Ipse Dixit: The Past Before
"Yes....yes" were the words that ran through her head; that gripped her and brought her back to reality. Dalia's clutching fingers released the fabric of his shirt, her palms flattened against his chest and she pushed herself away from his lips. Her eyes opened wide, with a conflicted look of desperation and disappointment she looked into his eyes then down.
"I....I...can't." She whispered.
Dalia stepped back, out of his embrace and looked at him directly.
"I can't." She repeated hoping she sounded confident, even defiant but the doubt and insecurity betrayed her tone.
His only response was to smile somewhat sadly and nod his head while she nervously adjusted her glasses. Dalia attempted to pull it together, trying to ignore the guilt and desire that was gnawing at her. Her fingers fidgeted with the wire frame of her glasses. When she realized he was looking at the ring on her finger, what small amount of confidence she had briefly gained slid from her and quickly she dropped her hand to her side trying to hide the gold band.
"I have to......I have to go." She lied meekly avoiding his gaze.
Again he nodded before stepping to the side, Dalia gave him a weak smile before stepping towards the door that opened to the top level of the public garage. Her fingers gripped the cold handle.
"Maybe I'll see you on the train?" He said softly.
The only indication she gave that she heard his words was the slight pause she took before turning the handle and stepping out of the stairway.
She walked to her car, got in and stared at the door to the stairway. She wanted it to open and for him to follow but she hoped it wouldn't. After staring at the closed door for two minutes Dalia leaned forward and rested her head on the steering wheel overwhelmed by disappointment and relief.
"How did this happen?" She thought to herself as she sat up and gazed blankly into the dashboard. "This" had started before today. "This" had started before she saw him at "Meier's Delicatessen" last week. Dalia first noticed him a few weeks earlier on the commuter train. He got on at a station before hers; that first day she noticed him giving up his seat to a pregnant woman. Her first thought was that he was a gentleman, the second was that he was rather easy on the eyes.
As the week continued and then became the next, she noticed he took the same inbound train as her three days a week. Always he dressed in a tie and fitted button down shirt that gave a hint of his muscled form. He was handsome but not pretty, attractive but not gorgeous. Clean shaven, short dark hair parted to the side and a tanned complexion. He was tall, definitely fit and there was something else about him that Dalia couldn't quite figure out that intrigued her. A leather Coach bag was always slung over his shoulder, giving a him a definite academic but yet bohemian look. By the second week she had begun looking forward to seeing him on the train, seeing what he was wearing, enjoying the rush she felt when she saw him. This wasn't the first time she had noticed someone on the train, but this stranger was different.
Then last weekend everything changed. It was a typical fall Saturday; her husband off golfing and her daughters, both in high school, sleeping late before doing their own thing. Three or four days a week Dalia took an aerobics class at a club a couple of towns over from where she lived. Afterwards she decided to get a tea at a little delicatessen/cafe, Meier's, around the corner from the gym before running some errands. She was waiting for her order, just looking around the café when she noticed the stranger from the train sitting by himself at a table looking through a pile of papers next to the Coach bag. Dalia was surprised to see him and a bit startled by the effect he had on her. "Thirteen" called the clerk, jolting Dalia back to reality. She grabbed her tea and headed to the island adding milk and sugar before giving it a stir, placed the cover on it and glanced over at his table.
Dalia groaned silently to herself and let her forehead hit the steering again as she replayed scene in her head. Something had possessed her at that moment; maybe loneliness, or longing, a bit of lust or all three. There were no empty tables and he was sitting alone; so, Dalia made a snap judgement to sit down with him. She took a deep breath and as if in a trance she walked over to the counter and picked up a copy of the "Globe" lying there for the patrons, then walked over to his table.
"Excuse me there are no empty tables, would you mind if I joined you?" Dalia was surprised how controlled she sounded despite her racing heart. He looked up and smiled before sliding the pile of papers over and rising.
"Of course not have a seat." He offered generously.
Hiding her anxiety Dalia put down the tea and paper and sat as he returned to his task.
Dalia picked up the paper, pretending to read. "My God he is young and attractive." She thought to herself. Stealing an unseen glance she watched him for a moment. "He must be a teacher; no teacher I ever had looked like him." She thought wistfully. After a moment something obscure caught her attention, a scent she hadn't smelled years; Chanel Egoiste. Her heart skipped a beat as the odor penetrated her memory reminding her of a seduction long ago.
She took a sip of her tea and tried to steady herself as she glanced at him again. Afraid that this was her only chance to speak with him, she asked the only question she could think of.
