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Author's Note: Apologies for the long story. I am still a newbie here. And it took a little while to get the build up to where the characters can actually have sex. Feedback is welcome.
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Damn!
I cursed loudly as I walked out of the elevator and saw the long line at the Starbucks in the lobby of my hotel.
My morning prep meeting had been advanced a half-hour and I had to be there in, like, 15 minutes. Waiting in line would be futile if I had to make the meeting, I had skipped breakfast and now perhaps will have to miss my customary Starbucks coffee as well. Stepping outside was out of the question as a light rain was falling as was predicted, but it was enough to keep people indoors. That explained the line in here. People are a patient lot, I thought to myself. Not me.
As I was weighing my options and absentmindedly looking at the people waiting, I did a quick double take. A woman standing fourth or fifth in line from the cashier kind of looked familiar. Her dark skin, her beautiful, long, thick, shiny black hair, short stature and her off-white pant suit made her stand out from the rest of the white folks in their regulation gray and black suits. I took another look. Could it be? I took a few steps towards her and, yes, she was who I thought she was!
I knew I had her number buried in my contacts somewhere. Man, it had been a while, and as I scrolled through my phone frantically trying to locate her name and number, thoughts flashed through my head. Damnit! What was her name? When did I last call or text her! I recall having it down as someone or the other's 'Mom'. When was the last time we met? It was definitely close to two years ago.
No, wait! Didn't we run into each other about six months ago in our home town? There was a something about that incident. I couldn't remember now exactly what it was. But yes. I was at the foodcourt at the mall, my family was shopping and I was streaming a FIFA World Cup match on my phone. I heard a familiar voice, "Hi! Puja's dad!" I turned and instantly recognized her and said, "Hey, Anjali's mom!"
That was it! I soon located her number in my Contacts list. Now to text her and ask her to get my coffee for me.
I texted:
"Hi Anjali's mom. This is Puja's dad. Line's too long. Could u get a coffee for me pls?"
I hit 'Send' and looked at her, waiting for a reaction. She had her phone in her hand, and it must had dinged or vibrated. She looked at it, and swiped to read the message. It took a few seconds for the message to sink it. Or she must have re-read the message. She looked up and around, here and there, and finally spotted me waving my hand. It took her another couple of seconds to place me, and then the recognition spread across her face. She waved, pointed to the coffee counter and tilted her head as if asking what I wanted.
I texted:
"Tall, dark roast, black. No milk. Apple Cinnamon scone. Heated. Pls. Ty"
She looked down at her phone, read my message and texted her reply.
"Of course. Do you want fries with that? LOL ;-)"
And she smiled as I read her reply and looked up at her.
I had a few minutes to reflect on our so-called friendship as I waited for her. Our daughters had gone to the same Y to learn swimming, and for dance lessons at the same dance school and so we had the chance to meet at least twice a week, if not more. She was comely and her demeanor was always calm and outgoing, and that was what encouraged me to strike up conversations with her. Unlike other parents, she was not one to bury her nose in a phone or tablet and ignore others and while away the time waiting for their kids. She was always eager to talk, and also listen. She was a bit timid and shy during our first couple of meetings. But became more and more comfortable as we started meeting frequently at the different locations. We became more relaxed when we found we had some common interests - Bollywood movies and music and singing. We exchanged tracks and videos of songs over WhatsApp, and sometimes even funny links, and helped each other out occasionally when we had scheduling conflicts in picking up and dropping off kids. But these meetings stopped as kids grew older. So did the messaging. Fortunately I still had her number on my phone.
She walked over with a cup of coffee in each hand to where I was standing.
"Here you go!" she said, smiling, and showing a row of magnificently white and perfect teeth. She had stunning bright red lipstick on her thin (but not too thin) lips. My heart skipped a beat.
"Thanks a lot for the coffee, and stuff" I started.
"Not at all. Fancy meeting you here. A long way from home for both of us. It's been a while, no?" she replied.
"Yeah. Maybe, what? Two years?" I waited for her rebuttal. And was pleasantly surprised and pleased when she remembered out last meeting, like I had.
"No, not that long. I think it was less than a year, surely. We met at the mall, remember? More like six months ago," she said, obviously thinking of me, or us, during her wait.
Wow! She remembers, I thought to myself. Did she remember ALL of it? It was like five minutes that we chatted, and she remembers THAT?
I made some small talk, "So, shopping alone?"
"Yes! At last been able to get away from kids and Aakash. I have this afternoon to myself. How about you?"
I said, "No such luck for me. Driving the family around."
She was smiling at my answer. She tried to look relaxed, but she was nervously swinging her shopping bag in her hand and it was kind of distracting. It made me reflexively take a quick look at what the bag was, and the pervert that I am, I noticed it was a Victoria's Secret bag. Instantly images of all kinds of panties - full back, thongs, lacy, G-String, boy shorts, and different bras raced through my head, interlaced of course with images of her wearing them. Fuck! I quickly looked away, and then up at her. I noticed that she noticed me looking at the bag. Was she able to read my mind and thoughts? She instantly stopped swinging her bag, and quickly asked, "So, what are you watching? Oh! Soccer. What's with men these days? Soccer, Soccer all the time!"
