I was reading.
'She shook her head. Her face was so flushed pink and sexy. I couldn't decide whether it was desire or embarrassment. I had to think it was the former to keep going.
'"Let me make love to you, my darling!" I was mad with excitement and burning with lust.
'She just looked and I thought her defenses were dropping just then.
'I tried again at the pants. And this time she helped me get herself naked.
'Naked!
'I was drunk with glee and amazement. She was incredibly beautiful as I saw her completely nude. Her skin, shape and sizes were perfect. At least for me she looked like a goddess. She lay with her arms folding shyly across her chest and her thighs crossed to hide her womanhood.
'My masculine mediators in my blood tried to rearrange those limbs to let me have a full view. I managed partially. I took in every inch. I dwelt on her breasts and her buttocks. Her back was so inviting. Her stomach was reasonably flat but striae and a slight bulge were inevitable after a couple of babies! Her delicious vagina was inviting. Her thighs and legs were sexy in a healthy athletic sort of way.
'I couldn't stop staring at her.'
Airport lounges and long-haul flights were my opportunities to bury my face in a book. I avoid unwanted attention and time just flies. This time I was reading a downloaded story on my tablet. It was doubly interesting as what I read was written by my old boyfriend and it was about me! I say 'old' instead of 'ex' as we never really broke up and we simply drifted apart separated by thousands of miles. What I was a reading was also quite steamy and I had to be conscious, may be overtly and unnecessarily so, of peering eyes around me in crowded places.
Yes, it was quite explicit and also factually accurate but Chuck had cleverly anonymized people and places that it would be impossible for anyone to know whom they were reading about. Otherwise I would have not given him the okay to publish.
I read it in parts to savour every single emotion and sentiment he felt and also understand and affirm the feelings he ascribed to me. He was accurate, mostly, except for the inescapable masculinization of eroticism that seems to sell better.
The latter parts and some that I needed to dwell and dig over again, were read in the taxi form the airport to my daughter's house. She had a small two-bedroom apartment that was obviously sufficient but I knew her boyfriend lived with her and I was rather prepared to deal with that situation. When I reached and we went through the warm and welcoming hugs that I realized that Vince was not in. My daughter sheepishly admitted that he, especially wasn't comfortable and had moved out temporarily. Though, I could have been OK with him, we also had my son coming over from Arizona that evening and their father, and my ex-husband was also coming over the next day to spend the evening with us. I know that sounds weird but the kids wanted all this.
After a quick meal I sat with my daughter, Sonali, when she apologized for not meeting me at the airport having to complete some work before she took off some days for me and then out of the blue she paid me a flattering compliment.
"Mom, you look so beautiful!" She beamed. "Really, glowing so much with mature good looks."
"Oh!" I was taken aback. "Thank you." I think I blushed.
"There must be some men running after you, no?"
"Rubbish! Not in India. Anyway, I am an old woman now." I was not telling the complete truth but I had not moved into any kind of relationship. It felt good to be appreciated by men and now my daughter said the same. It was nice being thought of as attractive in my mid forties.
With those warm and dreamy thoughts, I took a nap after the long flight. I woke up only to the sounds of my son's arrival. Anurag was here and I rushed out to meet him. Hugs and wet kisses all done he quickly had a shower and rushed back to sit with me. Sonali excused herself saying that she had to go out to do some stuff and won't be back for dinner. Ours was in the fridge and needed to be warmed up, she said. Anurag and I exchanged knowing glances.
"What the heck? She can't be without that guy for one day?" Anurag complained gesturing to the front door through which Sonali had just left.
I felt like supporting my daughter. "Young love is very intense and demanding, son." He came and stood next to me and I looked down at me "What about Evita? How's she?" That was his Hungarian girlfriend I had heard about but never met.
"Give me that shoulder massage, mamma. I need it badly. I snoozed in an odd position on the flight." He sat on floor at my feet and I worked on his neck while he leant on my knees. It felt good to look after my children. I planned to cook for him as well.
I asked him a bout his new job, the place he lived in, his colleagues and generally about life. Then I had to get back to where I was.
"So, Evita?"
"Oh yeah, she's good. We have been seeing each other for eight months now. Very nice girl. Smart as well." He browsed on his phone for some pictures. I had seen a few he had sent. She was very beautiful and wore some very tasteful clothes. They seemed very happy together in pictures taken in various cheerful places.
"Lovely." I observed while my hands kneaded his neck muscles and shoulders. "Quite sexy, really." I couldn't help noting her shapely figure and wondered whether they had been intimate. There was that motherly possessiveness in me that wanted to know.
"She is a strict Catholic, you know. Doesn't even allow me to touch her!"
Poor child, I thought. We both knew that Sonali was sexually active and Anurag must be wondering why he is being deprived. I scrolled through my list of experiences to understand his situation and apply my motherly balm on an obviously frustrated youngster.
He broke into my thoughts. "We have had lots of opportunities at parties and even at my place. The moment a point is reached she withdraws stating God and holy stuff and that it's wrong to get intimate before marriage. It's quite crazy!"
"It will happen. Don't worry! Girls are different and they switch on quite slowly." Imagine a boy's mother's assurance on the subject of sexual arousal in girls!
Then he blasted a hole in the moral wall between us. "Mom, did you and dad do it before...? Like..."
It was good that he was facing away from me and did not see my beetroot cheeks. "We had no chance. Our Indian society is quite rigid. You know. We went out just about twice and once to a movie where we held hands! That's it." That was the truth and I chuckled myself out of acute embarrassment.