I knew it was Linda when I spotted her in the mall, window-shopping outside Macy's. What had it been? Fifteen years? She was older, of course, and had put on a few pounds but didn't look too bad for a fifty-five year old woman -- just a little chunky, but still with a great ass and a half smile on her face that never seemed to make it to a full smile but also didn't frown. I was also sure she had seen me, but she turned back to the display window. Did she not recognize me? Did she not want to even speak?
"Linda?" I said.
She turned and said, "Oh, Hi." She made no move to hug, or shake hands, or even try to smile. Out affair had ended poorly after a year of hot and clandestine sex. In the middle of seeing each other, we each divorced and it seemed ordained that we would marry and live happily ever after. Once we were single, however, the magic seemed to fade and we eventually went out separate ways having destroyed our previous lives. Neither marriage was that great anyway, but the way it all ended was sad. And here we were, in the mall -- a fifty-five year old woman and a sixty-year old man with nothing in common but some long ago forgotten sex.
"What brings you to Houston?" I asked. "If I remember correctly, you moved to Oklahoma City."
"I'm here on business. We finished early today and I thought I might get in a little shopping." She had a unique voice -- deep, a little raspy, like a smoker but pleasant. It reminded me of Peggy Lee. Her voice was the sexist thing about her outside of bed.
"Oh," I said. "How long are you in town?"
"Look," she said, "we've seen each other, we spoke, and I'm going into Macy's. You go wherever you were going and let's leave it at that."
"I'm going to Macy's, too." I said. "I need some socks."
As she turned to go into the store I said, "Do you hate me that much?"
"I don't hate you. I just don't want to stir up any bad memories. Besides, I'm as fat as a pig and you look as good as you did fifteen years ago. Nothing is going to come of this meeting and it's just better if it ends now."
"Not even a cup of coffee?" I asked.
"Like I said, I've gained some weight. I don't have an interesting or exciting life or a very good marriage. And I don't want to hear about your life or your marriage."
"You look good to me," I said. "We had some hot times together. We don't need to act like enemies or even strangers."
She stared at me with that permanent half smile and said nothing. The problem with her expression was that you never knew if she was half-smiling or just staring blankly. The silence became a little uncomfortable and I felt as if people were noticing us. I decided to take a chance.
"Are you wet?" I asked.
"Are you hard?" she asked.
"I asked you first, but for your information all of my blood has moved to Richard." Richard was the pet name she had for my dick. She told me she liked to name her lovers' dicks. Mine was longer than most so Dick was too short -- she would call it Richard for long.