"Are you a teacher?"
It took moment for him to look up, during that incredibly long period of time Dalia second guessed herself convinced she had irritated him.
"Kind of....I'm an Assistant Professor at Galbraith College in the Fens." He answered with a warm smile.
"Really? What do you teach?" She replied hoping that her voice did not betray the giddiness filling her.
"Mathematics.......I'm Stephen by the way." He announced extending his hand.
Dalia took his hand and gently gripped it, his touch causing her to almost lose her breath for just a second before she replied; "I'm Dalia." He continued to lightly grasp her hand while looking into her eyes then after a couple of seconds he released his grip.
"I've seen you before, the commuter train?"
This filled Dalia with dread but also excited her, he had actually paid attention to her. Dalia smiled, then feigned an expression of "sudden" recognition.
"Yes the 7:05" She said hoping that she sounded convincing.
"Well it's the 6:50 for me." Stephen replied.
Within seconds they fell into a conversation. Talking about colleges, jobs and themselves. She felt so comfortable with him she didn't even feel guilty when she mentioned her husband and daughters. She found out he was just 28, fifteen years younger than her and that he and his girlfriend were "on again/off again" but mainly off. After an hour Dalia realized how late it was and knew that she had to get going. As she got up he rose to and told her he would look for her on the train.
On Tuesday she did see him but it was raining and the train was even more crowded than usual. He saw her too and waved, she smiled back and waved before heading to the next car as a wave of guilt swept over her. Then on Thursday as she got on the seat next to him was empty, without thinking about it she sat next to him. He smiled broadly as she sat. Soon they were lost in conversation and all too soon the train arrived at his stop. As he rose to leave he told her that he was at "Meier's" every Saturday morning.
After Stephen left her that morning she was overwhelmed with guilt. She couldn't believe what thoughts were going through her head. Thoughts, schemes, fantasies started to overwhelm her. As she headed into the office she made the decision not to see him.
"uggggghhh" she groaned aloud in the car, still able to taste his lips on hers. She wouldn't have seen him either, she wouldn't have come to the delicatessen today if Scott, her husband, hadn't been such an ass.
She and Scott had been planning a weekend away, just the two of them, up in Vermont. It wasn't for another two weeks but they had the reservations and the girls were going to stay with her sister. Then on Thursday when she got home, still feeling shaky from her morning commute, Scott announced that he had to do an audit in Dallas on the Tuesday before they were to go away. Normally this wasn't a big deal but the only return flight he could get was a red eye on Friday night. Rather than do that Scott had decided to stay in Dallas for the weekend, see some college friends and have a golf weekend.
Dalia was hurt and angry. He could have just taken the red eye and they could gone up Saturday instead of Friday. An argument ensued, Scott apologized but couldn't (or wouldn't) change his flight. The next day was tough, Dalia just felt numb. She knew that when Scott got together with his college friends golfing wasn't all they did; she was aware that a visit to a few strip clubs and a certain amount of "whoring" also was on the itinerary. As she thought about things, she thought about Billy and decided she would meet him at "Meier's."
"Ohhhhhhh" she groaned aloud slouching deeply into the seat of her Audi. That morning she got up and went to the early class at the gym and came home. Scott was just getting out the shower and was feeling amorous. Dalia, seized by guilt and confused by her desire succumbed to him. Seven minutes later her guilt was replaced by disgust as he pulled out of her and blew his load onto her belly. "Damn babe you were wet today, can't believe you got me off so quick." He said rising, not even considering how unsatisfied he had left her and how mistaken he was. As Scott walked to the closet, Dalia sat up her mind made up.
By the time she got out of the shower Scott had left for the golf club and her daughters were still asleep. Naked she stood in front of the mirror staring at her tone smooth legs, firm thighs that led to her Brazilian waxed pussy. She ran her hands up over her flat belly then across her equally flat breasts. She held them a moment wondering what Stephen would think of them. Scott used to love them or at least he used to not complain about their size until she hit forty then he started suggesting she get some "upgrades." "Fuck Scott, if Stephen likes them he can have them, if not fuck him too." She thought to herself.
She had on a one piece sleeveless white top that snapped at the crotch. Over that was a blue button down oxford with the sleeves rolled to her elbows and tucked into a black skirt. She wore simple black flats and no stockings, her black hair flowing over her shoulders. She knew she looked good, not blatant but good enough to get some looks at the delicatessen or the mall.
She walked into "Meier's" and spotted Stephen immediately. She got her tea and joined him.
"No aerobics?" He asked as she sat.
