Mindi And Me A Fantasy

Mindi and Me -- A Fantasy

by

RubberKatey

©

2020

Author's Note: This work of fiction was originally written around 2007 when the TV series ER was still being broadcast. It was written when my girlfriend Jenny was living in the US and I was living in London. Jenny and I would exchange emails with sexual stories and fantasies. This story began as a series that I wrote that were inspired by a sexual dream that Jenny told me about. It has not been published before.

Needless to say, the Mindi in this story is a fictional version of a real life person, but not the real person.

Character names from ER belong to the TV company.

For stories involving me and Jenny, see my trio of stories: 'Rubber Katie and Latex Jenny'.

RubberKatey 2020

* * *

THE LOUNGE: 1:00 PM

Almost everything in the large, sparsely furnished room is white - white stone floor, white walls and ceiling, white rug, white furniture. The only patches of colour are provided by two huge, ten-feet-square abstract canvases which hang on the interior walls -- one mostly blue and one mostly green. The other two walls are floor to ceiling glass, providing a view of a terrace and garden and beyond those the hills and the multi-million-dollar homes of Beverley Hills.

I am sitting on one of two white leather sofas positioned at right angles on two sides of the pure white marble coffee table. They are stylishly modern but awkwardly low. Placed next to me on the cushion are my bag, my notebook and my pen. I am nervously waiting for my host.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," her voice calls from the next room. "Just a moment more and I will be all yours for the rest of the afternoon."

True to her word, she appears almost immediately carrying a tray with a jug and two highball glasses. She crosses the room, the ice tinkling in the jug. She steps carefully around the rug to avoid tripping on it and places the tray on the table. She sits on the other sofa, on the end nearest to me.

She leans towards me with her hand stretched-out and introduces herself formally. "Hi, I'm Parminder Nagra."

I take her hand and shake it. It is small and the skin is beautifully smooth.

"I'm Jenny R___," I say. "It's an absolute honour to meet you Miss Nagra. Thank you so much for asking to see me. I've been looking forward to this meeting and I'm sure you have many far more important things you could be doing, so thank you." I realise that I'm gabbling nervously and stop speaking.

She smiles a little at my nervousness. "It's just Parminder." she says, trying to relax me. "Although I actually prefer Mindi, which is what my friends always call me. 'Miss Nagra' always reminds me of being told off by teachers at school. And, thank you for coming out here; I'm hoping that today's going to be the first of a lot of productive meetings."

"Thank you." I reply, blushing at my awkwardness.

"Can I tempt you with a Mojito?" she asks, indicating the jug on the table.

"I'd love one. Thanks."

As she pours the drink, I admire her appearance. Like the room, she is dressed entirely, elegantly, in white. She wears a simple above-the-knee cotton dress: almost completely plain with just the thinnest of straps over the shoulders and the occasional flower-shaped cluster of tiny white beads near the scalloped embroidered hem and neck line. Her feet are bare. The paleness of her dress accentuates her dark Indian complexion and her black shoulder-length hair frames her face in bouncy, loose curls. Around her neck hangs a silver necklace with a single teardrop shaped piece of polished turquoise. It sits perfectly in her cleavage drawing my eyes there like a stage hypnotist's charm.

A turquoise bracelet and dots of turquoise at her ears complete her jewellery as she wears no rings and no watch. I notice that her fingernails and toenails are painted turquoise to match her jewellery. I wish I could dress so beautifully. Despite the effort I put in when getting ready this morning, I feel dowdy and plain in my just-above-the-knee bottle-green dress and matching shoes. My favourite gold necklace and multi-coloured bangle collection feel suddenly uncool and tacky. Even my long blonde hair which is usually one of my best features has let me down today -- the heat on the cab ride here has left it looking flat and lifeless. It is only April, but it is is incredibly hot.

She places the glass on the table and pushes it across, then starts to pour one for herself. "I love these so much. It's fabulous on a burning hot day like this to sit on the terrace and sip a few before jumping into the pool to cool-off."

She takes a sip of her drink and settles on the sofa. She notices my interest in the artwork. "They're big and they're colourful aren't they!" she says. "They were done when I bought the house to bring a bit of colour into it. These two are called 'Passion' and 'Desire'. There's another two upstairs that are called 'Love' and 'Lust'. If you look at them the right way you can see figures in the shapes."

Looking at the blue canvas, she tilts her head to the left, and gives an enigmatic smile. She turns back towards me and smiles. "I just call them 'Four fucks!'"

