Apple of Her Eye Ch. 01 - Sex Stories

Apple of Her Eye Ch. 01

Why do people collect unusual items? To someone who doesn't collect, it might appear strange, a waste of time and space. But for those who collect, it's the opposite.

When they come across something unique and rare, their immediate thought is to save its beauty for themselves and to showcase it on their prized shelf. They can't bear to let the beauty of the item go to waste.

It cannot be any truer that "beauty is in the eyes of the beholder", as Margaret Wolfe Hungerford said. However, she didn't explain how that beholder might act irrationally to continually appreciate that beauty or the methods they employ to acquire it.

Triya, a 21-year-old second-year art student, was living in a rented apartment on the second floor. Tall in physic, brown for her skin, long black strands for hair, black eyes, and sharp features as her weapon. She was beautiful in everyone's eyes.

She possessed a nature of joy, a personality so free, like wind in cold weather. Everyone around her adorned her for her kindness, for how sweet and carefree she was, and for how intelligent she was.

But no one knew a side she had kept hidden. A side that could make eyes wide open, mouths to gasp in shock, and hearts to flutter with passion or fear.

And that is because she possessed a similar fascination for collecting unique items, driven by the desire to capture their beauty for herself. Whether you call it a fascination or obsession, it was about to introduce a heavy tide into her otherwise ...

... calm life.

And it began on a cool and misty autumn morning. She was hurriedly scurrying around her cluttered room, not as usual, preparing to head to college after a late night.

She gathered her painting supplies from her disheveled bed, the carpeted floor, and from the table beside her bed, stuffing them in her black beg. A bite of a pulpy red apple from a paper bag on her table, her blue water bottle on her left, and she was checking around to see if she had forgotten something.

After mentally reviewing her checklist, her gaze drifted to the brown shelves on the right side of her bed, adorned by the collection of sculptures, paintings, pens, coins, and various other items. A sense of satisfaction surfaced on her face, a feeling of fulfillment forming inside her stomach.

She then locked the door with great care, given its proximity to the shelf, and stepped into the corridor of her apartment. Unbeknownst to her, it was the beginning of what would turn out to be an extraordinary day, one that would reveal her hidden depths.

Despite running late, she hurried down the pavement towards her college, still absorbing the serene morning atmosphere with its calm air, the melodious chirping of birds, and the bustling traffic.

Fortunately, her apartment was so close to the college that she didn't need to fret about being tardy. But there was another reason for her brisk pace -- her dearest friend, Prisha.

Prisha, an artist of the same age, shared a passion for the ...