Note : The author does not endorse dubious or questionable consent. Any implications of the same are only for dramatic purposes.
The steam from the shower had fogged up the mirror. Radhika stepped out of the glass cubicle and wore her bathrobe. She realised it was unnecessary, her husband and children had left the house to herself. She wiped the steam and looked at the woman in the mirror. Lines were appearing around the corners of the woman's eyes. She had met that woman everyday, and yet, she looked different with each coming day. Her long, black hair was parted in the middle, resting on her shoulders, with glistening droplets that made spots on her bathrobe. She could see her scalp in more places now. It worried her. As she picked her lotion and face cream, she thought about her hair thinning and if she would have to use wigs. She took off her bathrobe. When she applied the lotion, she ran a finger on her the stretch marks on her shoulders and around her belly. The souvenir from birthing two children. She cupped her breasts and held them up, the way they would be when she was younger. They felt heavier now, and she thought they sagged.
When she had wiped herself and patted the lotion into her skin, she put her hair up in a towel, and stepped out of the bathroom, stark naked. The large bedroom in their "palatial" house (as her mother described it) was cool, although the curtains were drawn. The sharp white light of the early morning sun illuminated the contrasting grey and white interiors of the plush room. If someone saw her, she didn't care. She got dressed in the large wardrobe. As she picked out her underwear, she thought of Neha. The lacy brassiere reminded her of her friend from college. Neha had called the week before. Her divorce was now final. She was in the city. Would Radhika meet her for lunch? Radhika had offered to host her, Amit could take the kids away and the help would have the day off so they would have privacy. Neha had agreed.
Neha had introduced Radhika to lacy brassieres and racy lingerie, among other things. They were studying for different degrees, but had been assigned the same girls' hostel. The showers and washrooms for every floor were common. Neha was in 305, Radhika in 307. They had met in the waiting room of the hostel's infirmary, when Radhika's cramps had gotten too severe and Neha was nursing a sprained ankle. Neha hadn't paid too much heed to Radhika, with her worn top and pyjamas. But Radhika hadn't been able to stop thinking about "the girl in 305" after the doctor had given her painkillers and dispatched her back to 307. She had noticed the sensual curl of Neha's lips, the messy curly hair that were held together by a thin black rubber band, and Neha's curves, visible even in the ill-fitting football jersey. She had tried to get Neha's attention, in the way shy girls do, by glancing at her, or sitting next to her in the hostel mess. She had tried to stand behind her in various lines - the mess, the accounts department, the library - but Neha was always distracted, by a friend or another admirer. There was no dearth of people who were paying attention to Neha, and Radhika did little to really stand out.
That was until they were the only two people in a line once. On that day, the girls in the hostel had complained that the sambhar had too much salt. Only two of them had appreciated the sambhar and had gone back for second helpings. Neha had gone back for a third. They had bonded over their mutual love for the salty sambhar and discovered more common interests. They were both fans of Britney Spears and Madonna. They were also the last two people to have checked out the poetry collection of John Keats from the library. Radhika was in awe. Neha made heads turn every time she walked into a room. She had also never met another woman as comfortable with her body. Neha would drop into her room unnannounced, and change, unfazed with the presence of Radhika and her roommate. They began meeting and spending a lot more time together, bonding over Neha's ever changing flames, Madonna and Keats. Once when Radhika had dropped into Neha's room, she found Neha on her bed, topless. Her roommate had gone home for a few days.
"It's too hot!", she had exclaimed when Radhika entered, answering her curious expression before Radhika could ask the question.
It took all of Radhika's strength not to stare at the tight grey brassiere with a floral pattern and a white lace border. The top half of a nipple was visible. Neha had beckoned Radhika to join her in bed, and they had spent the afternoon huddled together, reading Keats. Neha had stroked Radhika's hair now and then making remarks about how thick and long they were.
"Yours aren't too bad either," Radhika told her.
"Yeah, but yours could be used for a shampoo or hair oil ad," Neha said, running her hands through the length of Radhika's hair.
"Well you can use my products, you know, I just use basic oils and this mask that my mum sends from home," Radhika offered, using the opportunity to feel Neha's neck and hair.
"Sure, we can do spa days together. We'll do one after class this Friday," Neha told her, pulling Radhika close to her.
They had spent the evening huddled together, Radhika acutely aware of Neha's perfume, and the feel of her skin on her back. The hair on Radhika's neck stood everytime they moved. Through the doors, they could hear Arctic Monkeys being played in someone's room. They only broke when it was time to head to the mess for dinner. Radhika skipped dinner that night. She was delirious with the feel of Neha's fingers in her hair, and the heady mix of perfume and the songs of thr Arctic Monkeys.
She stayed in her room instead, making excuses to her roommate who wanted to take her to dinner. She lay in bed as her roommate left, accidentally switching off the light as she went out. Radhika lay in the darkness, the white light from the windows making stripes on her clothes. She noticed it was Hozier she heard now, and not the Arctic Monkeys as before. The smell of the incense sticks her roommate lit for her evening prayers was still in the air. Her throat was dry and she observed the blades of the fan moving slowly. It was too hot, she told herself and took off her top. Then she let her fingers explore every bit of skin that Neha had touched. As if their own accord, she found her fingers in between her legs, and she felt how sticky and wet it felt. Then she had hooked a finger and let it feel the flesh on the inside, images of the grey brassiere swimming in her mind.
That Friday after class they had met in Radhika's room. Neha had worn a bathrobe for "spa day", and smuggled a bottle of wine into the hostel, to be consumed when the girls did their beauty rituals. Radhika was wearing her usual worn out shirt and pyjamas. She felt awkward and underdressed. There was a lump in her throat as she had started applying the mask on Neha's messy, greasy hair. She carefully separated the strands, running her fingers through the warm viscous mixture her mother sent and spreading it on the thick mass of hair. The cheap wine had its effect on them. Neha put on Madonna, and swayed to the music once Radhika was done with her. She then put the bottle straight to her lips, and started with Radhika's hair. As the smell of the mask filled her nostrils, Radhika bit her lips. She hoped Neha didn't notice. Neha worked quickly, applying the mask on the considerable length of Radhika's hair. When they were both done, they sat side by side, drunk on the wine. While they waited for the mask to dry, Neha put an arm around her Radhika. Then she started the questions.
"Never had sex, have you?", Neha slurred.
"No, never, I'm pure as can be," Radhika giggled, only half joking.