I cough loudly into my drink in surprise as she announces her name for the paintings completely matter-of-factly. She looks at me with concern in her eyes, thinking I am going to choke, and grips my arm. I regain my breath and gesticulate that I'm alright. Mindi pauses until she is sure.

"The painting process is unusual. Have you heard of Yves Klein's 'Anthropometry' series? It's inspired by that technique." Mindi says, cautiously watching me for signs of more choking. I shake my head, I haven't heard of Klein or his paintings. Mental note to be more cultured.

"It's quite primitive and very hands-on. Incredibly messy! The studio ends up with paint all over the place." Again she smiles enigmatically. What is the secret?

Mindi puts down her Mojito and demonstrates with big sweeping arm movements. I get a glimpse of side boob as her arms swing above her head and an eye-full of cleavage as her breasts bounce in time to her movements.

"I think there was as much paint on the walls and floors as on the canvas when things were finished." She laughs. "Quite a few people have asked me if i want to sell them, but I'm keeping them here. I'm actually thinking I need another one for the upstairs landing. I've chosen the name: 'Adoration', but haven't got to the making it stage yet. The 'fucking continues', you could say."

I notice that the demonstration has left a slight but noticeable nipple bump pushing against the cotton of her dress when she lowers her hand. I mutely nod agreement, trying not to stare at the swelling.

She leans into the arm of the sofa and stretches her legs out to rest her heels on the table. I get another, better, view of her cleavage as the swinging turquoise pendant pulls at my gaze again. This is going to be a very distracting afternoon. I watch as she arranges the folds of her skirt and notice how lovely her legs are. Pulling my mind away from this pleasurable sight, I focus on what Mindi is saying.

"--Now, when I heard that you were joining the writing team, I was ecstatic. Having an English writer will really help. Alex Kingston and I have been pestering the producers about it for ages. Some of the writers we've had really struggled with British idiom and some draft scripts I've been given in the past made me sound either like Celia Johnson in Brief Encounter or like some relation of Eliza Doolittle. Alex and I couldn't believe some of the 'Mary Poppins-ish' dialogue that one guy used to write for us. They've got better, but some of them do find it difficult. You being on the team will save us from having to suggest rewrites so much as well."

I laugh, now able to speak again. "Well I can promise you no more Celia, Eliza or Mary. And I'm looking forward to writing stuff for Neela."

"Putting words into my mouth." she says. "I know they're working on the major story arcs for next season at the moment and I'm hoping for a good, strong plot line this season. I want something dramatic and challenging. We could show Neela having some sort of breakdown after killing a patient that she's got to know too well -- maybe an accident or maybe an assisted suicide. And I think it's about time she had a major new relationship to deal with."

"I like the idea of a friend's death throwing her out of kilter." I say. "Unless there are plans that I'm not aware of to write one of the existing characters out, we'd have to work someone new in from the beginning of the series. Romance-wise, we still have unresolved issues over Neela's relationships with Ray Barnett and Simon Brenner to work out--"

Mindi interrupts me with a wave of her glass. "Yeah, but everyone already assumes that Neela's going to end up with Ray, so that's 'built-in' and almost a non-story. I have been thinking of something more dramatic for that storyline. A relationship with another member of the staff; passionate and illicit. Neela is conflicted over it at first, but she can't stay away from it. You know -- 'Inner Turmoil'!"

"Well, I'm not sure what the plans are for the other characters. If it's not Ray or Simon, then there's Archie Morris, or Dubenko." I say, not convinced that there is much scope with these characters for the sort of story line that Mindi is hoping for.

"Morris! I think Neela would rather die than date him. Dubenko's just not right for her either, though he'd be in Neela's knickers in an instant if she gave him only half an indication that she was interested..."

Damn! Now I'm thinking of the contents of Neela's/Mindi's knickers and what I'd like to do down there. Mental slap!

"...No. I've considered this for a while and I know who it should be -- someone no one will expect."

She pauses. I don't know if this is for dramatic effect or because she's nervous to make her suggestion. She fidgets with the pendant and my eyes follow her fingers to the chunk of blue-green stone and then wander down to the cleft between her tits again. This is getting awkward. Stop eyeing-up this woman. Be professional! I silently admonish myself.

