This is my story of gaining informed and insightful maturity. The changes to where I am now were as a result of a great deal of chance combined with the mentoring of a few. My contribution to my own education was only to be receptive to an intelligent instruction. There was minimal cleverness or inspired moves on my part except of those that were made unconsciously through sheer masculine instinct.
I figured my learning would be instructive to others like me. It might be entertaining to a few as well.
My super short sojourn on an unusual 'business trip' had big yields. I had the hitherto unknown or even unthought of pleasure of taking on two beautiful women. Even though in a seriously inebriated state during one event, I remembered one that occurred on the morning after.
The above experience gave me an unwanted cockiness that I was imbued with the seduction skills to conquer any woman. That confidence was perhaps rooted in the fact that I had gone from a shy and hesitant youngster to a rather crafty Casanova in about two years. I had also roped in women who were older and perhaps needed more convincing reasons to have sex with me.
Those were my rather arrogant thoughts about my exploits. Then this happened.
Snaring a Star; Driving a Bitch
My good friend Craig, who had unwittingly opened the doors to my previous adventures, did it again. This time he introduced me to Alberto De Zilva, who ran a limo service and wanted a chauffeur; again, he reiterated that he would be happy with someone like me. I had a driving license, of course, but Alberto would like to try me out and if selected the money was good. The icing on the cake was that I could choose my engagements while I continued my present full-time job.
The driving test was done in one of the four limos he owned and parked in his large driveway. A few chauffer language skills were smoothened out and some rules and guidelines were shared. I met one of my future colleagues doing the same job. Alberto was even thrilled I could speak two Indian languages.
Obviously, I could only take on this job in the evenings or weekends. It was now late fall and rapidly running towards a crisp Canadian winter. The first six weeks or so, I had a sprinkling of business folks and politicians, all from out of town of course, that were quite stiff as expected. They were uniformly standoffish, often absorbed in their phones or other devices or papers and some quite rude and arrogant. I was tipped with a condescending twenty-dollar bill most often and rarely a bit more. The trips were mainly to and from hotels to conferences, offices, railway stations and airports. The human side was rather pathetic but the money was good. Christmas, with its magnificent festivities and colorful spectacles came and went. As did the snow storms and icy conditions.
I was not exactly looking forward to a pickup from the airport for a certain Indian lady CEO named Ms. Kavita Sihota in the new year. Another pompous, self-aggrandizing piece of shit is what I was thinking when I held a placard with her name at the arrival hall. Among the passengers of many shapes and colors as you would expect in Toronto, I saw a tall woman in an expensive looking olive-green winter jacket and black pants and boots crane her neck to browse the many placard holders. She settled on mine and lifted her hand with an index pointing upwards to indicate that she was who I was looking for.
I walked up to her as she wheeled her trolley of luggage and she may have had a negligible smile in her eyes, just above her black mask.
"Hello Ms. Sihota! Welcome to Toronto." I greeted her cheerfully. "I am Rishi from
Zilvaline
."
She simply nodded as I offered to push her trolley for her out of the terminal. I thought it was only polite to inquire about her flight and she muttered: "It was OK," in the most uninterested way.
She was as stiff and unfriendly as expected and I shrugged myself mentally to accept it. I also noted the many eyes of appreciation of her poise, even behind her mask, follow us as we walked. I would have been very proud to be her escort except for the
Zilvaline
name and logo embroidered on my chauffer wear shirt pocket giving me away. We crossed over to the huge multi floor parking garage with her walking stylishly behind me and stood out of my sight even in the elevator. When I reached the limo, a Cadillac Escalade and loaded her luggage I looked back by chance and she had her mask off. It struck me at once that she was extraordinarily attractive but my own pride prevented me from looking at her for more than a second as I opened the door for her.
