks," she said, smiling at me before walking off towards the house.
I watched her go before standing up and joining the group of people around the grill.
The evening wore on as we grilled steaks and drank more wine.
The party began to wind down as the sun dipped below the horizon.
The patio lights flickered on, casting a warm glow over the backyard.
Claire and I found ourselves alone again as the last of the guests said their goodbyes and left.
We were sitting in cushioned lounge chairs near the pool, her wine glass almost empty beside us.
She reached for the bottle between us, her hand shaking slightly as she poured herself another glass.
"I'm so sorry about tonight," she said, looking over at me with a nervous laugh.
"I'm not usually like this. I don't know what came over me."
"It's fine," I said, reaching for my own wine glass.
"You're just excited to have your daughter back home."
She smiled at me, her eyes slightly unfocused as she took another sip of her wine.
"Yeah. I guess you're right. I've missed her so much since she left for university."
She set her wine glass down on the table beside us, running a hand through her hair.
"I'm glad that she's happy with this new boyfriend of hers." "Do you think they're serious?" she asked, looking over at me curiously.
"I don't know," I replied honestly.
"They seem pretty into each other. But they're young. They've got plenty of time to figure things out."
She nodded in agreement, picking up her wine glass again and taking another sip.
"I remember when Tom and I were their age. We were so in love with each other. It was like nothing else mattered."
She looked away from me then, staring out at the pool as it reflected the twinkling lights of the patio above us.
"We met in high school. He was two years older than me but he waited for me to graduate before he went off to university. We got married when I was twenty-one."
She turned back to look at me then, a small smile playing on her lips.
"Twenty-one years old. So young."
She shook her head slightly, her eyes sad as she looked over at me.
"Sometimes I wish that we'd waited. That we'd had more time together before we got married. But then Hannah wouldn't be here and...I don't know."
She shrugged slightly, taking another sip of her wine.
"Do you regret it?" I asked gently, watching her face for any sign of hesitation.
She paused, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass again.
"Not regret, exactly," she said softly, "but sometimes I wonder what life would have been like if we'd taken a different path."
She looked down at her hands, her fingers trembling slightly as she spoke.
"I'm sorry," she said, looking up at me with a small smile.
"I shouldn't be dumping all of this on you. I'm sure that you're not interested in hearing about some old woman's marriage problems."
I reached over and gently took her hand in mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"You're not old," I said softly.
"And I'm here for you, Claire. It will get better."
She looked up at me, her eyes filled with doubt.
"I don't know about that," she whispered, pulling her hand from mine to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
She picked up her wine glass again, taking a long sip before setting it back down on the table beside us.
After a moment, she reached into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen.
She scribbled something down before folding the paper and handing it to me.
"My phone number," she said quietly, her eyes looking away from me.
"Call me if you want to talk sometime."
Her fingers brushed against mine as I took the paper from her hand.
I tucked it into my pocket, watching as she stood up and walked off towards the house.
The next day was Sunday, my first day off after working at the Allens' house for a week.
I'd received my pay yesterday morning when Tom came home from work.
He handed me an envelope with my name on it before nodding at me curtly and walking off towards his study. I'd gone into town yesterday afternoon to buy some groceries for the week and withdraw some money from my account.
The bank was located in the center of town near the train station.
I walked off towards it now, passing through the quiet streets of the suburbs as they slowly came alive for another day.
The sun was shining brightly overhead as I walked, casting long shadows across the pavement beneath our feet.
I passed by Claire's house on my way into town, glancing over at it as I walked by.
Tom's car was already gone from the driveway, heading off to another day of work in the city.
I glanced over at Claire's living room window, noticing that the curtains were still open from last night's party.
I slowed my pace slightly as I continued walking by, wondering if Claire was still home or if she'd gone out for a run or something. The thought of her running sent a rush of blood southward beneath my belt and I forced myself to look away before I got too hard to continue walking comfortably.
I quickened my pace, determined to focus on the tasks ahead and not the lingering warmth of her touch.