I can't tell if Mindi has noticed where my eyes keep taking themselves, but her fingers set the pendant free and she looks me directly in the eyes. She takes her feet off the table and curls her legs up on the sofa. She starts to refill my glass from the jug. I hadn't noticed that I'd emptied it.

"It should be Sam." Mindi says.

"Sam who?" I ask; trying to think which of the male doctors or staff members has this first name.

"Sam Taggart! Samantha!" Mindi says eagerly, almost bouncing on the sofa.. "Sam's always sparking tension and she's carrying a lot of secrets about how her husband died. Both she and Neela have got a lot of baggage about men."

I like this idea and the freshly minted mental image of Neela in a lip-lock with the cute nurse Taggart. File that away for later. I try to contain my libidinous thought before it goes any further. I take a slow swig of my cocktail whilst I think of my response for a moment.

"Okay. A tense situation, perhaps something involving physical danger or jeopardy, leads unexpectedly to an instant of something physical."

Mindi nods along as I develop my suggestion. She likes my idea.

"Nothing happens straight away, but, during a couple of the following episodes we see both of them thinking about it in quiet moments. Each of them then decides they need to talk about it with the other and they go to the bar, get drunk, kiss and wake-up in bed the following morning."

Mindi starts playing with the pendant again. Stop it! I want to shout. Don't you know how very distracting it is seeing your fingers messing around in there? Instead, I continue with my narrative.

"Then we see them trying to decide what this means. Are they going to do it again? Is it going to become a relationship? Are they a couple now? Are they going to come-out to the department?"

I can see a snag.

"But, doesn't this re-cover old territory -- we've already had something similar with the development of Kerry Weaver's lesbian relationship."

"Yeah, but that was ages ago and Weaver's not really been in the story much for a couple of series. And, we didn't really see anything physical then. It'll be a bit more controversial in some circles, but I want to take it a bit further and show the nature of the relationship more explicitly. We--I mean Neela and Sam, should be shown actually in bed, or snogging up on the roof. I don't think we should give them the 'we were drunk' excuse though. They go to bed the first time because they decide they want to. And they keep wanting to -- a lot and often."

More mental images to file in the box in my head labelled 'quality smut'. Trying to keep these thoughts under control I continue. "Okay. This sounds great. I think that this will get a very positive response if I pitch it at the next story conference. But there's someone else we need to consider as well. What about Linda? Will she be okay with it?"

"Don't worry about Linda. If you can come up with some plot suggestions, I think she'll be interested." Mindi says. "I've had a feeling for a while that she fancies me, so I think she'd jump at the idea. Given the opportunity, I think she'd jump me for real as well, the first chance she could. I don't think I'd complain if she did."

She pauses to take a swig of her drink. She drains the glass again and looks at me in a significant manner. "Linda's hot! Did you see her in the red PVC catsuit they gave her for a couple of scenes when she played Velma in that Scooby-Doo film? Forget Sarah Michelle Gellar, Linda's the real Scooby snack in that movie! Just wish the suit had been a little tighter!"

I have seen the film and did think that Linda Cardellini looked very sexy in that catsuit. Damn, that's another mental image that is going to be stuck in my head. Mindi smiles broadly. She reaches for the jug and refills her glass and tops-up mine again. Clearly, she's been thinking about this. My mind is boggling over the possibilities of the storyline and Mindi's revelation that she'd welcome a real life encounter with one of her fellow cast members. I'm thinking of Samantha and Neela exploring their feelings for one another. I'm thinking of Linda and Mindi exploring each other's bodies - Lindi/Mindi. I must have a surprised look on my face as Mindi asks: "Have I shocked you?"

I am suddenly dry-mouthed and I shake my head mutely before finding my voice again. "No!" Trying to be cool, but barely succeeding; "I think Linda's very attractive too, and it's very easy to see why she might fancy you -- you're very beautiful."

Mindi looks at me appraisingly for a long moment. "Why thank you ma'am!" she eventually says in an exaggerated mock southern belle accent. She tilts her head to the side coquettishly. She flutters her long eyelashes at me.

"If you're right and she'd be up for it," I continue, "this would be a major storyline which we could run right through the series."

I realise that I have not written anything down and pick up my pen and pad to make some notes. Mindi notices my confusion.

"Don't worry about notes. I'm sure you'll have plenty of time later to get all of this down. It's such a lovely day, I think we should go outside and enjoy our drinks in the garden. We can run through some ideas out there."