"Well, the World Cup comes once in four years you know. Hey, want to sit down, have a bite to eat?"
"No," she said. "Have more shopping to do. Shoes, this time," she smiled brightly at me. "Bye now!" She turned and walked away.
I stared at her back (and her beautiful ass) as she twisted her way between the tables and vanished from view. But not before I had enough time to:
1) Have the images of her fantastic, full, tight, jeans covered ass, her thick thighs and shapely calves etched in my memory. (I embellished these images with a hint of a panty line under there when I happily recalled this meeting.)
2) Notice that her bra was black and that it was firmly against her back, making a deep impression in the cotton T-shirt she was wearing, and clearly outlining the shape of her breast from the side.
And not before she turned back one last time, and smiled brilliantly again when she saw me looking at her.
No guesses on who or what I was fantasizing about that night. While having sex with my wife. Or was it while jerking off in the bathroom?
"You have changed," she said, shaking me from my reverie.
"What now?" I said, coming back to the present.
"Sorry. You look different. You hair. Have you lost weight. Looks like you have," she said, still looking right at me and making eye contact.
"Oh yeah," I said. "Well, my hair doesn't grow anymore, so I have a buzz cut now. Easy to maintain, and cheap as well." She giggled softly at this. I continued, "And I am on the Keto diet. All Protein, low carbs. And working out and Yoga as well. So it feels good. I feel good. A lot of people have noticed the change."
"Yes, it shows, actually. You look real good."
I am a pervert, remember? She
was
good looking. Not too plump, not too thin either. She had a short sleeve blouse on, showing a generous amount tight well defined upper arms and forearms. Her shoulders were rounded. Her breasts were small but pushing against the front of her blouse. The top button was unfastened. She had her bag slung over her shoulder and its weight pulled one side of her blouse down. I could see a pink bra peeking between the buttons. The sunlight streaming from the large windows that made up one side of the lobby wall turned her top transparent and her body and skin and the pink of her bra showed through the fabric. I could smell her perfume even with two cups of coffee near us. It was intoxicating.
I should confess here. Yes, I
had
fantasized about her back in the days we were acquainted. And also for a while even after we lost touch, I recalled. Yes, I made up fantasies about almost all the ladies (and some girls, as well) I met. At the Y, at dance school, wives of friends, whoever, wherever. Oh yes, I used to think about her a lot, no doubt about that. I looked forward to dropping my kids off at dance and the Y, excited at the thought of getting a chance to meet her, and probably other young moms, and chatting them up. Those were good memories. She definitely had a starring role in many of my jerk-off sessions. But as time passed by, she was replaced by other women and girls in my sexual fantasies. But It was sacrilege to even think about initiating an affair or sex with such family acquaintances. But one could dream. And one could masturbate..
Things were coming back to me in a rush. I recall helping Anjali's mom (still couldn't come up with her name!) with a fence at their house that had fallen during a severe storm. Her husband, Aakash, had given up after a while as he pulled some muscle in his back. She and I were working close to each other, sometimes even brushing against each other, purely accidentally, as we followed Aakash's directions around the yard. I managed numerous looks down her T-shirt, at the tops of her soft breasts and at her cleavage. And at at her panty that was visible above the waistline of her Capris as she sat down. At the wedgie made by her panty on her ass cheeks as she stood. At her flat belly exposed as she raised her hands to wipe the sweat off of her brow. Once, she tripped on a flower pot and almost fell if not for me. I put my arm out and stopped her fall. My forearm cushioned her soft breasts, my other hand held her arm as she leaned against me. She reached out, put her hands on my chest and forearm to stop herself from falling. It was just a for a couple of seconds, and I pushed her upright and she righted herself. She quickly looked up at me and said, "Thanks," and then looked to see if Aakash saw what just happened. But he was inside getting an iced tea or some such. Man! I held those images in my mind for a very long time as I remember. Those were good times. But outwardly, there was nothing close to explicitly sexual or physical in our interactions.
"So do you," I said unexpectedly, brushing my thoughts away with great difficulty. She had put on a little weight, and it showed on her face a bit. But she still looked strikingly pretty.
She laughed softly. "Well, thanks. I watch what I eat, and you know, try and work out at home." She appeared slightly embarrassed at the attention I was paying her, particularly about her body and looks.
What was she, early or mid thirties? I had married late and so the kids came late. My wife and I were usually the oldest parents at the soccer field, swimming meet, dance competitions and what have you. I had at least fifteen years on her.
She suddenly changed the subject, "Are you in one of these conferences? These are sooo boring. I have a couple of days more."
"Oh yeah!" I said. "Green Conference on Building Energy and Environment!"
"Bearing Specialists Conference' for me," she said, laughing. "You know what? Let's grab lunch. I hardly know anybody here. It'll be a change talking to someone you know."
