His room was our favourite hide-out. It was on the third floor of a huge commercial building, where an elderly woman used to stay with her son. He had practically rented a room in her home, and had to call his landlady to open the gates every time he wanted to enter his room. He used to put up with it, only because the old lady was sweet and had voluntarily offered to look after him the one time he had fallen ill. And in a new city, he couldn’t have asked for more.
Anyway, so, every time we went to his place, I would wait on the second floor while he would call the landlady, wait for her to open the door, and then sneak me inside as soon as she returned to her room. Because the old lady lived next door, he asked me not to make much noise and would always turn on the volume of his TV, so that she wouldn’t grow suspicious of us.
This sneaking in, worked just fine for us. Truth be told, it kinda added to the excitement of it all.
One such winter evening, we came back from a particularly romantic movie and were quite um, turned on by the time we reached his room. We found it quite hard to keep our hands off each other, and started kissing passionately the moment we entered his room.
Before we knew it, we were in bed, making out, undressing each other and moaning in pleasure, when we heard a shocked gasp, behind us. We saw my boyfriend’s landlady closing the door and leaving quietly, and then heard her knocking rudely on our door. Oh, we were SO embarrassed and scared. In fact, I was on the verge of crying.
My boyfriend quickly answered her knock, told her he was coming, put on his shirt and went out, slowly closing the door behind him. Twenty long minutes later, he came in looking worried. He said his landlady was extremely annoyed at him and wanted him to drop me home, ASAP.
But I couldn’t possibly go home at 2 in the night, after I had told my parents that I was staying at my friend’s place. I began to freak out and shouting at him for forgetting to lock the door. To his credit, though, he didn’t lose his cool, told me he would call up a friend and we would spend the night at that friend’s place.
I didn’t like the idea, I’d rather have stayed in a hotel than go to a friend’s place after being kicked out of his room. But that would have meant receiving rude and suspicious stares from the hotel management and also sharing my identity with them - which I wasn’t comfortable with.
So, I agreed with him, and both of us left his room, with his landlady watching us leave. We booked a cab and 15 minutes later we were at his friend’s place. You can’t even imagine how embarrassed I felt - I almost urged my boyfriend to take a hotel room even then, but his friend had already spotted us and was directing us inside his house. Thankfully, he was nice enough to avoid small talk that night, made us some coffee and left us alone in a room that he had readied for us.
As soon as my boyfriend’s friend left, I relaxed a bit and started laughing at the whole situation. My boyfriend turned to me and said, “I’m sorry, baby, that you had to go through that. But you know, going to a hotel would have been worse, right?”
“I know”, I said, and kissed him.
… And we went on to finish what we had started in his room. Oh, and the next day he went to his landlady, apologised to her and shifted to another flat without supervision.