She uncurls herself from the sofa and stands. With one hand she takes hold of both of our glasses by the rims and with the other she picks up the jug. She puts all of the items back on the tray then straightens and turns. Tray in hands, she heads past the kitchen and out to the terrace, her bare feet making patting sounds on the stone floor. I gather my things and follow.

I step from the air-conditioned coolness of the house into the blazing heat of LA's afternoon sun. I turn to my left and see Mindi standing at the edge of the paved terrace looking down a flight of steps to the lower level of the garden. She's left the jug and glasses on a glass-topped table behind her and is standing with her right hand raised to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun directly in front of her.

I stop mid-step, halted by the view in front of me. Not the view of the multi-million-dollar homes on the hills in the distance or the view of Mindi's beautiful garden and pool below; no, the view that has my attention is Mindi herself. In the bright sunshine with the sun to the front of her, her loosely fitting cotton dress has become wonderfully translucent.

Without any hindrance from obscuring fabric, my eyes drink-up the lovely, dark-skinned silhouette of her body; nearly naked as her lacy underwear is quite minimal. I stare at her perfect bottom and the side swell of her right breast visible under her raised arm. I notice her lovely waist. The moment lasts no more than a couple of seconds before she drops her hand to her side and turns to face me. Now my eyes feast on the front view. Her tits are not large but they are shapely and barely contained by her bra, her firm belly and muscular legs indicate that Mindi exercises hard: the muscles on the inside of her thighs are taut and firm but not over-defined. Through the dress and the flimsy underwear, I can see the cleft of her pussy within her panties. Or am I imaging that.

I want to be there. I want to lift the dress over her head, I want to unhook her bra and uncover her breasts, I want to slide her panties down from her tight bottom and see her naked. And then I want to take her in my arms and make passionate love to her.

"Let's go down and sit by the pool. That looks like a perfect place to plot a seduction." Mindi says.

Jolted from my fantasy, I nod. I'm not sure if she is talking about the seduction of Sam Taggart by Neela Ragostra or the seduction of Linda Cardellini by Parminder Nagra. Either way, I'm very keen to see how this all works out.

* * *

THE POOL, 2:45 PM

Mindi's pool is positioned in a secluded spot at the rear of her house. A high wall, rendered and painted white, flanks the pool area on each side with just the steps leading back up to the house breaking the sheltering screen. The pool is rectangular and about 10 metres long by 5 metres wide and is edged by a wide stone-paved walk on each side. On the short side of the pool furthest from the house stands a pool house with a vine covered pergola along its front for shade. The walls each side of the pool house door are mirrored within a lattice-work frame so that the space seems to continue beyond. Pieces of expensive-looking pool furniture are positioned at intervals around the pool's perimeter. Six large palms in enormous square terracotta urns provide colour.

Mindi and I are sitting side-by-side on a large garden sofa, in the shade of the pergola. Our legs are stretched-out with our feet resting on a large padded bench seat. Between our feet on the bench seat sits a tray with an empty jug and two empty glasses. We're each rather drunk.

For the past hour, as the jug has been progressively emptied, we have been kicking around increasing silly ideas for the scene that will introduce a love affair between the ER characters of Neela Ragostra and Samantha Taggart. As time has passed, there has been more giggling and less writing.

"Okay." Mindi says, slightly slurred, "That's the second jug of Mojitos we've finished. I think I must've made them quite strong, 'cause I'm feeling a bit sloshed. I don't think we're going to be coming up with any more sensible ideas. What've we got now?"

I pick up my notepad and focus on the words that I have written down.

"Okay, I've got three good ones. Scenario one develops the idea I outlined back in the house. Neela sees Sam being groped and molested by a patient. She helps Sam get the patient off of her and quickly sedates him. Sam is crying and trembling, remembering a similar attack by her former husband. Neela comforts her and gives her a hug. After a minute, Neela moves to let Sam go and pull away, but Sam hangs on to her. 'Wait a momen't, she says. She holds onto Neela's elbows and they stand looking at one another silently. Then Sam pulls Neela back towards her and holds her tightly with the side of her head resting against Neela's. After another minute Sam's hands slides down to the small of Neela's back and she brings her face directly in front of Neela's They look at one another, noses touching, then Sam tilts her head to one side and closes the gap to kiss Neela tentatively. Neela responds gently at first, then a bit more firmly. After a few seconds, Sam lets Neela go and heads off quickly to get security. Neela's left feeling confused and a bit unsure about what's just happened. That would be the end of episode cliff-hanger.