On our drive back, I took the risk of glancing back through the driving mirror as she was conveniently seated on the right side; a few seconds each time to avoid being seen looking. She was about thirty and had impeccable features with perfect symmetry and a very light brown skin that was possibly cared for by a cosmetologist. She had dark brown streaks in her short hair with a healthy glow that cascaded around her oval face. If this was indeed a business tycoon, I concluded that a big fraction of her business came through people liking to deal with her. That was one nasty sexist thought, I chided myself.
I also decided, in all humility that she was way above my league and in any case, she was largely uncommunicative during the forty-five-minute drive. She only condescended to ask me to confirm that I was taking her to the Fairmont Royal York hotel on Front Street and with my affirmation, she clamped shut for the rest of the journey.
On arrival at the magnificent hotel porch, I stopped away from the traffic, got out and opened the door for her. I noted that she waited for me to do my duty and I briskly got a luggage cart from the foyer and loaded her stuff. In the absence of any of concierge or porters I thought I might have an outside chance of accompanying her to her suite; my admiration for her beauty and the resultant desire to see more of her was not eroded by her smugness or aloofness. That was me, I guess with my hot hormones! Of course, that was not to be as when she was checking in somehow a porter came up to me to take over the cart. I went over to Ms. Sihota to take her leave when she stepped up to me to stuff me a tip in my palm. I thanked her sheepishly, realizing that I was indirectly requesting a gratuity when I went up to her.
Meanwhile, I had a few chats with Suja, who was getting quite friendly and nice and whenever she and I had the time and her snoopy uncle was not around. I told her about my new glamorous client and I could sense that she was not very impressed! We never spoke about our drunken little intimate episode.
Within the next week or so there were four more round trips for Ms. Kavita Sihota, all in the evening, to a club, a restaurant, a hotel conference hall and a residence in the posh Bridle Path area. The commonality in all these trips was Ms. Sihota's stoic unfriendliness, though she slipped a couple of twenty-dollar bills with a terse 'Thanks' every time. Also observed on each occasion were the envious and appreciative eyes that glanced in her direction. She certainly turned the proverbial heads!
It was Alberto's assistant when she called for her next trip for shopping on Saturday that I heard something even remotely positive from Kavita Sihota. I heard that she had asked for 'that Rishi guy' to be her chauffer but admittedly there was no sign of any familiarity or warmth when I picked her up.
We drove up to the plush Bayview Village mall and dropped her at the entrance while I went to park. There was a slot just nearby and I slipped in. Then, theatrically, I saw Ms. Sihota slipping at the entrance and landing rather hard on her posterior. It was a day after a heavy snowfall and there was possibly some black ice on the walkway. I ran to help her as she stayed down apparently in shock. She held on to my hand as she got her up and turned to look at the mess her coat was in.
"Are you OK? I mean no pain anywhere?"
"No, I am OK." She replied looking around. "It's awfully embarrassing."
I helped her into the mall entrance and walked towards the closest washroom. I picked up copious amount of paper tissue to clean off the wetness and road dirt that was caked with ice and salt on her long winter coat. A woman pushing a cleaning cart offered to help while a security guy appeared to make apologetic noises. He did not miss checking her out in every lewd way possible. Thinking that we were a couple, the woman suggested that we go into the family washroom to cleanup. We glanced at each other and Kavita was the first to move in and I followed with some pads and paper offered by the good cleaning woman. It was Kavita also that shut and locked the door.
"It's best to keep people out." She explained as my poor heart was racing with imaginary possibilities.
With the help of the pads and paper and the toilet paper she wiped her coat clean. Then she took the garment off to dry it in the electric hand dryer. She had on a pair of tight black trousers and it was the first time I saw her shapely hips and butt. She was not in any way over endowed; she was just right. The breasts too were classically proportionate under a pale-yellow long-sleeved top. I also realized that she was a few shades fairer than the average Indian woman.
She was incredibly beautiful!
There was still some wetness on her right hip area and I pointed it out to her. She started and then said: "Do you mind..."
