[Sorry for the long wait everyone. I hope you enjoy the latest installment!]
*
"Hey!"
I turned my head quickly in the direction of the high-pitched female voice and recognised Amy, one of Emma's friends she'd gone to high school with. She was standing at the entrance to a women's clothing store. I stopped and approached her.
"Hi Amy," I replied, smiling broadly. "How's things?"
It was late Saturday afternoon, and I had been picking up my dry cleaning at a shopping centre near my flat when I heard Amy call out. She was wearing an extremely short, tight-fitting stripy blue dress which clung to her thin frame, accentuating her subtle curves. Her flaming red hair was bunched at the back of her head with a few loose strands falling along the sides of her cute, freckled oval face. She held several pairs of jeans over her arm. I had not seen her since the orgy with Emma and her other friends at Carmen's place, but we had sent a few texts back and forth.
"Yeah, good," she said, and we stared at each other for a few moments.
I cleared my throat and my eyes looked down past the modest swells of her breasts to the jeans in her arm.
"Oh, sorry. I work here, that's why..." she gestured at the jeans. "Not shopping. I'm definitely not a size 12," she blushed and laughed nervously.
"Of course. Sorry, I don't want to keep you--" I began.
"--no! It's ok. I mean, I'm almost done my shift. Um... did you want to maybe, um, get a coffee or something...? Unless you have plans..." she stammered.
I noticed behind her that several of her colleagues were staring at us and speaking urgently to each other, leaning close as if they didn't want to be heard. Some of them were smiling.
"Sure! I was just here picking up my dry cleaning, and I've got nothing on this afternoon. I'd be happy to."
She beamed, nearly dropping the stack of jeans she was carrying. "Great! Um, ok, cool..." she trailed off nervously.
"I'll just throw these in the car and meet you back here in a few minutes, yeah?" I suggested.
"Yeah, perfect! Ok, see you soon!" she bubbled, still blushing.
Amy turned and went back into the shop, then was quickly mobbed by her co-workers as they shot glances at me. I chuckled and left to drop my dry cleaning off in my car.
When I returned, Amy was waiting for me just inside the entrance to the store she worked in. She waved to her co-workers and they waved back, one of them putting her tongue in her cheek and moving her fist near her mouth in a mock blowjob gesture. I laughed and Amy shot her an angry and embarrassed glance as she made a quick escape.
"Sorry, she's really rude," she said, looking abashed.
"No worries, I thought it was funny."
We left the shopping centre and I drove to a nearby cafe where we sat to enjoy a coffee on the patio. We talked about work, things we'd been up to, plans for the summer, and general small talk. Amy was much more confident and at ease alone than she was with her friends. She sat back in her chair, showing off her long, lean legs as her dress rode up her thighs. She occasionally touched her pale, freckled chest just above the swells of her breasts with her fingertips, and her light green eyes sparkled, highlighted by the dark but tasteful mascara she wore. I saw in her a maturity surpassing that of her friends, but a simultaneous naivete occasionally revealed itself. She was intelligent and curious, but not worldly or cavalier. I sensed a thirst for things unknown, a longing for intimacy, a passion bridled, waiting for the catalyst that would free it. The afternoon passed pleasantly, and I was surprised by how quickly the sun had dipped in the sky.
"Wow, I'd completely lost track of time," I commented, looking at my watch.
"Oh god, I've got to get home. My mum's probably wondering what happened to me," said Amy.
"Come on, I'll drive you."
We continued to converse on the way to Amy's house, and I found myself wishing we were headed back to my flat. As we pulled into her driveway, she said,
"Why don't you come in? Stay for dinner?"
"Oh, I couldn't. I wouldn't want to impose," I said, wondering what Amy's mother's reaction would be.
"Come on, please? I'm sure my mum wouldn't mind."
"I'm not so sure about that," I said vaguely.
There was a tap on the window on Amy's side.
"Here she is now! I'll ask her," Amy said, and opened the door, hopping out of the car.
I exited the car and looked across the roof at Amy's mother Michelle. She looked ravishing in a white flowing cotton dress, her long red hair down. Amy introduced us, unaware that we were already well and truly acquainted.
"He works with Miss Beaumont--you know, the woman Emma's staying with."
"Pleased to meet you Mrs. Ryan," I said, nodding.
She gave me an ambiguous smile and looked back at her daughter.
"I just ran into him in the shopping centre after work and he offered to drive me home. I thought maybe he could stay for dinner," continued Amy.
Michelle looked back at me. "Of course. You're more than welcome to join us. Please, come in."
I found it difficult to read her intentions. Was she angry? Pleased? Should I decline the invitation?
"Yaay! Come on!" squealed Amy, waving me towards the house.
I walked around the car and past Michelle, who held my gaze firmly, still giving nothing away. I smiled awkwardly and followed her daughter into their home.
As we entered, Amy turned to me and touched my arm.
"I'm just going to have a quick shower, if that's ok. You can hang out in my room while you wait."
"No, I don't think so, honey. You're free to watch television in the lounge, or you can give me a hand in the kitchen," returned Michelle, closing the door behind us and crossing her arms.
"Muuum!" whinged Amy, turning red with embarrassment.
"That's fine, Mrs. Ryan, I'm happy to help. I make an excellent sous-chef," I said, laughing.
A genuine smile touched Michelle's lips, and she darted a glance at her daughter, establishing her authority.
"Ugh, fine! I won't be long, I promise."
Amy turned and skipped up the stairs, leaving me and her mother standing in the entrance-way. A few moments of silence passed as we heard doors opening and closing upstairs. Finally, I spoke.
